Glitch Book Three

by Victor Deckard

  Once it was within biting range, the creature snapped at my right ankle, a new wave of searing pain rolling through my wounded leg. Gnashing my teeth, I fired my handguns, bullets catching the mutant in its body. Soundlessly, the mutant whipped around and tore off. If it was actually a player, I wasn’t eager to leave it alone. I fired away at the fleeing mutant, puffs of crimson bursting from its body. Finally, the critter was dead.

  I had less than half HP left. I wonder if there was a point in using a stimulator. Most players had already died and turned into mutants. Even if I healed my wound up, I wouldn’t be able to hold out for the remaining fifty minutes.

  I had barely reloaded my pistols when another player-critter burst from the nearby bushes, knocking me to the hard earth and sinking its teeth into my left thigh. My pistol barked and half its body exploded as bullets tore into pus-oozed flesh. My character had about five percent of HP left now.

  As I jumped to my feet, wincing at a stab of pain from my leg, a mini-mantis swept overhead, ejecting a glob of acid at me. It finished me off almost instantly. Everything went dark.

  I didn’t revive. Instead I saw fifteen or so pictures of nasty mutants lined up before my eyes. Aside from the very first one, they were gray-colored. When I fixed my gaze on the first monster, a piece of info appeared.

  > Name: Jumper

  > Description: Weak quadruped mutant. It’s armed only with sharp claws and teeth. While Jumper has a small amount of HP and deals little damage, it’s pretty nimble and fast. Jumper’s special ability is jumping which allows it to cover a few feet in one jump.

  > HP: 350

  > Damage: 25

  > Movement speed: 125

  > Special ability: Jumping

  > Cooldown of the special ability: 10

  > (Do you want to pick this creature: Yes/No)

  I shifted my gaze to the mutant next to the first one. A message popped up in my HUD.

  > It’s locked! To unlock this creature you need to gain 100 more points!

  So killing players would give me points I could spend on creatures. Well, okay. I picked the first mutant, Jumper, and appeared in the park.

  Looking around, I got aware that I acquired the ability to see the players, no matter how far they were. The survivors gave off red light that could be clearly seen even through inanimate objects. The mutant players were also visible, their bodies emitting greenish light.

  I started for a nearby group of five or so players. It struck me as amazing that I had a feel for the mutant as if I’d been a quadruped creature all my life.

  A quick glance at the log told me that there were only five survived players. They all stuck together to ratchet up their chances of survival.

  Finally, I got pretty close to the group. One of the players spotted me and brought his assault rifle to bear. The slugs stitched a bloody patchwork across my body. Searing pain shot through me. I even cussed, but my mutant character uttered just an incomprehensible yelp. The player kept holding the trigger in, unleashing a lethal barrage.

  I whipped around and took off. A few more rounds burrowed into my body and everything went dark. This creature was too weak. No doubt about that. Just a few hits and it had gone tits up.

  After picking the jumper again, I headed for the group of the players. I slowed down to a brisk jog as I got close to them. They didn’t notice me yet.

  The players were bunched together in the middle of a clearing surrounded by dense undergrowth. I hid myself in a tangle of bushes and crouched while gauging the distance between the players and myself. I estimated it at three to five yards.

  There was an empty space between the group and the bushes. I couldn’t get any closer to the players without leaving the cover of the bushes. I wondered if I could cover the distance of three or so yards, which separated me from the nearest player, in one jump. I had to take this chance, for I didn’t have much choice.

  I bent my knees and then launched my body up and forward. As it turned out Jumper hadn’t gotten its name for nothing. I easily covered the distance to the nearest player and landed on top of him, knocking the guy to the ground. After that, I sunk my teeth into his shoulder, the taste of blood in my mouth.

  The other players opened up on me and I died again.

  After reviving, raced toward the group once more. A message popped up before my eyes.

  > +10 points for assistance in killing!

  I glanced at the log. There were only four players alive and kicking now. Guessed that player I’d bitten at had been finished off by another mutant player.

  I got to the group and noticed some other mutant players getting ready to engage the survivors. We attacked the players simultaneously, forcing them to break up and run in different directions.

  I snapped at the ankle of one player, my tapered teeth tearing through leather armor and lodging themselves into the flesh. The guy must’ve had few health points left since my bite turned out to be mortal. As the player collapsed, dead, I saw a message flash before my eyes.

  > +50 points for the kill!

  Two down, three to go. I looked around. One player was sprawled on the hard earth, being ripped to pieces by two mutant players. Another player was being chased down by three more mutants, about to get whacked as well.

