Gods of Blood and Bone (Seeds of Chaos Book 1)

by Azalea Ellis

  I remembered strange, crazy things. Nightmares. People had grabbed me when I tried to help some random guy. They’d injected me with something.

  I lifted my hand to the back of my neck and pressed around at the base of my skull, then the spot an inch below that, then ran my finger over the skin of my throat where the woman had held the marble-injector-thing. There was no pain, no nicks or cuts that I could feel. I’d miraculously made it home, after they’d left me passed out in the alley.

  And then what? I remembered flashes of a sterile room, strange machines, doctors, and some deep and soothing sound. I frowned and shook my head with a sigh. I couldn’t remember. I’d been way too out of it. Sick.

  What had they done to me? Injected me with some sort of disease, perhaps. We were always hearing about terrorism on the news. That was one of the main reasons for the establishment of the enforcers a few years ago. Maybe I’d just been unlucky enough to meet some terrorists.

  But, no, that didn’t make sense. They knew who I was. They’d said, “It’s her.” If they’d injected me with something infectious, I wouldn’t be here, in my room, with Zed not even wearing a mask. I would be quarantined. So maybe it had been some sort of poison?

  I groaned. I couldn’t think. Maybe Zed would be able to tell me what my diagnosis was. If the doctor had come, my brother would know the result, since he’d obviously been at my bedside since the day before.

  I went back into my room, sat down on my bed, and gently shook Zed’s shoulder.

  He jerked awake, eyes wide and bleary, and looked around. “I’m up, I’m up! What’s wrong?” His eyes focused on me, and then his lips parted in a relieved smile. “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so glad you finally woke up. I mean, the doctor did say we should expect you to sleep for a long time as your body fought off the virus, but when you didn’t wake up for three days, I started to wonder—”

  “Whoa, whoa,” I said, holding out my hand to stop him. “Three days? I’ve been sleeping all this time?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, mostly. I think so.” He looked uncomfortable, awkward, which was rare.

  I frowned suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘mostly?’ ”

  He grimaced. “You were having nightmares. Or hallucinations, maybe. The doctor said…”

  “Mom really did pay for a doctor?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course. I mean, she wanted to take you to the hospital, but you know we don’t have that kind of money. What do you remember?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I got attacked on the street, and they injected me with something. People in masks. I was trying to get home, and I thought maybe they were watching, and there were doctors and machines in a small room. I was tied down…” I trailed off, frowning. “I guess I did get quarantined or something? I thought you said I didn’t go to the hospital.”

  Zed bit his lip. “Umm, okay. So the doctor said this might be a side effect. All of that stuff didn’t happen. You were probably hallucinating, or maybe just dreaming. He said that in most cases, patients experience paranoid hallucinations during the fever, and possibly afterward, too, and that we should keep an eye on you, and he gave me some sedatives because he said sometimes they continue for a little while after the fever’s over and that if you get too worked up you should take one…” he rambled.

  I let myself tune out his voice as he went on. Hallucinations. Is that what everything had been? Just my stressed out, overheated brain creating imaginary terrors? “But they seemed so real,” I murmured, cutting off his explanation of the sedatives. But maybe I was wrong. “What could cause something like that?”

  “He said it’s a new strand of virus. Usually not deadly, but there’s no treatment for it yet, so he said to just give you lots of fluids and rest and to try to make sure you stayed grounded in reality.” His fingers tapped nervously on his knees, full of nervous energy and the need to help.

  They were testing out some sort of bioterrorism, then? “Zed, I could have gotten you sick!”

  “No. The doc said it’s not very contagious, and isn’t normally translated through anything except blood. Do you know what may have happened?”

  “I don’t remember anything like that. And I promise I haven’t stuck myself with any used needles lately.” I smirked, then met Zed’s concerned eyes and changed it to a softer smile. “Do you think you could get me something to eat? I’m feeling a bit empty.”

  He grinned. “Not eating in three days will do that to you, I hear. I’ll go get something. Be right back.”

  As soon as he was gone, I picked up my ID sheath link and looked up my most recent transaction. Three hundred twelve credits, transportation and sanitation fee.

  I wasn’t hallucinating everything. So how could I tell what had actually happened?

  * * *

  The back of my neck tingled, and then pulsed out a little shock that felt like static electricity. Unlike static electricity, it caused me to go blind for a second, and then my vision sputtered back to life like an old car’s engine.

