by Adam Drake
Talking to him wasn't going to work. I looked about searching for an access screen. Most sims kept one near during play so you could access the sim's program in case verbal cues didn't work.
I stood in a wide clearing among stone piles. A path between them appeared to be the only exist, short of climbing. In the center was the disgusting pool of blood. On the other side was a tall white crystal, like a pillar, which glowed softly.
Confused, I said, “Where is the nearest access panel?” As a construct of the sim, he had to answer.
“What gibberish do you speak?” said the vile-looking fat man. “There is nothing for you except service to the Blood God. But first I must make an assessment of you. Even as a selected candidate you must meet basic requirements.”
Wanting nothing more to do with him, I turned away. Maybe if I touched one of the rocks or the crystal pillar the panel would appear. But when I tried to move I found my legs rooted to the ground.
“By the stars! What is this?” I said, my temper growing. “Let me go. I need to move.”
The man shook his head, his many chins jiggling with agitation. “You need to shut up while I look you over. Here, now. What can we make of you?”
A floating status screen appeared before me.
Name: Zyra
Class: Berserker
Level: 1 (500 Blood Points for Level 2)
Talent Points: 1 (1 Unused)
Blood Points: 0
Health Points: 50
Magic Points: 20
Power: 25
Might: 12 (+2 Class Bonus)
Reflex: 10
Mind: 10
Vigor: 12 (+2 Class Bonus)
Deity: Blood God. (+10% Bonus Blood Points Earned)
Marks: None
Skills:
Butchery: 5% (+1 Weapon Damage)
Hand-to-hand: 5% (+1 Unarmed Damage)
“Hmm,” the man said as he looked over the screen from the other side. “A berserker. I see you already have Butchery and Hand-to-hand skills. Those will most certainly be used. Our god craves savagery in his followers. You will be no exception.”
Now angry beyond words, I shouted at him, the screen vanishing. “This has gone on long enough! My ship needs me, damnit! Log me off, or get me access to the bridge systems or something!” Looking up at the bleak clouds and screamed up at them. “Otto! Otto! What, by the bloody stars, is going on? Sitrep!”
The man watched me rant and rave, then nodded. “Anger is good. Yes. Anger gets one's blood lust up. Aids in the slaughter. This I can work with.”
“Oh, for the love of...” I shouted. “Get me out of here!” I was beside myself with rage. I needed out of this sim!
“Out?” the man said, arching a hairless brow. “There is no out once you have given yourself over to the Blood God. Your soul is his now. For now and all eternity. But fear not, bitch. You time in this realm will not be wasted. Our god needs his weapons for the coming war. And use you he will.”
My temper fueled haze cleared slightly as I attempted get a hold of myself. The Captain's Protocol!
To the man and the dark world around me, I shouted, “Captain's Protocol! One Alpha Nine Nine Gamma Six!” The protocol allowed to override any system at any time on the ship, regardless of the situation. One of the perks of being the captain. I'd been too overwhelmed with this fantasy horrorland to think of it, at first. If anything, it would immediately bring a halt to this program or at least allow me to finally access the ship's systems.
This time, both of the man's hairless brows crawled up his face. “What is this? Are you attempting to invoke an ability? You've just arrived, you daft cow. You haven't harvested any Marks to use! Ha!”
Nothing happened, and I cursed. Were the ship's systems so damaged I was trapped? Sims were a favorite pastime for deep space explorers. Immersed in another world allowed travelers the luxury of occupying themselves when not in hibernation. They'd also advanced far enough that you no longer needed to wear visors or masks, or any other type of interface. Simply select the sim, and sit back and relax.
Somehow, I'd logged into this sim and was beginning to suspect it may have been Otto's doing. He controlled everything. Perhaps it was to protect my mind from the harsh reality of the ship cracking open. The same technology used for sims was also used to induce patients before surgery. I envisioned my limp body sprawled on the deck of the bridge, eyes rolled back in my head, the connection to the damaged computer systems tenuous.
