Death's Mantle: A Dark Fantasy GameLit Novel

by Harmon Cooper

  “Thanks,” Lucian said, taking the black notebook and pocketing it. He returned his focus to the information on his pane of vision.

  “I’ve seen other, younger Deaths use a system similar to yours,” Old Death said with a nod. “To be honest, you can easily tell how old a Death is by the way they access the Mark System.”

  “I’d prefer to view it this way, over my pane of vision.”

  “View it whichever way you’d like. You can also just go to a place and float around until you find something. This is great if you feel like wandering. The desire to wander is something that has never left me.”

  Lucian mentally selected ‘Choose your mark by location’ and a myriad of locations appeared before him. He scrolled down to America, then Massachusetts, then Salem.

  A list of names took shape before Lucian.

  “It is kind of like a video game,” he said as he cycled through some of the names, looking for anyone he knew.

  “The rest should be self-explanatory. You select a mark, and then you go. Or like I said, you just go and find your mark once you arrive.”

  “How do I know how powerful these parasites are?”

  “Unfortunately, the system doesn’t tell you that. You always have the chance of leaving before you attack, which is something I’d suggest doing. You don’t want to lose to a parasite. You should also leave if another Death has already claimed the parasite. They can be quite competitive, these Deaths.”

  “They’d actually fight me over one?” Lucian asked as his margarita refilled, not feeling at all drunk.

  “Correct. And the other thing, and maybe one reason why they are so competitive, is that we get stronger with each parasite we slay. This is one reason why I’ve become so weak. I haven’t gone out to satisfy my soul’s craving in weeks.”

  “And you can die this way?” Lucian asked.

  “I suppose, but it would take a while. One way to look at it would be like this: injuresouls can kill you; parasites can infect you and leave you more susceptible to injuresouls killing you; Life can kill you or leave you vulnerable to injuresouls; or you can simply stop hunting and watch your power diminish to the point that you are now an easy target.”

  Lucian swiped the menu away and finished his margarita. “I should probably go somewhere,” he said as his glass filled again. “I need some time to think about this.”

  Old Death stuck his hand out of the sleeve of his robe, pressing his thumb and pinky finger together.

  “Think of the location, and make this gesture to instantly teleport somewhere.” He pressed his thumb and his pinky finger together a second time. “If you encounter anything, I suggest you return here by making the same gesture. But who am I to stop you from exploring? You’ll find your own way, or die, as is the nature of Death.”

  Chapter Four: Angel in the Backyard

  Lucian pressed his pinky and thumb together and appeared in his brother’s backyard, right next to a white storage shed, some of the paint peeling from its exterior.

  There was no joy on Lucian’s face when he looked through the window and saw Connor sitting at the dining room table and sobbing.

  Lucian didn’t know what day it was, nor how long he’d been dead, but as he entered the home, he did notice one thing: no one saw him standing there.

  Not his older brother, not his soon-to-be wife Samantha, not their toddler, Jennifer.

  Lucian stood just a few feet away from Connor and the rest of his family, unable to do anything to get their attention.

  That didn’t stop him from trying.

  He started off subtly at first, his hand passing through the table, and from there through his brother’s shoulder. He made a face at their young daughter, Jennifer.

  Nothing.

  The only thing that even halfway seemed to notice him was his brother’s cat, Tuck, who was perched on the countertop, watching Lucian with curiosity in his eyes.

  So Lucian tried even harder, punching through the glass, equipping his shotgun and shooting at the ceiling.

  Not a single thing he did got their attention, nor did it do any real damage to the place. It was as if he was on a different plane of existence, one exactly like the plane he could see yet with no tangibility, no sign whatsoever that he had raged out.

  The word “frustration” did little to describe how Lucian felt not being able to communicate with his family.

  They were right fucking there. He could literally reach out and touch his brother’s face, all to no avail.

  So he gave up.

  Rather than try to get his brother’s attention, Lucian floated just a foot above the ground, listening to what they were saying.

  Connor wiped his face with his arm. “I’m sorry, Sam, this week has just been so hard.”

  Young Jennifer looked from her mother to her father, tears in her eyes as well.

  “It’s not your fault,” Samantha told him. “You know as well as I do that there was nothing you could have done. Lucian died in his living room, and he went rather peacefully, at least according to the doctor. It wasn’t a long death; he didn’t struggle. He just died. I think... I mean, there’s no way of really knowing, but the doctor said he basically died in his sleep, or at least, he was playing video games and simply faded away. And I think that’s true. God is watching over us, and He knows how much pain your brother was in. He’s in a better place now.”

  Lucian noticed something at that moment, something hovering around his brother’s shoulders. It was clear, and as he stared at it...

  There was a flash in the backyard.

  As his brother continued to grieve, Lucian turned towards the flash, spotting a woman in white armor with hints of gold. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, and a blue strip of paint was smeared over her eyes, almost like she was wearing a mask.

  An angel.

  A sense of unease spread over Lucian as the woman locked eyes with him.

