Call of Carrethen: A LitRPG and GameLit novel (Wellspring Book 1)

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Call of Carrethen: A LitRPG and GameLit novel (Wellspring Book 1) Page 33

by Stephen Roark


  “D!” I shouted as I raised up and threw the Binding Stone in her direction. The Ripper turned as the item sailed through the air past him. D caught it and I saw the look of shock come over her face as she realized what it was.

  “Do it!” I shouted. “Do it now!”

  D hesitated.

  “But, Jack—”

  The Ripper turned towards her. She had seconds, less maybe, before he froze her, and all was lost.

  “There’s no time! You have to!” I screamed, letting my emotions pour out of me as I thought about all the dead players that had fallen, and all the others that would meet the same fate if D didn’t act. “It’s the only way!”

  Our eyes met, and I felt something between us. Maybe it was new, or maybe it had always been there. A bond, deep and unspoken, one that only such good friends can share. Carrethen had brought us closer no doubt, but somehow, I knew, I’d always known, that D would always be there for me, and I for her.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said softly, then stretched her arm out towards me and activated the item.

  77

  Countdown to Death

  “The Wellspring device projects your consciousness into this world. When you log out, your consciousness is returned to your body. But from now on, when you die in Carrethen, your consciousness will not return, but will be forever lost in the electronic void.”

  The Ripper’s words. I would never forget them.

  The Electronic Void. What did it mean?

  Was it a place? Was it death? Would Baltos be there? Would Gehman?

  Or was I going anywhere at all?

  “So, I guess technically you don’t die,” he’d said. “Brain dead would be more accurate.”

  It was impossible to envision or imagine being brain dead. Would I be aware of anything at all? What would happen when my body finally gave out and how long would that be?

  I was scared. Of course I was. It would be a lie to say otherwise, but I knew it was the only option, and so did D. And if I knew anything, I knew I could count on D to do what needed to be done. She always did.

  A green light pulsed from D’s hand as she used the Sacrificial Stone of Binding I’d thrown to her. If the item description was right, my character would be erased, and my levels and experience would be granted to her. She’d max out completely, giving her a chance to fight The Ripper and actually win.

  But there was more—there had to be. D had suggested that the stone might have been part of an older version of the game, the Alpha, a developer tool. If that were true, the stone might have hidden abilities, privileges only granted to admins. D had a sixth sense about things like that, and I was praying she was right.

  The green light extended between us, linking our bodies at the chest. It was like a spotlight on both of our souls.

  “What the—?” The Ripper said with confusion. He waved his hand at the beam, trying to use his powers to make it disappear, but the light persisted. In fact, it grew.

  More colors appeared, swirling like the aurora borealis as the light between us swelled larger and enveloped both of our bodies.

  “What—what is that!?” The Ripper stammered. I opened my character sheet and watched as my levels began ticking down.

  85… 84… 83…

  It’s working!

  The Ripper must have inspected both of us and seen what was happening and began to panic.

  “No… what—what is that!?”

  61… 59… 58…

  The transfer was speeding up. The level-ups kept coming, and D’s character model was surrounded by sprites and color spraying everywhere as she gained all of my levels.

  44… 43… 42…

  I saw Gehman’s face in front of me as he died to Chaucey’s fire arrow.

  41… 30… 39…

  I saw Shorros behind me as the Ilizak swarm overwhelmed him…

  38… 37… 36…

  I saw the Mercenaries, pulled out of existence by a wave of The Ripper’s hand.

  33… 32… 31…

  I saw Chaucey die to my blade. I saw my friends die around me.

  28… 27… 26…

  I began to prepare myself for the inevitable. My character was going to be destroyed, which meant I was going to be destroyed. The transfer wasn’t going to pause at level 1, and there was no turning back now.

  I’m ready… I thought as I smiled at D as my experience poured into her.

  22… 20… 19… 18… 17…

  I thought of all the games we’d played together, the time spent chatting about quests, items, and PvP.

