“You’re out of your element,” I remind her as I rush to Wolf and wrap my arm around his neck.
“So are you.”
Wolf turns to me and snaps his teeth. His eyes blood red now, the Tagvornin canine lunges for me as I fall backwards. He lands on top of me, and I just barely manage to buck him off and roll out of the way.
“Wolf!”
He comes in for another bite and I punch him in the snout.
He snorts, sneezes, and while he tries to recover from my attack, I loose a one of the throwing knives on my chest.
-29 HP!
The knife grazes the mermaid’s shoulder; she cries out as I try another blade, and she just manages to drop to the beach in time for my knife to miss her.
Wolf stands, and narrows his red eyes on me.
He’s possessed, I think, as I try to figure out what I should do next. The black hair on the back of his neck sticking straight up, he starts backing up to the vampiric mermaid.
The mermaid, her stomach still pressed into the sand, begins to push herself backwards towards the sea.
As soon as her tail hits the water, she’s able to move even faster, the frothy tide whipping at her effervescent scales.
“Dammit,” I run towards the mermaid, realizing that I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.
I leap for her, Wolf barking at me as the two of us flip and twist on the beach. Her mouth open, her teeth sharp, and her eyes filled with bloodlust, the vampiric mermaid quickly overpowers me and tries to drive her fangs into my neck.
Leaving my sword behind, I wrap both hands around her neck and hold her back.
Her serpent tongue drops from her mouth as I begin choking her. She manages to pull enough of her body into the water, the last place I want to be with a vampiric mermaid, and she immediately has the upper hand.
She drags me under, even though we’re only in a few feet of water.
Bubbles flash across my face as she comes in for another bite. I just barely manage to stop her, my fingers spread wide on her forehead as I push her away.
Fueled by adrenaline,I struggle with my free hand to get the last throwing knife attached to my chest.
The vampiric mermaid comes in for another bite, and I barely manage to pull away in time, the cold sea spraying into the air around us as she uses her tail to her advantage.
No! A voice screams inside my head as she drags me into deeper waters.
I hear Wolf barking on the shoreline everytime I’m able to come up for air. Her slick skin is at odds with her scales, which are slightly barbed and which now dig into my legs.
Losing strength, I try again to push away from her, to get air.
She keeps me under the water this time in an attempt to drown me. At the moment my lungs feel as if they’re about to burst, I bring the blade forward and drive it into her stomach.
-232 HP! Critical hit!
I twist the blade as we surface for air.
Blood now stains the water around us. I look to the beach to see Wolf moving away from the shoreline, his eyes no longer red.
The mermaid tries to swipe at me with her nails, but she’s losing steam fast.
I get my footing and grab her by the hair. With a grunt, I begin dragging her to the beach, where I’ll have more leverage.
She cries out, promises to give me whatever I’d like, to provide me with a strength I never knew I could have.
I ignore her as I pull her to the beach, a trail of blood from her body now staining the sand.
I drop, retrieve my Splintered Sword, and drive the blade into her stomach.
Instakill!
Level up!
“Don’t say I never did nothing for you,” I tell Wolf as I collapse next to the dead vampiric mermaid.
Part Two: Former Home Aflame
I awake to the feeling of a wet tongue lapping against my face. A blast of dog breath and I know exactly who it is. Wolf has dragged my ass away from the water. I can hear the waves lashing against the shore, the evening tide making its rounds.
“Thanks, Wolf,” I tell him, even though he wasn’t much help back there in the fight against the vampiric mermaid. He nudges me with his snout until I sit up fully. “I’m up, I’m up.”
Did I get a level up?
I pull up my character sheet to see that I did indeed level up.
Oric Rune
Class: Level 2 Player Killer
Subclass: Level 1 Herbalist
INFAMY: 1 Players killed
HP: 158/342
HP recovery rate: 2% per minute
ATK: 41 +51
DEF: 72 +9
From there, I go about assigning the three attribute points I got from the level up. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to be stronger, I put two points in STRENGTH and one point in WILL. After all, who doesn’t need a little willpower?
Attributes
STRENGTH: 3
WILL: 1
DEXTERITY: 1
MIND: 0
SPEED: 1
I feel my muscles bulge as my newfound strength settles in.
I push off the sand, and once I’m on my feet, I take that first baby step forward. It’ll be another hour and a half until we reach Ducat, which means we’ll reach there by nightfall.
No matter. I know the abandoned town like the back of my hand. Hell, I designed several parts of it. I could walk through it blindfolded and not trip over anything.
I grin at Wolf. “You know, it would be nice if I could ride you the rest of the way.”
His ears flit.
“I mean, I am the one doing all the fighting here.”
He whines and I can’t quite decipher the look in his eyes.
“Fine, fine, I’ll walk.”
As I start off towards Ducat, I take another piece of the Blue Melon jerky from my inventory list. Wolf barks as soon as he sees the jerky appear in my hand. He circles around me and jumps to get at it.
