Mike figured the thing having singed fur and whiskers only meant it was going to be all the more pissed off when it came in there and started to kill them. Not to mention he was a little afraid of using his magic dice in here again considering what had just happened. Another explosion like that might be enough to kill his friends.
He still wasn't entirely sure whether or not he’d killed Ron.
"Why couldn't you go on a diet?" he grunted as he grabbed Ron under the shoulders and pulled.
He got a heck of a surprise when Ron’s hand thrust out, but of course he didn't reach out to help Mike pull his ass along. No, he grabbed the claymore which was only going to add more weight.
"Seriously?" Mike shouted over the rising crackle of one hell of a fire. He could also smell some unnatural smells that he was pretty sure would give him cancer in twenty or thirty years if he got too many lungfuls. Not that he was all that confident about his ability to live that long considering how his night had been going so far. "That thing is more important than getting your ass out of the burning apartment?"
"This thing might save our asses when we get outside," Ron growled, blinking a couple of times and pulling himself up to his hands and knees. As Mike looked at his friend he thought he could almost see a health bar over Ron that showed he was at about half of his hit points.
Which wasn’t exactly a surprise, but it was a little odd to look at a human and see his current health being registered in hit points rather than in modern medical terminology. Which was more proof to Mike that this night was going to hell fast.
Or going to a game fast, though so far that game seemed like his own personal hell. Except for the brief break he’d taken with Gwen in the back of the bakery, that is. That’d been pretty fun.
"Can we go now please?" he asked.
"Sure thing," Ron said. "Right after we help those ladies and get that thing off of Sean.”
"Great," Mike said.
That werewolf looked like it was even heavier than Ron, not to mention loaded down with armor. Also its buddy was still yelping at the front entrance which, for the moment, was blocked by fire. He wondered if the thing would work up the balls to jump through that wall of flame.
Ron had determined that these things had balls, after all. He also wondered how long it would be before that wall of flame from the curtains moved through the rest of the apartment. He really didn’t want to be around when that happened.
Ron crawled across the room and started pushing at the werewolf on top of Sean. Glancing at the thing Mike could see it's hit points had gone down to zero. There wasn’t even so much as a twitch.
Mike turned to the front door. He tried to ignore the two halves of Doug still lying on the floor. About the only good thing that could be said about those two halves was at least a dead body bleeding out was very quickly going to be the last thing Ron and Sean had to worry about when it came to losing their damage deposit.
More concerning, though, were the shadows he could still make out through the windows. Shadows that occasionally became the outline of armored werewolves as the light from the flames caught them just right through the window.
He wondered how many of those things were out there. How long would it have taken them to run this distance? It's not like he was speeding or anything to get over here, but realistically it was only about five miles to the village from here.
He figured that was plenty of time for the things to run here if they were homing in on him somehow. He patted his dice bag. He had a pretty good idea of exactly how it was they were homing in on him.
If he was a player in this fucked up game then it stood to reason that monsters designed to take out players would naturally gravitate towards him. These might not even be the monsters from the campus village. Maybe campus was lousy with these things right now, which meant there were a bunch of drunks stumbling around looking for a good time who were about to find themselves going from looking for a reenactment of a dorm themed porn video to starring in a horror movie real fucking fast.
He thought about tossing the dice. Literally tossing them into the fire. Only the d20 had reappeared in his pocket after tossing it into a gas explosion earlier, and he was pretty sure these things were coming after him, not the dice. Tossing them aside, assuming he could, would be getting rid of his only sure protection
The singed wolf at the door locked its eyes on Ron. Mike waited for it to burst through the flames, a nightmare made singed flesh come to kill them despite the destruction around it, but it seemed hesitant. Its eyes darted to the dice in his hand. It sniffed again, as though unsure of itself. And it suddenly occurred to Mike exactly what was going on here.
He'd already killed one of these things in that dark alley, and a few more in that gas explosion. He'd just accidentally killed another one with that critical failure that’d also endangered his friends.
What if those things were afraid? What if that hesitation wasn’t for the flames, but rather were because he was in there?
Sure he was far more likely to do something that would injure himself and his friends, but those things didn't know that.
Mike stood and backed away from the things in the hopes it might draw the werewolf’s attention from his friends while they helped Sean. Incidentally that also had the effect of backing him away from the flames which were licking higher and higher along the wall. He knew it wasn't going to be long before everything in this place caught fire, and they needed to have Sean out from under that monster and out of here before that happened.
The werewolf at the door lost some of its hesitation when he didn’t do anything. It took a step through the flames. Little flames ran up and down its body and it looked comical rather than terrifying as it patted at its fur to put them out, but that was a distraction that gave Mike a moment to reach the table and surreptitiously grab a d20.
Not the magical d20. He had no intention of throwing that thing unless he absolutely had to. Not after he’d seen some of the consequences of fucking around with powers beyond the understanding of mortal man.
He brought his hand around. Held up the normal plastic die and tried not to think about all the nasty stuff he was breathing in to have enough breath to challenge this werewolf.