  I thought back to just how jealous I’d been that D got the Beta to Call of Carrethen, and how terrible I’d been when I first arrived. It seemed so funny looking back that a girl had to teach me how to swing a sword.

  “You really going to let this thing kill you, Jack? He’s only level 5.”

  I couldn’t help but smile as I heard her words in my mind. I’d “died” back then, but that’s when Call of Carrethen was just a game. This time, I wouldn’t be sucked into portal space and return to Mountain Retreat. I’d be taken somewhere else, and I didn’t know where that would be.

  12… 11… 10…

  The expression on D’s face was too much for me to handle. I knew if she had been able to cry, she would have been bawling, and I had never seen that level of vulnerability from her before—not ever.

  5… 4… 3…

  “Goodbye, D,” I said as I braced myself for whatever happened next.

  “Goodbye, Jack!” D cried out as her character exploded with color.

  2… 1…

  And then… darkness.

  78

  Jane

  My heart shattered into a million tiny little pieces as Jack’s body collapsed to the ground in front of me. I knew what using the item would mean for him, and I thought I’d been emotionally prepared, but I wasn’t. I’d been lying to myself.

  As his body fell lifelessly into the snow, the pain in my chest was almost too much to bear.

  Let me cry, damn it!

  My best friend of two years was lying dead in front of me, and my stalker was standing in front of me holding a flaming scimitar.

  “What the Hell was that!?” Norman roared. I heard the panic in his voice. It disgusted me. Everything about him was revolting. I’d known he was a creep, but I never thought he’d have been capable of doing something like what he’d done with Carrethen.

  “That was the end of you,” I hissed back as I pulled up my character sheet. I’d expected to see 126, as it was the max level in Call of Carrethen, but I was wrong, and what I saw absolutely floored me.

  Level 142.

  “Ha, I knew it!” I screeched as I stared at Norman with a new determination. It was an old Alpha developer system, and the developers had simply forgotten to take it out of the game. It must have been created before the level cap was ever implemented as well.

  I had 75 levels worth of unassigned experience just sitting there waiting to be spent. I could do anything—be anything.

  “What was that!?” Norman gasped as he saw my level. “142!? That’s—that’s just not possible!”

  I stepped towards him. He moved out of the way as though my very presence terrified him. But I wasn’t worried about him just yet.

  I knelt at Jack’s corpse lying face down in the snow. Somehow it felt wrong to leave him there like that. Even if it was just a game model, it was the face I had grown to know him by for the last few months.

  Flipping him over onto his back, I felt a pang in my chest as his lifeless eyes looked up at mine. He’d sacrificed himself for me, when all of this—all of it was because of me. Maybe if I’d handled Norman better none of this would have happened.

  His sword lay beside him and I picked it up and twisted it around in my hand. I could feel Norman’s eyes on me as he waited to see what I was going to do. The power dynamic had shifted. He wasn’t sure of himself anymore. In fact, he was scared, because he was, like all creeps, a coward.
>
  It seemed like the right thing to do, so I opened my character sheet and dumped all my experience into Sword, Strength, and Quickness. I didn’t even bother touching my health pool. I was a glass cannon, and I was going to end things once and for all.

  “That sword supposed to scare me, Norman?” I asked him, eyeing his flaming scimitar that he held by his side. “Or those big red clouds above us?”

  He took a step back as I approached him, wielding my fallen friend’s sword. Just because I was an archer didn’t mean I couldn’t use a blade. And my stats were just insane now.

  My Strength was 350. My Quickness was 325, and my Sword was a whopping 568. It didn’t even seem possible.

  “Jane… stop,” Norman pleaded as I stepped towards him, a burning hole in my chest where my heart had been.

  “No,” I replied simply, shaking my head. “It’s time for you to pay for what you’ve done.”

  I almost couldn’t believe it when I swung Jack’s sword. My Quickness was so high that my movements were almost a blur. The blow struck Norman in the chest and cleaved off a substantial chunk of his health.