But that, too, didn't make much sense. I knew the ship had been attacked. I heard the tearing of the ship's hull. I should be dead. We should all be dead.
I sudden slap across the face jolted me out of my thoughts. Temper flaring, I glared at the ugly man.
“I have your attention, now, do I?” he said, stepping back. “Good. Then we can begin.”
“You stupid son of a...” I started to shout when a terrifying realization overcame me.
He hit me. Actual physical contact. And I felt it. Pain. Sims couldn't do that.
A cold pang of fear pierced my chest. What kind of sim was this?
Worried now, I asked, “What is the name of this simulation?”
“Simulation?” the man said, confused. “What is a simulation? A form of magic?”
Uh oh. Every sim in existence happily gave you its name and details when asking non-player characters. Basic information was always available, regardless if it broke immersion. But it appeared I couldn't access it now, if it was available at all.
I decided on a different approach. “What is your name?”
“My name is Chak!” he said, slapping himself on the belly with pride. “I am a priest in the order of the Blood God! May his hunger never end!”
A information screen appeared above him, attaching itself to his head.
Chak – Blood Priest / Guide
Health 100%
Magic 100%
Bound to the Blood God
The health had a red bar next to it, the magic, blue.
I chose my next words carefully. “Chak, thank you for your help. But I am tired and wish to pause my journey. Is there a place to rest for a while?” Sleeping in a sim always brought you out of it. I hoped this one was no different.
Chak's scowl returned. “Rest? Why, you've only just been created.” He pointed at the bloody trough next to me. “Pulled yourself out of the Blood God's womb. There is no rest now. Only training.”
Womb? I looked down at the hole, revolted. There had to be a way to log out. Maybe it wasn't by sleeping.
Chak tapped his gruesome staff on the ground to get my attention. “Enough prattle. You have your level one talent point to assign. Pull up your talent trees.”
“Talent trees?” I said, my mind distracted with worry.
Another floating screen appeared, this one with three tabs along the bottom: Offensive, Defensive, Passive. The Offensive one was open showing a small symbol of a red fist at its bottom. Looking at the symbol brought up its information.
Bash 0/3
Cost: 5 Power
Cooldown: 2 minutes
This allows the user to Bash an opponent with greater strength, causing extra damage and the chance to disorient them.
+35% to Hit
+35% Damage
+15% Chance to Stun for 2 seconds
“Place your point into it,” Chak said.
I saw another floating line.
Unused Talent Points: 1
No, I didn't want to place anything anywhere, other than my foot up this guy's ass. But I felt the need to do as he asked if to just get rid of the screen.
Instinctively, I pointed a blood-crusted finger at the Bash symbol. It changed from 0/3 to 1/3.
Words appeared in a small box at the bottom left of my vision.
You have learned the Bash ability.
The talent-tree screen vanished.
“Excellent! Each time you purchase a level with blood points, you earn a talent point. Placing talent points into known abili
ties increases their power, while putting a point into unknown abilities allows you to learn them.”
“Uh huh,” I said, uninterested. I looked over the drying blood covering my body. How was I going to wash this stuff off?
“And now to earn those precious blood points,” Chak said with an oily grin, “with your first kill!”
Without warning, my frozen legs became unstuck, nearly causing me to pitch over into the blood pool. Surprised, I moved my legs around, and stretched them out.
“It is now I shall give you your first quest,” Chak said. “You are to slay an enemy of the Blo-.”
I startled him by walking past and toward the path leading out.
“What are you doing?” he called after me. “You need to accept the quest first!”
“Don't care!” I said over my shoulder. If this toad couldn't show me how to exit this sim, someone else might.
“Stop!” he shouted, but I ignored him.
I crossed the threshold of the clearing and into the path, jumbled rocks piled high on each side. It led away a few dozen paces and turned right. But before I could take another step, a jagged row of wooden spikes suddenly jutted out from the ground ahead, causing me to jump back. They extended upwards and stopped, forming a high wall, blocking the path completely.