  I spotted the third player, a girl, nearby, blasting away at non-player mutants, and dashed toward her. She noticed me out of the corner of her eye and, after recognizing me as a mutant player, whirled around to bring her machine gun to bear on me. The knuckle of her index finger turned white as the girl squeezed the trigger hard, the weapon chattering, bullets ripping a path through the hard earth toward me. I lurched from side to side, trying to be a difficult target.

  The girl ran out of ammo and began hastily reloading her weapon. I crouched and jumped, slamming the player down. The girl convulsed as I buried my teeth into her neck. Suddenly she went still and then everything went dark.

  After a moment, a message appeared in my vision.

  > The Outbreak is over! All players got killed and turned into mutants! The group lasted for 13 minutes and 47 seconds.

  > (Where do you want to revive: In the current location/In a random Resurrection Pod)

  Although I was well aware that Park of Despair was no longer a safe zone, I decided to push the first button anyway, for I wasn’t all that keen on reviving at some totally random place of the location.

  Immediately after revving, I found out that I was back to my old human self again.

  Thrumming reached my ears from behind. I whipped around to see a double rotor battle drone flying through the air my way. There were four or so smaller drones behind the leading one, all of them heading in my direction. The low thrumming turned into an almost deafening whir as the robots got closer.

  Lagging behind all the choppers, a level 14 player named Sullivan bore down on me, a huge triple-barreled shotgun clutched in his hands.

  The first drone was almost on top of me already. I had barely activated Shield as it fired a salvo, the heavy slugs slamming against the power dome. The other drones reached the first one’s side, adding to the onslaught aimed at my Shield.

  The power dome didn’t last long. Once it was destroyed, I employed the Twins psi-power. Three counterparts of mine materialized at my side. Sullivan fired at one of them, wrongly taking it for a real player. The twin instantly disappeared, having taken a load of buckshot to its chest.

  I activated Acceleration. All my counterparts got their movement speed increased as well. As I attacked Sullivan, I watched my counterparts. They did really well, acting like an actual player. It was really hard for him to tell us apart.

  On the flip side, they had little health and died too quickly. By the time I disposed of all the drones, Sullivan took care of my counterparts. We were one on one now.

  While the player held a higher level and had a much more powerful weapon than me, I seemed to be a more experienced player and my well thought-out
tactic yielded really well. So it was a pretty even fight.

  A few shots the player fired found its mark, the pellets penetrating my flesh and causing my wounded body to throb painfully.

  After some time, Sullivan released his shotgun and it thudded as it landed. Then the player held his hand aloft and shouted, “Alright, I give up! Just don’t kill me, okay?”

  I checked my UI. Although I won, my HP had reduced by more than fifty percent. It was too bad given I had no stimulators left.

  “Here, take my gun if you like,” Sullivan offered.

  I glanced at the weapon. It was “green” and its damage was quite impressive. Still, it was of no use to me, what with me being a warlock.

  “Don’t need it,” I shook my head. “Warlocks can’t use such a weapon.”

  “What can I give you then?”

  As things turned out the player had either no stimulators or vigors. He had only a few pieces of cooked meat. I had enough food stored in my bag, so I didn’t take the meat he offered.

  A thought crossed my mind that Sullivan might be just putting on. Perhaps he had something useful in his bag but wasn’t eager to give it to me. I could’ve finished him off and taken all the loot.

  Still, having my nickname turned red didn’t thrill me at all. I stuck in this video game and it seemed that I couldn’t get out of here on my own. I had to find someone who would be willing to lend me a hand. But if my nickname was red, no player would be eager to help me out.

  So I didn’t finish Sullivan off. Yet I noticed the way the player glared at me. He was really pissed for having been defeated by me. He sure as heck wanted to get even. He might shoot me in the back once I turned around.

  This was why I made him give me all his ammo. After that, I walked off ignoring an angry expression that appeared on Sullivan’s face.

  I was not a few yards away when a rumble of rotors beating the air reached me from behind. Glancing back, I saw two drones flying my way. As for Sullivan, he was a dozen yards off. Having no ammo made him unwilling to get close to me, so he’d just had his robots attack me.

  That guy just couldn’t reconcile himself to the defeat. He asked for trouble. Although I’d spared him from killing to begin with, now I decided to whack the player when I dealt with his drones.

  One of the flying robots was much bigger, heavier, and was armed with a dangerous-looking turret. The second drone was pretty small, the size of a fist, and seemingly had no weapons whatsoever. I decided to deal with the bigger one first, for it posed much more of a nuisance.

  As I fired away at the robot, the smaller drone got within a yard or so of me and just hovered in the air. I paid it no mind since it looked absolutely harmless. It was a mistake.