  Even though he knew his family couldn’t see them, he still gave them the courtesy of floating through the back door quietly, where he stood on the stoop, looking down at the woman.

  He saw her throat quiver; the woman quickly got hold of herself as she unsheathed a golden sword, flourishing her blade and aiming it at him.

  “I take it that you are Life?” Lucian asked, his voice barely audible. “An angel?”

  As he took her in just a little more, he noticed her knuckles tighten on the hilt of her blade.

  “I’m not here to fight you,” Lucian said to the woman. “I’m not here to do them any harm. I just wanted to see them again.” His voice was tinged with emotion; he found himself choking back a sob as he said his next words. “So, whatever it is you’re thinking about me, it’s not true. I would never do anything to harm them; I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  A halo of light formed around the woman’s head as she stared curiously at Lucian, not quite sure what to make of him.

  “You are Progeny of Darkness, my mortal enemy,” she finally said. “You can kill me, and I can kill you.”

  “So in a way, I still win.”

  “You still win?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

  “You were suggesting that we can kill each other. Either way, I still win. Death always wins.” Lucian narrowed his eyes on the heavenly being. “I’ve found that out the hard way.”

  The woman he knew only as Life started to form more armor. It too grew from her skin, encompassing her arms and legs, and forming a sharp, golden mask over her face.

  “I’m not looking for a fight,” Lucian said.

  “What is it you want to say then?” she asked as she glared him down. “Speak, Death.”

  “How long have you been Life?” Lucian asked her.

  “The answer to that question doesn’t concern you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I have so many questions,” Lucian said, lifting his hands, “but I’m more than happy to go.”

  “You won’t be
going anywhere.”

  A bolt of light cut Lucian off his feet, sending him backward into the wall. He cracked his head against the side paneling and fell to the ground, directly next to the stoop.

  Lucian pressed his pinky finger and thumb together, disappearing before the woman could land her next attack.

  Chapter Five: Soul Points

  Lucian appeared in Old Death’s strange high-rise apartment. His predecessor sat on his sofa now, asleep, an old book across his chest. He awoke almost immediately, something igniting behind his eyes. The elderly man relaxed some, happy to see a familiar face.

  “An angel was there,” Lucian said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “In the backyard, in my brother’s backyard. I saw her. She would have attacked me. She was going to…”

  “You encountered Life,” Old Death said on the tail end of a yawn. “I wouldn’t expect you to encounter one on your first trip alone, but I also wouldn’t have expected you to take out those injuresouls. You’re quite unique, my boy, you know that?”

  “What was she doing there?” Lucian asked, coming around the couch and standing before the elderly man, an intense look on his face.

  “Someone probably prayed, and she was in the area,” he huffed. “These things happen.”

  “Someone prayed?” Lucian asked, raising an eyebrow at the old man.

  “That’s usually when angels appear,” said Old Death.

  “That can’t be the case…”

  Lucian remembered Samantha praying in his hospital room, his mom inviting him to Mass, always letting him know that God was there for him, that the mystery man in the sky would always be there for him in the end.

  “Life doesn’t generally come when people pray, but newer angels can be a little…” Old Death bit his lip. “What would be a good word to describe them?”

  “Beautiful?”

  “Ha! You really are following in my footsteps, aren’t you?” his predecessor asked with another laugh. “No, not beautiful, well, of course beautiful, but eager. That’s the word I was looking for, eager. New angels are generally eager to help, feeling as if they can do something. But in the end, they cannot.”

  “Are they the same as me?” Lucian asked.

  “Are you asking if Life is the same as Death?” The old man considered this for a moment. “Actually, it’s not a bad question. And yes, they are similar. They won’t tell you this, but they feed off hope. The same way we feed off death, if you consider the parasites ‘death.’ It truly is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

  Lucian thought about what Old Death had just told him. Even if it was his job to go after these parasites that prolonged people’s lives, Death still thrived off death, absorbing these parasites prolonged Death’s life.

  And it made sense that Life fed off hope, which Lucian assumed meant that hope prolonged their lives.

  “I have so many questions,” he said, sitting down.

  “I’m sure you do,” Old Death said, looking at his hand. He showed Lucian his fingers. They were starting to shrivel up, as if he had suspended them underwater for a long period of time.

  “What’s happening to you?”

  “I’m dying,” Old Death said, a satisfied grin on his face. “Isn’t it brilliant? Isn’t it beautiful? It will still take a little while for it to happen, and that’s if I don’t feel impulsive and go out for a hunt, but it’s happening.”

  “Couldn’t you have died years ago?” Lucian asked. “If all you had to do was stop going after parasites, couldn’t you just die?”

  “I suppose I could have, but like any creature, I have an instinct for self-preservation. And I always had the desire to pass on my mantle. I don’t know why, but it was passed to me, and I figured I should pass it on before I signed off for good. Listen, there are a lot of things to discuss, and you should begin your own hunt soon. That said, it is equally important to rest,” he said with a drawn out yawn.