"Hey asshole!" he shouted.
Ron turned and looked at him. Mike rolled his eyes.
"Not you asshole," he said. "The werewolf asshole!”
The werewolf snarled. Raised its blade. He wasn't sure if it could understand English, but it sure as hell seemed to have no problem understanding his tone.
"That's right you werewolf asshole," Mike said. "How about I do the same to you that I did to your friends?"
He held up the d20. Oh yeah. That got the werewolf’s attention. Its eyes went wide and it opened its mouth in a snarl as it jumped back.
Right into the wall of flaming curtains behind it. A wall of flame that rapidly engulfed the thing. All that fur was excellent kindling for the fire, and it turned into a walking werewolf torch that shot out the front door and slammed into other surprised werewolves that were just working up the courage to move in.
From the pained yelps that filled the night the thing’s companions were just as upset about running into their flaming comrade as their comrade was about being turned into a column of flame. Again it seemed that stop, drop, and roll wasn’t something that was covered in whatever combat training these things underwent wherever the hell it was they came from.
"Would you guys quit fucking gawking and get the hell out of here?" he shouted.
"And I thought I was nuts taking those things on with a replica sword," Ron muttered, turning back to lifting the dead wolf off of Sean, who was starting to blink and come around. Sort of.
Mike ran and started pushing. Finally the dead werewolf rolled to the side.
"It took you long enough," Sean said, coughing with every other breath as he got to his hands and knees. The air in this place was really getting nasty.
The heat was like nothing
else. It beat out even when he'd fired off that fireball in the alley. Basically he understood now why there was such a good reason to be terrified of fire. This was nothing like the nice tame fires he’d enjoyed roasting marshmallows over when he was a kid camping with his parents. This was pure fury of nature type stuff, even if none of the shit that was burning was in any way natural.
“Get out!” he shouted. “Get out of there!”
They all scrambled towards the back on their hands and knees, Sean limping just a little, and Ron looking ridiculous with his crazed eyes, his bushy beard that was singed in several places, and his massive claymore dragging behind him.
Surprisingly enough he didn't have a limp despite the fact that it seemed like he'd taken one hell of a hit. Mike figured maybe it would take more than some cheap college apartment drywall to do his friend in for good.
Gwen looked almost as ridiculous carrying that gun with her. Even more so when she stopped to grab something from under the sink. Mike had a pretty good idea what that was, but he wasn’t stopping to find out for sure.
They scrambled out the back entrance. Thankfully this place had a back entrance. Mike had been in plenty of cheap apartments where there was only the front entrance, and they would’ve been screwed with the fire and those werewolves blocking the only potential exit. They scrambled down the back stairs and into the parking lot.
Once they were a safe distance from the apartment everyone turned and stared. It sort of brought to mind the end of Star Trek 3 for Mike. The old one featuring Shatner fighting Doc Brown, and not the newer one with that improbably awesome Sabotage scene.
He looked up at a place where they’d made a lot of good memories, for all that it really was nothing more than cookie-cutter off-campus housing that’d been built as cheaply as possible to pack as many students as possible who'd gotten sick of dorm life.
"My God Ron," he said. "What have I done?"
24
Goddess Interruptus
A big beefy hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"You torched my fucking apartment is what you did you crazy bastard!” Ron roared. "Do you have any idea what that's going to cost? Are we up on our renters insurance policy?"
It took Sean a moment to realize that question was aimed at him. Though Mike could understand his friend having a little bit of trouble with reality at the moment.
If ever there seemed a moment when it would be convenient to check out of reality, this was one of them.
"Oh yeah," Sean said. "I just hope they have the paperwork on file at their place, because I had all our paperwork in the filing cabinet in there."
Ron let out a defeated sigh. “Do you have any idea how many replica blades I had in there? And then there was my entire plastic armor collection!"
“Not to mention I’m not sure if the policy covers destruction from armored werewolves or magical explosions,” Sean muttered.
"I'm sorry man," Mike said. "But we kind of needed to get the hell out of there."
"We were doing just fine with my claymore thank you very much, before you started throwing grenades. What was that anyway? I didn't think you’d be the type to carry around homemade explosives!"
"Um, I think you're missing something important here Ron," Lisa said.
"What could be more important than Mike throwing around homemade explosives and torching my apartment?" he roared, wheeling on Lisa.
To her credit, Lisa didn't seem at all intimidated by Ron’s roaring. Then again she'd had quite a lot of experience with Ron roaring and bellowing. He didn't get into a temper all that often, but when it happened it was epic.
And short lived.
Though Mike couldn't be sure whether or not it was temper this time or misdirected bloodlust after finally getting to use his swords the way he'd always dreamed.
"I think the more important question is what the hell were those things, and what were they doing at your apartment?" Lisa asked.
"And what about Doug?" Sean asked. "Those things just killed him! I'm assuming this isn't all a part of some elaborate joke you guys are pulling on us?"