When a wolf that is three times your size jumps at you, you give him what he wants.
I toss the jerky to him and he snags it out of the air. He swallows it down, licks his lips, and barks for more.
“I’m the one that’s hungry here,” I remind him.
As we move away from Obelisk Sands, the color of the sand starts to change beneath my feet. We pass a small fire pit littered with evidence of digital humanity.
Wolf barks and circles around me again.
“I’m out of jerky,” I lie. “You ate it all. Look.” I show him my hands. “No jerky.”
***
As we walk to Ducat, an odd sense of fear washes over me.
They won’t be there, I remind myself, but the thought does little to ease my apprehension. Ducat was on fire, last I saw it, and the streets were filled with terror as the Drachma Killers rode through town, killing everyone within their reach.
The Killers are the reason I’ve become a Player Killer.
It may take me awhile, but eventually, I’ll be strong enough to take them on. Maybe Wolf will help me too, or maybe I’ll meet others that have been affected by the vilest murder guild Unigaea has ever seen.
The Drachma Killers are known for their brutality, the sheer sickness of how they kill and maim. They especially like pushing the bodies of Player Characters to their limits. Torture, skinning alive, cutting limbs and quickly cauterizing the wound... these bastards get off on torment.
“You won’t catch those ones,” I tell Wolf as a seagull flies overhead. He tracks the seagull and licks his lips. “Too high up.”
He barks anyway, tracking them with his big blue eyes.
“You should have been born with wings,” I tell him. “Then you could have all the damn seagulls you want.”
The setting sun casts orange ripples over the cool sea. In the distance I can see a fishing boat likely heading south towards Scudo.
Focus, Oric, I tell myself.
Having spent a considerable amount of time in this area, I know that I’m not too far from Ducat, a little o
ver a quarter of a mile from the southern entrance to the city.
Rather than ask myself what coming here is supposed to accomplish, I take off jogging towards the city and veer away from the shoreline, as not to be slowed down by the sand.
I reach a rocky patch and continue forward, going from boulder to boulder. Wolf is on my tail again, moving at a slow trot. I know he’s faster than me, and occasionally, he reminds me of this as he comes forward to nip at my ankles.
“Watch it!” I tell him.
We reach the city limits in no time.
My arms and legs warm, I do a few jumping jacks just for the hell of it. Wolf jumps with me, barking. He has warmed up to me, and I to him, and it’s nice having someone around, even if that someone can’t speak to me and could kill me at the drop of a hat.
“But you wouldn’t do that now, would you?” I ask as I extend my hand to him. He nods; I place my hand on his head and scratch him behind the ears.
We move down the lane that splits the razed town of Ducat.
There is no life here aside from the occasional rat, and many of the buildings, if not completely burnt to the ground, are shells of what they used to be. I envision the town in all its glory, the people moving through the streets, the breeze whistling through the air and carrying with it the smell of fresh baked bread.
That was then, this is now, I remind myself as I stop in front of my former home. I feel foolish all the sudden for coming here. Why would I want to go to the place where I committed suicide.
You killed yourself because you were about to be murdered, a voice reminds me.
“Still,” I say as I kick open what’s left of the door.
Wolf’s ears twitch and I ignore him as I enter. The stars twinkle above, the roof and the upstairs bedrooms are now missing. Debris is scattered across the floor and naturally, I look for the item that I did it with.
A letter opener.
It was either let the Killers torture me or end it then and there, and I chose the latter. The letter opener did the trick, and that was that.
Sudden death.
I kick through some of the debris as Wolf begins to bark. He’s still at the entrance to my former home, his eyes fixed on the street.
“Quiet,” I tell him, lost in my own thoughts of my time in this building. I’d renovated it two times and was planning a third renovation when Ducat came under attack. “It would have been nice,” I remind myself.
Wolf’s barks grow wilder as I wallow in my own misery.
I’m just about to turn to him and tell him to be quiet was I see the flicker of fire in the streets.
***
My first thought is that the Drachma Killers are back.
I know I’m not strong enough at this point to take them on, so I immediately start glancing around the room for some opportunity to escape.
There must be some way, I think as my hands tremble.
“No.”
Remembering who I am and why it is I have taken this particular avatar, I place my hand on the handle of my Splintered Sword and bring it up. Wolf has backed away from the door now, not yet able to figure out how he should respond.
“Just stick with me,” I whisper to him. With my back now to the wall, I glance outside to see…
Shit.
A group of figures, their body’s aflame, move zombie-like through the streets.
Pyro-afflicted.
If there could be a second worst enemy to arrive on scene after the Drachma Killers it would be the pyro-afflicted. These people have been infected with a flame that burns eternally yet doesn’t actually kill them. They are vile, and worse, contagious. If their flames touch me, I become one of them.
Why are they here?
One of the afflicted stops, lifts his neck into the air, spots me, and charges.
“Don’t touch them, Wolf!” I shout, knowing all too well that he can’t understand me.
Wolf barks, pushes past me, and rushes to meet the man.