  “I have to rest?” Lucian asked skeptically.

  “It helps for recharging purposes. The parasites you kill give you power, and that power compounds, but it can also be depleted by too much action. So rest. Funny to think of the grim reaper taking a nap, but who doesn’t enjoy a nap? Most importantly, it allows me to think, to dream.”

  “You can still dream in this state?”

  “The most glorious dreams,” he said, his eyes going wide. “Surreal and vivid dreams in which you are alive, which you can control. This is maybe the best part about being Death, at least later on. I may have already mentioned this, but I wouldn’t get too comfortable with dreaming. And you don’t want to die, do you?”

  “I’m already dead.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Old Death said. A door popped open on the other side of the room. “Eventually, this place will be yours and you can do whatever you’d like with it. Of course, you don’t have to stay here, but it is a place where no one can get you. For now, you can have the guest wing I’ve prepared. Do what you like with it. Goodnight.”

  And with that, Old Death closed his eyes and started to snore.

  “Seriously?” Lucian asked, looking down at his predecessor.

  When Death didn’t wake, Lucian pulled a beer out of thin air and popped the top off, the cap disappearing before it hit the ground.

  He had already realized drinking alcohol had no effect on them, but it gave him something to hold, something nice and cold, and as he walked to the room offered to him, he took a sip of his beer.

  He entered the room to find a king-sized bed on a wooden frame with demon faces carved into it.

  “First thing to change,” Lucian said, and as he thought this, the bed frame started to morph into something made of black metal with a backboard of cushioned black leather, sleek and modern.

  The view from his balcony was nice, and he still wondered what the city was outside his window, but he also didn’t feel like exploring.

  There was still work to be done in the space.

  Lucian removed a bookshelf and added a couch and a side table. As soon as he thought about needing more room for the couch, the space began to expand, accommodating his wish.

  With a wave of his hand, he turned the couch black, going with the overall theme of the room. He then felt foolish for doing something so cliché considering that he was Death, and the couch instantly became red.

  The wood floor started to shine, and as Lucian moved toward his bed, the sheets cycled through several colors until they settled on a red that matched the couch.

  “So, it looks like it’s red for today,” he said, an idea coming to him.

  Lucian looked at a space in front of the bed, and a television stand appeared with an absolutely enormous TV on top. He suddenly had all the gaming machines that he wanted beneath it. Once a remote appeared in his hand, he turned the TV on and started flipping through the stations.

  “Hell yes,” Lucian said to himself as he cycled through a streaming service until he got to one of the shows that he liked to watch called Infinite Dirt. The last season had ended on a cliffhanger, and the new season wasn’t out yet.

  But everything else was there, and once he checked a few more stations, Lucian turned his palm around, a video game controller taking shape.

  He pressed the button on it that powered up the system, and the trap-style Zero Enigma intro music started playing. Lucian even had his save record, and as soon as he pressed his finger on the X button, the game loaded up.

  For a moment, he just ran around an abandoned altar in the northwest section of the map, slaying tiny demons and getting Soul Points. Eventually he stopped, and decided to visit a village, hoping to increase the level of some of his stealth skills, and do some good old-fashioned looting.

  Once Lucian entered the village he turned to the house on the left, approaching the door. The cut screen let him know that he was now attempting to pick a lock, and sure enough, one of the passing guards saw him.

  Launching into action, Lucian cast a fireball at the guard, char
ging up and casting another before switching to his enchanted blade.

  More guards came running as his avatar wreaked havoc, the townspeople losing their minds, Lucian watching it all and laughing until the guards overwhelmed him.

  He paused the game and returned his focus to the balcony in his room, the controller disappearing immediately after he placed it on his bed.

  Lucian definitely planned to play some video games later, and possibly catch up on a few of his favorite shows, but first, he wanted to know a little bit more about this power he’d been given.

  He knew that he needed to develop a system that would allow him to eventually be better than Old Death.

  This wasn’t a competition, but Old Death almost had his ass handed to him, and if Lucian was going to take this role, he needed to level up.

  Lucian got off the bed and slowly opened the balcony door. He stared out at the alien city for a moment, at all the lights glistening in the distance, the vehicles moving through the air.

  It looked like a city on another planet, but at the same time, the place looked ephemeral, glossy.

  Rather than stare out at the city, or perhaps go down and see what kind of trouble he could get into, Lucian closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about how a system for monitoring his powers could work.

  He would have to get some more details at some point, but from what Old Death had told him, he gained power by killing these parasites.

  The weapons he created, from the shotgun to the demon-hilted sword that he could readily call to him, were also tied to the power that he absorbed.

  This made Lucian wonder if the weapons he’d already created were possibly easier for him to recall, taking less…

  “Soul Points,” he whispered.

  True, they were technically ‘Parasite Points,’ but the abbreviation for parasite points would be ‘PP.’ which Lucian didn’t really like.

  So, SP.

  That made sense.

  “Soul Points,” he said again, and as he uttered the words, letters began to take shape in front of him.