Oh, of course, I thought.
I spun around to yell at Chek. “Take this down now or I'll-.”
My words ended in a scream of pain.
Chak had rushed up behind me and tapped me on the hip with the skull at the end of the staff. It was a gentle motion, one that you wouldn't think could hurt. But it did.
An intense burning sensation blossomed where I'd been touched, and spread quickly. The pain was horrific.
I backed up, desperate to get away from him, but he only stood and watched me. Looking down at my hip, I could see the flesh was boiling away exposing the bone beneath.
You have taken 5 health points of acid damage!
You have taken 5 health points of acid damage!
More messages scrolled up at the bottom left of my vision, but I didn't care. Shocked and convulsing with pain, I fell to the ground. I screamed and screamed as it spread over my body, eating my flesh and bones.
Chak stood over me, impassive; a petulant look on his face.
Through the blinding agony I witnessed my chest dissolve, feeling every bit of it go. My rib cage went, then my internal organs, until my beating heart was exposed. And I watched it all, helpless. At some point I went mad. Well and truly mad.
When the acid finally reached my rapidly beating heart, it imploded inward, blood gushing within the exposed cavity of my chest.
In the final moments, Chak leaned close and said, “Now maybe you will listen to me, bitch.”
You have taken 5 health points of acid damage!
You have 0 health points.
As I gasped my final breath, huge words loomed before me.
You have died.
Then, whiteness.
CHAPTER FOUR
Again, whiteness.
The moment the words of my death appeared, the pain mercifully ceased. Relieved, I let the peace of the white space fill my soul. I had never experienced pain like that before. Nothing even close.
I'd broken my wrist once after a fall. One of my earliest survey missions was in a small shuttle-jumper called a Bumblebee. Only capable of impulse travel, it was used to visit moons or large asteroids from a station. My team landed on a tiny moon, and I felt the compulsion to climb the walls of a nearby crater. Although the gravity was low, I was colossally clumsy, and landed wrong when I slipped.
That hurt a lot. But whatever Chak did to me, touching me with the staff, was a pain a thousand times more agonizing than a broken wrist. A million times worse.
No sim would do that to a participant. No sim could. Some of the best ones could simulate some form of touch, but only if you wore a full body suit. The ones we used on the Corena only stimulated through the eyes. You have a faint sense of touch, but you never felt anything truly solid. Or pain.
This sim did it all. Things had mass. The blood tasted like blood. The scorching pain of flesh being dissolved. No, this wasn't a ship sim.
Before I could contemplate it further, the whiteness started to fade. A familiar yellow and purple design formed before me. Suddenly, blood sloshed into my ears and spattered my face.
I was back in another bloody grave.
Although I was aware of where I was this time, I still had to fight back the primal urge to panic.
I scratched and punched at the membrane above me, my body twisting and turning in the deep blood. Finally, I punched through and the sight of dark clouds high above filled my vision.
I pulled myself out of the pool and flopped onto the ground, tired from the effort.
As I wiped blood from face to keep it from getting in my eyes, a man stood above me. Chak.
“Care to try, again?” he said. A grin tugged at the edges of his oily lips.
Gasping for air, I said, “Why did you do that?” My eyes went to the skull on the end of his staff. It grinned at me.
Chak harrumphed. “Why? Because you asked me to. Begged me. With your insolence, and your disdain for the god whom you serve.”
Carefully, with one eye on the staff, I got to my feet. Looking over my body I could see I was the same as before. Naked, save for a tiny loincloth, and drenched in sticky blood.
The blood priest grinned at my fearful expression. “There are two absolutes in this world, woman. Blood and pain. And you've managed to indulge both in your short time here.” He leaned close, grinning. “I envy you.”
There was no way I wanted to be touched by that staff again. None. So whatever this fat tub of grease wanted me to do, I'd do it.
“Can I ask a question?” I said, genuinely fearful.