"I tried to tell you already," Mike said. "No joke. Those were the things that attacked us in the campus village."
"Wait. So you had giant monsters following you in the village, and you decided to lead them to us rather than the police?" Lisa asked, wheeling on Mike.
He held his hands up. It was the sort of defensive posture his ancient primate ancestors would’ve used if they suddenly found themselves fighting against a monster with pointy teeth and sharp claws and no tools to defend themselves. Not that he thought it was going to do him much good now. Lisa advanced on him and poked a finger in his chest.
"You're crazy!" she said. "If something like that is chasing you then…"
"Then what?" Mike asked. "Go to the cops and tell them we were attacked by a werewolf? How seriously do you think they’d take us if we did that?"
That stopped Lisa before she could poke him in the chest again. She shut her mouth. Cocked her head to the side and seemed to be seriously thinking about it.
"Oh," she said. "I guess you do have a point there."
"Exactly," Mike said. "If I'd talked to the cops then they'd throw us in the drunk tank where we’d have to sit and listen while of those things slaughtered them. If we were lucky.”
"Come on," Ron said with an eye roll. "Those things in leather armor aren't going to pull a Terminator on the cop shop around here. Cops have guns. Those monsters don’t!”
"Are you sure about that?" Gwen asked. "The best we have around here is campus cops, and the worst they have to deal with is babysitting drunk college kids on weekends. You really think they'd be able to stand up to those things?"
"Whatever," Sean said, cutting through their argument. "I think we're all missing something very important here."
"What's that?" Mike snapped.
"Have we all forgotten that those things are still out there?" he said, nodding to the building.
A sinking feeling hit Mike. He knew what he was going to see if he turned around, but his brain was bargaining with a universe that seemed to enjoy playing tricks on him. Maybe if he didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge that there were shadows streaming around the building and coming for them, then maybe they wouldn't exist.
It was like Schrödinger's werewolf, but instead of being stuck inside a box they were on the other side of an apartment where they could stay for all he cared.
Though of course nothing was going to keep them from what they wanted. The dice pulsed in his pocket, ready for a fight he was reluctant to bring them into considering the danger he now knew they posed if he got a bad roll. He almost thought he could hear that toga goddess laughing in his head, and he understood now why magic users had so much trouble in this fucked up game he’d been thrown into.
"What are those things after?" Lisa asked. “Why won’t they leave us alone?”
“They’re after me,” Mike said. “I’m the whole reason they’re here. Monsters come after players.”
"What the hell are you talking about?" Lisa asked.
"I'm talking about this,” Mike said.
He took out his trusty purple whiskey bag and poured out his new dice onto his hand. They glowed ever so faintly.
“Whoa,” Lisa said. "You got some light up dice? Why the hell would a bunch of werewolves be chasing you for some light up dice?”
"Why would you get something like that?" Ron asked. "You not know Doug would never allow something like that at his table. He says the LEDs screw up the weight.”
"I don't think those are being lit by LEDs," Lisa said, squinting at the things.
"That's not light up dice," Mike said. “Remember? I told you I used these to kill werewolves in the campus village. I just fucking used them to set fire to Ron’s apartment! You all saw it! Would you stop trying to pretend this isn’t happening and admit we’re in the middle of some fucked up shit here that’s very real?”
Lisa leaned
in closer, and her eyes went wide. Upon a closer inspection it was fairly obvious that yes, the dice were lit from the inside and no, there wasn't the telltale point of light that said there was an LED in there somewhere providing that illumination.
"What the hell are those?" Sean asked.
“Magic dice made out of dragonbone,” Mike said. “They’re my weapon of choice in some magical game being played by gods and goddesses, or at least beings so powerful they might as well be gods and goddesses.”
"Magic dice?" Sean asked, scratching his head. "I mean I'm willing to admit there's some weird stuff going on here tonight that makes me more inclined to believe in the paranormal than I might've previously been, but seriously? Magic dice?"
“Gods and goddesses?” Ron said, stroking at his beard.
“And what a goddess,” Mike said. “Like my patroness appeared in some sort of holy hot tub, and holy fuck was she… ow!”
He stopped at a smack from Gwen.
“Easy there boy,” she said. “Wouldn’t want you to go accidentally pissing off a goddess by talking about how great her rack looked in that hot tub.”
“So you noticed too?” Mike asked.
Gwen stuck her tongue out, but Mike got the feeling that smack was more that she didn’t want him talking about his patron goddess and her huge tracts of land than it was anything to do with her worrying about said patron goddess being upset about them talking about how hot she was.
The lady didn’t seem like the type to get all pissed off about people talking about how hot she was.
“This is insane,” Lisa said.
“So does that mean those things are everywhere?”
“And are there other people playing the game?”
“Well there were a bunch of trumpets earlier when someone found some sword. There’ve been more in the distance which means more people are finding artifacts. Did you guys hear that?” Mike asked.
Dice Mage: A GameLit Adventure Page 17