  Norman leapt backwards and held out his hand like he’d done countless times, in an attempt to freeze me in place, but this time—nothing happened.

  “What?!” he gasped.

  I laughed, pulling up my character sheet again. Below my name, written in red text was the word: admin.

  Game breaking, I thought with a smile. Jack had no idea what he’d found when he stumbled into that cave and discovered the Sparkling Arlan Stone. If only he was here to share this moment with me…

  I lashed out again with his sword, channeling Jack’s spirit into my attack. Norman raised his blade to block, but my strength was so high all it did was slam his own sword into him. More of his health vanished.

  Gritting my teeth, I poured everything I had into my attack.

  “Jane, wait!” he shouted as I drove Jack’s sword into his chest.

  His body shifted, and he blinked behind me, using some sort of teleportation skill. But I was anticipating such shenanigans and pulled a quick one-eighty and attacked.

  I hadn’t trained any of Jack’s sword skills and had to rely only on my pure skill to fight. But that was fine. I prided myself on my own abilities.

  Norman tried to block my next thrust, but I was simply too much for him. The attack hit him and knocked more health away. He was below half.

  “You sick bastard!” I shouted as I unleashed upon him. “My friend died because of you!”

  “No, stop!” he cried out. “Don’t do it!”

  He raised his sword again, but this time I slashed his arm and sent the blade spinning out of his hands.

  I jumped and snatched it out of the air as it fell towards the ground. Norman was a coward, and I knew I only had one chance to make my blow connect before he used his admin powers to teleport himself to safety. But one chance was all I needed.

  This is for you, Jack, I thought as I planted my feet in the snowy earth. Strength coursed through me as I swung the flaming sword towards Norman, the cruel ruler of Carrethen. Through his helm, I saw his eyes go wide and wondered just how he felt at the exact moment that his own blade connected with his chest.

  He began to cry out, but my strike was true, and his health vanished, silencing him forever.

  Then, in front of me, Norman, The Ripper, fell to the ground dead.

  79

  Deicide

  Norman’s death was anti-climactic in a way. Like all other players, his body simply collapsed lifelessly and lay at my feet. I looked down at him with so many emotions flowing through me that I didn’t know which one to focus on.

  But it was sadness that began to overwhelm me as I looked around. I was surrounded by bodies on all sides. Cavey, Xavier, Og, Baltos, and of course Jack.

  As I looked at them, something dinged softly in the corner of my vision. I opened my character sheet and discovered a tab I’d never seen before. I had a little gear icon like those normally used for settings. I clicked it.

  Administration it said. Beneath it, was a massive interface filled with controls of all kinds.

  I was now in control. The snow fell all around me as I gazed down at Jack’s lifeless body staring up at the sky. Everything was still.

  “Time to end this, Jack,” I said with a soft smile. “I’ll find you. Somehow, I’ll find you, so we can say goodbye.”

  Under the Administration Settings was a map of Carrethen. It included places I had never seen before, places only Norman knew of. Among them, off the Southeast coast, was a dark island of purple stone. I recognized it immediately. It was the plateau where The Ripper had gathered everyone for his first appearance.

  “How poetic,” I said to myself as I selected the island with two fingers and clicked.

  I’d expected to be pulled into portal space, but I guess admins didn’t have to deal with those pesky load times. In the blink of an eye I found myself standing in the same area where Norman had first appeared. Of course, then he’d been The Ripper, and Jack, me, and everybody else had been completely lost as to what was going on.

  Standing there again, this time completely alone, was a strange feeling. The plateau was unlike anywhere else in Carrethen I’d been. I knew it wasn’t somewhere the developers had meant for players to explore. Maybe it was still left over from Alpha? Or was it possible that Norman had actually created it himself?

  “Doubt it,” I scoffed, shaking my head. “Norman’s not that good.”