Chak nodded. “Yes, of course. Not only am I your disciplinarian, I am also your guide, at least until you are ready.”
“What is this place?” I figured the direct approach might get me somewhere.
He titled his chin up in thought. For a brief moment, I was afraid he might touch me with the staff. Then he said, “You don't know? How can you not?”
“I'm new here,” I said and flinched as a flashing cascade of lightning spidered through the clouds above. “I don't understand what is going on, why I'm here.”
The fat man watched me for a few moments before he spoke. “Hmmm. That is interesting you would ask these things. It has been a long, long time since anyone had been picked as a candidate, and even then they weren't as ignorant as you.” His fingers holding his staff flexed slightly.
Alarmed, I quickly said, “If I am to serve the, uh, Blood God, I need to understand. Only then can I do what is needed of me.” Play along. It was my only option at the moment.
Chak watched me, taking some kind of measure. He said, “Yes. Very well. If only to help speed things along, I will tell you.” He raised hands in the air, flabby arms jiggling. “This is the Realm of Carnage. It is here that the gods do battle with one another. A vast battleground. One that has suffered eons of conflict and strife as a result.”
He waved a hand around the clearing. “We stand within a blight upon the Realm, a chasm from which the Blood God shall rise, again.”
“Rise?” I said.
“Yes. Our god was betrayed. Slain in battle by those whom he thought of as allies. His death brought a great pain upon the world. But with your help, he shall return and gain his revenge!” His eyes grew wide, almost feverish.
I kept my face neutral. It sounded goofy enough to be a sim world, but at a hyper-level of realism I wasn't keen on.
“And my purpose for being here?” I asked.
Chak snorted in derision. “Purpose? Your purpose is the same as mine – to serve the Blood God. We are not only his acolytes in the Realm, we are also his weapons he needs to fight his enemies.” He pointed at me. “You are one of those weapons. If you do as he commands, perhaps you could
be his greatest champion. But first, you must be tested.”
“Okay, what is required of me?”
The fat man smiled, his cheeks plump and rubbery. “Ah, that is what I want to hear. You are to kill an enemy of the Blood God. This chasm is filled with them, all in service to craven gods who seek to impede his return.” He pointed his finger at the wooden gate. It retracted back into the ground revealing the path beyond.
You have been given a quest: First Kill
Find and slay two Burned Men who skulk nearby.
Reward: 200 Blood Points
I blinked at the task. “You want me to kill them?”
For the first time, Chak laughed, fat rolls heaving. When he finished, he said, “Woman, it is your main point for existing at all. Yes, kill them. And after, there will be more to kill. And after them, even more! Legions! Hordes! You will slay so many the empty oceans of Quddin could not be able to contain their corpses!”
Okay, then. I turned and walked out of the clearing and past the gate. Struck with I thought, I stopped and asked, “Don't I need a weapon?”
Chak looked at me, eyes gleaming. “You are the weapon.” He waved his hand and the gate slide up from the ground, blocking me from the clearing.
Well, at least I didn't have to talk to him. Hands on my hips, I looked around. The stacks of ragged stone formed walls on either side, creating a path that turned to the right. Looking above them, I could see a distance cliff face that stretched off into the distance. Above, the clouds twisted and turned like a blackened ocean caught in a storm, punctuated by pulses of lightning.
You are the weapon. That didn't sound good.
Worried idling at the gate might instigate another acid attack, I moved away and down the path. The hard ground was coarse and warm beneath my bare feet. I tried scraping the drying blood off my skin, but only made it appear worse. How I longed for the shower tube back on the ship.
The Corena.
Where was she? It had been my home for close to three years and countless surveys. The sound of its hull cracking rang through my ears, a sound no captain wanted to hear. The sound of death. Yet, I was alive, so that meant it had to have survived, too, right? I wouldn't be here in this place if the ship had been destroyed. But what of its fate? And my crew? I could only speculate as to what happened to them. Until I can find those answers, I'd play along with this crazy game.