  Except now, a paper-thin, translucent screen hung in front of my face. I let out a stifled shriek and scrambled backward, shoving my covers into a pile in my haste to place myself as far away from it as possible. I stopped once my back was pressed firmly against the wall and I could go no further.

  The screen floated unperturbed, the same distance from my face.

  My eyes read the words on it without conscious thought.

  WARNING: DO NOT DISCUSS THE GAME OR YOUR STATUS AS A PLAYER TO CIVILIANS.

  I reached out and tentatively hovered my hands over and around the edges of the screen, careful not to touch it. There were no wires, no strings holding it in place. I slipped my hand behind it and watched my slightly blurred fingers wiggle back at me.

  “This is not good.” I hesitated, then reached out and poked it with a finger. It reacted to my touch, though I felt nothing, and it popped out of existence as if I’d burst a bubble. Another one replaced it a second later.

  EVE REDDING, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR INITIATION TO THE GAME.

  That one faded away on its own, and was replaced by another.

  YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL ONE!

  YOU HAVE GAINED ONE SEED!

  PLEASE EXTEND YOUR HAND PALM UP TO RECEIVE YOUR SEED.

  “Oh, hell,” I croaked. “This isn’t real. It’s not real.” Even so, I couldn’t help but hold my hand out, facing upward in shaky supplication. I was screaming inside, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Resisting insanity was a much better idea, but my curiosity got the best of me. It seemed too real.

  Over my hand the air rippled strangely, like a heat wave rushing out from my palm, distorting my vision. It was similar to the mirage of distant water on the ground that you can see on a really hot day.

  Then it was gone, and where the air had once been, one of those glass balls my captors and the boy had used sat in my palm.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, so freaked out I felt I might start sputtering gibberish and banging my head against the wall. My heart beat like a subwoofer inside my chest as I opened my eyes and brought the ball closer to my face for inspection.

  The early morning sunlight angled through my window and glinted off the marble-like sphere. A branching, maze-like pattern was etched into the clear glass in spidery, metallic lines. Inside the glass shell some sort of shimmering liquid swirled slowly around. Across the face of the marble, a string of letters rose to the surface and flowed past my eyes. The words read “MAKE A WISH.”

  That was too much for me. “Zed!” I screamed.

  He came rushing into the room, still holding a piece of bread in his hand and looking around frantically. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you see this?” I held up the ball, my hand shuddering. “Tell me!”

  “Yes, I see it. Calm down, what’s wrong?” He held his hands in up a calming motion and pushed my arm down. “What’s the matter?”

  I pulled my hand free and shook the marble. “Look closer. What do you
see?”

  He frowned and peered at it. “It’s a marble, Eve. Probably from a street vendor. Are you feeling all right?” He placed his hand on my forehead to test my temperature, and I brushed it away in irritation.

  “What about that?” I pointed to the screen hanging in front of my face. “Do you see that?”

  His eyebrows scrunched together further and his voice grew tight. “See what, Eve? What am I supposed to be seeing?”

  I shook my head and pressed the palms of my hands hard to my eyes. “You’d know what I was talking about if you could see it. It’s hanging in the air, dammit!”

  “I’m going to get you one of those sedative pills. You stay right there, Eve. Don’t move, and try to calm down. Just stay there, okay?”

  Where would I go to get away from my own head? Besides, I barely had the strength to get to the bathroom. Did he think I’d run away? Jump out the window?

  I took my hands away from my face and nodded, and he bolted away, the piece of bread now squished in his fist, forgotten.

  The bread was so ludicrous, so removed from everything my crazy brain was trying to smash me with that I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I was still giggling when another window popped up, different than the others.

  EVE, YOU’RE PERILOUSLY CLOSE TO BREAKING THE RULE ABOUT DISCLOSING GAME INFORMATION TO NON-PLAYERS. YOU REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THAT.

  —Bunny—

  My laughter died in my chest, and I froze.

  WHEN HE COMES BACK, YOU BETTER REALIZE THAT YOU’RE FEELING SICK AND FEVERISH, AND HAD ANOTHER HALLUCINATION, IF YOU CARE FOR HIS OR YOUR OWN SAFETY.

  OH, AND BY THE WAY…NICE TO MEET YOU. :P

  —Bunny—

  “Who are you?”

  I’M BUNNY, YOUR GAME MODERATOR.

  —Bunny—

  Chapter 3

  I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

  — Sylvia Plath

  Zed sat watching me eat, concern etched all over his face.