“Wolf, no!” I take off after the man and just barely manage to toss a throwing knife in his direction.
-59 HP!
The knife connects with his chest and he falls. I reach Wolf just in time to grab the scruff of his neck hair and hold him back.
“You can’t,” I tell him as he snarls. “You’ll become them. Get!” I point in the opposite direction. “Wolf, get out of here. Now! Get!”
Confusion flashes across his blue-green eyes.
“Shit, Wolf, go!”
The pyro-afflicted man reaches out for me.
With barely a second to spare, I bring my Splintered Sword down on the flaming man’s other arm and sever it.
-120 HP!
His arm flips and his fingers curl. That’s the other thing about the afflicted. They are damn hard to kill. You basically have to cut down each piece of their body and take away their ability to move.
They don’t die, I remind myself as I start to backpedal.
I’m lucky that Ducat is built along a single lane.
I take off, figuring I can outrun the afflicted. Wolf gets the point and follows next to me. Easily faster than I am, he’s soon left me in the dust, his four legs carrying towards the city’s southern exit.
I’m just about to reach the exit of the city when I see several afflicted advance on me from the left. It’s then that I realize that all this was a trap, that they planned for me to run.
But how? I think as I flourish my blade and go to meet the first. No time to really think about it, I make the assumption that they hunt in packs and leave it at that.
Flames flickering off his arm, the first man to reach me tries to throw his hand in my direction.
-32 HP!
Off goes his hand, and I follow up my attack by pivoting right and bringing my Splintered Sword under and up.
-131 HP! Critical hit!
The rest of his flaming arm flies off and I roll away.
The two afflicted jump towards me and I have to dart to the right to avoid their flames.
The exit blocked by several more afflicted now, and the fact that there will be more coming from behind, forces me into the nearest burnt down home.
I hope this works, I think as I shoulder through what’s left of the door, run up the stairs and find an opening in the stone wall. I climb out the opening, see that most of the afflicted have started to run into the house and I jump.
Fuck!
I land wrong and feel my ankle crack.
I’d chug a healing potion if it weren’t for the fact that this feels like a broken bone – definitely a broken bone, I think, as I limp to my feet – and a healing potion won’t heal a broken bone.
My terrible landing also catches the attention of the last of the afflicted trying to get into the partially crumbled home. He turns to me, fire raging out of his mouth as he screams.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I say as I try to backpedal.
Of course, more pyro afflicted have appeared to my right this time, and they’re coming in fast. The first to reach me his flame breath from just a few moments ago.
I swing my broken blade at him just as he lunges for me.
-245 HP! Critical hit!
The prongs of my blade cut through his face, tearing flesh and fire away and halting his advance.
Pain spreading up my right calf, I scoot away from him and swing my Splintered Sword wide, with the hopes of stopping one of the afflicted approaching from the right.
My swing throws me off balance and I hit the ground.
This is it. I can tell as the first afflicted jumps towards me that I’m a fucking goner. I lasted all of two levels as a Player Killer. This is fucking it.
Maybe that should tell you something, you dumbass, I think as I use my arms to drag my body away from the flaming afflicted, their heat hot against my face.
Another afflicted dives towards me, just as a pair of teeth clamp onto my shoulder armor.
“Wolf!”
He starts dragging me away, snarling as the
afflicted dive after me. Once we’re a good ten feet away, I place my hand on his shoulder and lift my leg over his body.
I hold my body close to his as he takes off towards Obelisk Sands. My hands around his neck, his fur pressed into my face, I realize then that we have finally bonded.
“Good, boy,” I tell him, the wind whipping past my face. “You’re a damn good dog.”
One glance over my shoulder and I see the afflicted, crying out and waving their arms as they realize their prey is long gone.
The end.
(BOOK TWO)
Copyright © 2017 by Harmon Cooper
Copyright © 2017 Boycott Books
Cover by MIBL Art Studios
Setting by Dan at covermint.design
Edited by Allison Wright (www.wrightediting.com)
Audiobook narrated by Jeff Hays and Annie Ellicott (www.jeffhaysnarrates.com)
Read by you
www.harmoncooper.com
[email protected]
Twitter: @_HarmonCooper
All rights reserved. All rights preserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BOOK TWO: The Drachma Killers
A world rid of evil is a world rid of good. All we can hope to do is combat evil and spread good, as good is much harder to cultivate than evil, and good dies much more quickly than its counterpart.
– Olivas, the Unigaean poet and jeweler
Chapter One: A Biting Storm
The waves are rough and the breeze that sweeps past cools my face. My Splintered Sword across my back, Wolf in the center of our raft with his head tucked between his paws, Sam Raid resting beside the Tagvornin beast – I’m as happy as I’ve been in ages.
A farmer’s hat covers Sam’s face. Out of her armor now, she looks thin and fit. She rests with her legs crossed, her skin glistening in the sun as she drums her fingers along the deck of the raft.
The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure Page 20