  Besides, Norman wasn’t a creative. He might have been a hacker and a skilled programmer, but that was oh. Oh, and a huge creep.

  I scrolled through the rest of the Administration page until I found the command I was looking for: Mass Teleportation.

  “That’s it,” I said as I hovered two fingers over it. “Well, Jack. Here we go.”

  I pressed it and waited.

  I knew that at that moment, everyone on the server, no matter what they were doing, was being pulled into portal space on their way here. Soon, the plateau would be like it was the last time I was there. Everyone would assume it was “The Ripper” of course.

  While I waited, I looked through the rest of the commands to find the one I needed.

  It appeared as though Norman had added his own set of commands at the bottom of the interface. That must have been where he had been hacking and he hadn’t bothered hiding them somewhere else, as he was the only admin on the server at the time and no one else would have access to them.

  Thunk!

  With one massive sound, the entire server population appeared around me.

  “Oh, God!” someone screamed.

  “It’s The Ripper again!”

  “What’s happening!?”

  “Stay calm!”

  “He’s going to kill us all!”

  A set of icons had been added to the Administration page—one of them was a crudely drawn stick figure with a set of wings. I pressed it and felt my body lift off the ground as though gravity had suddenly been turned off.

  “Look!” someone shouted.

  “Who’s that!?”

  “That’s not The Ripper!”

  As I rose into the sky, I found another icon that appeared to be a megaphone. I pressed it and cleared my throat. The sound reverberated out across the plateau, amplified a thousand times.

  “H—hello,” I stammered.

  So, this is what it’s like, Norman, I thought as the countless faces turned to me. I can see why you wanted this so badly.

  “As you may have figured out already,” I continued. “I am not The Ripper.”

  “Who is it?!” someone roared.

  “I can barely see him!”

  “Oh, that’s right,” I muttered, as I found another icon of a face and selected it. Instantly, a visage of my face filled the sky above me, as Norman’s had before. “My name is—Jane. The Ripper is dead.”

  Silence drifted over the crowd. I hadn’t expected that, but then I realized that
it was too big of a bombshell to simply drop on people—people who’d been living in a virtual prison under his control.

  “I know—I know it’s hard to believe,” I told them. “But this is not a trick. The Ripper is dead. And I killed him.”

  Slowly, people began to mutter beneath me. Their voices grew with confusion and questions. They shouted at me, asking how, why, when, and all manner of things.

  “The Ripper’s real name was Norman Meyers,” I said slowly. His name tasted like acid against my tongue. “He was—a very sick young man. But he is gone now, and this means we can all go home.”

  “You—you’re lying!” someone below me stammered.

  “I’m not,” I replied, wishing I was able to cry. I couldn’t help but wonder if my body in real life had tears running down its face.

  It’s face, I thought, as I realized just how much Carrethen had become my reality.

  “My best friend is dead also.” I struggled to get the words out. I could have just ended things right then and there, but I felt it was important to say something. It was important that people knew. I wanted to reveal the whole truth to them, but I just couldn’t do it.

  Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that all of it was my fault. Norman becoming The Ripper, his entire plan to trap us here and win me over, to best Jack and prove his manhood—I couldn’t help but feel like I was responsible.

  It’s not your fault! I tried to tell myself, but even if I was able to convince myself of that, would any of them believe me? Would they care that it was out of my hands? Or would I be forever blamed as the crazy girl who drove Norman Meyers to do what he did?

  No. You can’t tell them…

  “I know many of you have lost friends, loved ones, family members,” I continued, looking down at the masses who were all staring up at me, at my visage in the sky above. “But now it is time to return to the real world…”

  I thought about Jack’s body, lying in the snow where he had fallen—with Baltos, Xavier, Cavey, Og… even Bonecrusher.

  Dead. All of them. How many families would be overjoyed when Carrethen was shut down? And how many would despair?

  It was too much to think about.

  There was no more I could do. All that was left was to set things right the best I could.

 

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