  I stuffed the fresh sausage, eggs, biscuits, and gravy into my mouth ravenously, both to satiate my hunger and to excuse me from discussing my “hallucination” with him.

  My heart was beating fast, too fast, as if I’d had too much caffeine and couldn’t calm down. It was a sour feeling.

  When I’d finished, I licked the plate and plopped backward onto my pillows with a big sigh.

  He pushed a glass of cloudy yellow liquid toward me. “Drink this. It’s vitamix and lemon water. You need to get some nutrients to help rebuild your strength.”

  I sighed and shot my little brother a look.

  He grinned back at me and rolled his eyes. “It’s good for you. Just drink it. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah, just think of this as practice for when I join the Peace Corps. You’re my dummy patient.”

  I snorted and complied, gulping down the mixture made only slightly better by the taste of lemon. “Okay, I feel better now. I think I just needed something in my stomach.” I let out a loud yawn, not fake at all. “I’m really tired now. I don’t think I’ll need that pill. I’m just gonna go back to sleep.” I studied his worn face and bloodshot eyes. “You should probably go to sleep, too. I know you don’t have anything important to do. And I’m fine, so you don’t need to keep ‘mother hen-ing’ me.”

  He studied me for a moment while I did my best to look sane, calm, and not as if I was trying to make him leave for some ulterior motive. Even though I was hallucinating invisible screens who called themselves Bunny, freaking out, and trying to shoo Zed away so I could talk to them. In short, I was lying.

  “Okay. If you need anything, just shout.”

  “Roger.”

  Zed was a genuinely good person, and the opposite of me in almost every way. Brave, popular, handsome, and he had an unselfish nature.

  That’s why I sent him away, and didn’t say anything about the reason my heart was beating so frighteningly hard. Because if I wasn’t crazy, whatever was going on wasn’t good, and he didn’t deserve to be involved in it. And if I was crazy, it would pass along with my lingering sickness, and no harm would come of it.

  Alone, I took a deep breath and whispered, “Umm … Bunny? Are you there?”

  YES. NOW THAT HE’S GONE, LET ME EXPLAIN WHAT’S GOING ON.

  —Bunny—

  “First things first, am I crazy? Is this a paranoid delusion?”

  NO. THE DOCTOR WAS ONE OF OURS. HE TOLD YOUR FAMILY THAT SO THEY WOULD IGNORE ANY STRANGE ACTIONS OR ACCUSATIONS YOU MIGHT MAKE ABOUT BEING ATTACKED OR THE GAME.

  —Bunny—

  “That’s just what a paranoid delusion would say. How do I know you’re really there? Is this really happening? And why do you want to keep it a secret?”

  THERE WILL BE PLENTY OF PROOF, IN TIME. THE FIRST PIECE BEING THAT YOUR BROTHER ACKNOWLEDGED THE “MARBLE’S” EXISTENCE. IT’S NOT A MARBLE, BUT IT IS OBVIOUSLY REAL.

  —Bunny—

  I slid the ball from under my pillow where I’d hidden it, and rolled it around my palm. “But he couldn’t see these…hologram screens.”

  THAT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE ONLY IN YOUR MIND.

  AND DON’T MAKE THAT FACE. JUST BECAUSE THE SCREENS AREN’T REALLY THERE DOESN’T MEAN YOU’RE IMAGINING THEM. SOMETHING ELSE IS REAL. THE VR CHIP EMBEDDED IN THE BASE OF YOUR BRAIN.

  —Bunny—

  “VR…Virtual Reality? Embedded in my brain? Is that what they were doing to the back of my neck?” I paused. “Wait, you can see me?”

  I’VE GOT ACCESS TO YOUR LINK CAMERA, AND OUR DOCTOR PUT A COUPLE DIFFERENT MONITORING DEVICES IN YOUR HOUSE UNDER THE GUISE OF CHECKING FOR DANGEROUS MOLD SPORES THAT COULD EXACERBATE YOUR CONDITION, SO WE CAN KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR INITIATION.

  SIGH. IF YOU’D JUST LET ME EXPLAIN WITHOUT INTERRUPTING, ALL OF THIS WOULD BE A LOT EASIER. JUST BE QUIET FOR FIVE MINUTES.

  —Bunny—

  I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

  YOU ARE NOW A PLAYER OF THE GAME. AND AS FAR AS I KNOW, YOU’RE NOT CRAZY. WE TEST FOR THAT BEFOREHAND. THE GAME ISN’T THE CONSOLE OR COMPUTER TYPE YOU MAY BE USED TO. IT’S COMPLETELY INTERACTIVE, COMPLETELY REAL. THE OUTCOME IS ONLY DEPENDENT ON YOU, AND BY LEVELING UP, YOU CAN GAIN THE ABILITY TO CHANGE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF, IN REAL LIFE. YOU LEVEL UP BY COMPLETING QUESTS GIVEN TO YOU BY ME, YOUR MODERATOR, AND BY ACHIEVEMENTS IN THE TRIALS, WHICH ARE GAME-LIKE TESTS OF YOUR ABILITY. YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN 1 FREE SEED, TO USE AS YOU SEE FIT. YOU MAY NOT TALK ABOUT OR DISTRIBUTE INFORMATION ON THE GAME TO NON-PLAYERS.

  AND EVE…THERE ARE NO DO-OVERS. YOU ONLY HAVE 1 LIFE.

  —Bunny—

  * * *

  Bunny had given me an introductory quest to familiarize myself with the Game’s “user interface,” and then left me in visual silence, writing that he had something more important to tend to.

  I didn’t proceed with the quest, but instead thought about what he’d said till the lingering fatigue of my sickness overpowered everything, and I slept. I woke and raided the fridge, my body ravenous for the nutrients to rebuild itself, then slept again.

  The next morning, I was ready to deal with the situation once more.

  “Bunny?” I called into the empty air of my room, hoping nothing reacted and I could write it all off as a crazy dream.

  YES.

  —Bunny—

  Tch. No such luck. “I’ve got some more questions.”

  I HAVE ANSWERS. SOME OF THEM, ANYWAY.

  —Bunny—

  “How are you talking to me like this?

  WE BOTH HAVE VR IMPLANTS, AND THEY SEND SIGNALS TO EACH OTHER. YOUR BRAIN KNOWS WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO COMMUNICATE WITH ME AND ACTIVATES THE CHIP.

  —Bunny—

  “You can read my thoughts?”

  LOL, THEY MAY WANT US TO TELL YOU WE’RE ALL-KNOWING, BUT WE CAN’T RECEIVE MESSAGES YOU DON’T WANT US TO. YOUR PRIVATE THOUGHTS ARE YOUR OWN.

  —Bunny—

  “Did they do the sam
e thing to you they did to me, or did you accept it willingly?”

  THIS IS MY JOB.

  —Bunny—

  “Working for who?”

  HAH! NICE TRY.

  —Bunny—

  “You warned me to keep this Game a secret. What happens if I talk about it with other people?”

  TRUST ME. YOU DON’T WANT TO DO THAT.

  —Bunny—

  “But what if I did?”

  LET’S JUST SAY THAT THE INFORMATION YOU REVEALED WOULD NEVER MAKE IT ANYWHERE FURTHER.

  —Bunny—

  I wondered exactly what that might entail, but the gist was pretty obvious. If I told someone, they’d never be able to tell anyone else. The easiest way I could think to ensure silence was death. “Okay. Next question. What if I refuse to play?”

  LOL. YOU CAN’T REFUSE. YOU’RE A PLAYER, AND THERE’S NO GOING BACK. REFUSING TO PLAY WOULD REALLY ONLY BE DECIDING TO PLAY BADLY. WELL…PERHAPS YOU COULD KILL YOURSELF, BUT RATHER THAN ‘NOT PLAYING,’ I TEND TO THINK OF DEATH MORE ON THE TERMS ‘LOSING.’ ”

  —Bunny—

  I swallowed. “Well, what happens if I play well?”

  IF YOU PLAY WELL, YOU GET MORE SEEDS. AND THE SEEDS ARE REALLY THE POINT OF IT ALL. THEY ALLOW YOU TO CHANGE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOURSELF, EXCEPT PERSONALITY. THE 13 ATTRIBUTES. THEY MAKE YOUR WISHES COME TRUE, LITERALLY.

  —Bunny—

  “Thirteen Attributes?”

  PART OF THE QUEST I GAVE YOU, WHICH YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVEN’T DONE.

  —Bunny—

  I bit the inside of my lip. “I had a lot of things to think about. This is overwhelming.”

  YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO BECOME A LOT MORE ADAPTABLE. SIGH. LET’S RUN THROUGH IT NOW, THEN.

  —Bunny—

  I frowned, and hesitated. “Umm, what do I…?”

  DOUBLE SIGH. YOU’RE A BIT USELESS, AREN’T YOU? SAY “DISPLAY QUESTS.”