  The smaller drone shot a beam of bluish light in my direction and I suddenly found myself unable to move. My avatar was completely petrified. The slow bigger robot finally got within firing range and opened up. The heavy slugs tore through the body of my character, racking it from head to toe.

  In addition to my disability to move, I couldn’t employ my psi-powers. In my HUD was an icon of a debuff––in other words, a negative effect––placed on my character. I wouldn’t be able to move until the effect wore off. Still, my HP depleted at such a rate it was obvious that I’d get whacked well before the debuff vanished.

  Before everything went dark, I caught a glimpse of Sullivan strolling my way with a shit-eating grin on his face, ready to pick up the loot.

  I revived in a Resurrection Pod, having either no armor or weapon. My level dropped down from 10 to 9. Dammit! Slamming the door open, I climbed out and checked the map. Park of Despair wasn’t very far away. After activating Acceleration, I tore off.

  When reached the park, I took care to traverse it carefully so that not to attract any attention. Dry twigs snapped under my soles from time to time, but aside from that, my character produced no noise.

  Eventually, I found the body of my previous character. It was buck naked. Sullivan had stripped it of all armor and taken my weapon. There was only the bag lying next to the body.

  Trying not to raise false hopes, I picked the bag up and delved inside. It was totally empty. What upset me the most, however, was that the bastard had found the key to my car. That was to say, to Christine’s car.

  Sure, he had no idea as to where the vehicle was and might never find it, but without the key, I could no longer make use of the car.

  In the distance, the muted crackle of gunfire split the morning air and wrenched me back to reality. I let the bag fall and looked around. No one was in the immediate vicinity. It wasn’t me who was being fired at. Still, I’d better get out of the park ASAP.

  Luckily, I met no player on my way out of the park. After consulting the map, I headed for the nearest vending machine, which was inside a police station, sticking to the sidewalk and the buildings on my right in order to jump under cover if the need arose.

  Taking a right at an intersection, I stopped dead in my tracks. A player sauntered out of one house without noticing me. His stats popped up in my HUD.

  > Name: Cooper

  > Clan: The Desert Wanderers

  > Level: 67

  His nickname was painted red. He was a PK. I dived into the nearby doorway. It was a spacious but totally empty room. And it had only one door, through which I’d gotten inside.

  I wasn’t sure about my next move. What to do? Dash outside? Or stay inside?

  I waited, peering out the nearest window, my ears straining. As it turned out, the decision was taken from my hands.

  “You there,” Someone shouted from the street. “I saw you. Get out!”

  He was addressing me, for sure. Except for Cooper and me, there had been no one in the street a minute before.

  “You can leave the building, buddy,” The player said. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  I wasn’t going to buy it. The color of his nickname gave the player away.

  Footsteps pounded on the sidewalk. The pounding was rising in volume. The player was approaching. If I just sat on my ass, the player would block the only way out once he appeared in the doorway.

  I drew a long breath in, activated the Acceleration, and leaped outside.

  Chapter three

  As soon as I was clear of the building, I bumped into the player who had just approached the door. Losing my balance, I found myself falling backward and landing straight on my buttocks.

  The player took a step forward, towering above me.

  It was clear that he played as a Soldier. An assault rifle with a scope was slung over his left shoulder. The player was attired in a desert camouflage heavy armor.

  It was obvious that he’d come here from another location. I wondered what had brought a level 60+ player to the location designed for novices.

  Leaning over at the waist and giving me a friendly smile, Cooper outstretched his right hand.

  “Don’t freak out, buddy,” He uttered. “Like I told you, I ain’t gonna hurt you or something.”

  I hesitated for a moment, then let the player pull me to my feet. Just in case, I took a step backward.

  The player looked me over and inquired, “Got killed recently? You’d better get used to it. This game’s quite harsh, as it is.”

  I muttered something inaudible in reply, still on full alert and ready to take off if needed.

  “Which class do you play?” He wanted to know.

  “Warlock.”

  “Got it. Wait a second.”

  Cooper unslung his bag and dug into it. At first, I thought he went for a gun and took another step backward. As I did so, I got aware that Acceleration wore off already.

  As I reflected on whether I should re-activate it, Cooper removed something from his bag and held it out for me to take.

  “Here,” He said. “It’s a chitin armor set matching your level. You can take it if you’d like.”

  “Why?” I asked dumbfoundingly. It weirded me
out that the player wanted to give me the armor. Before now, most players tried to whack me and take my stuff in this game.

  “I wandered aimlessly around the city for a spell, killing mobs,” Cooper elaborated. “And got this threads. As you can guess, it’s of no use to me. So you can take it.”

  I fixed my gaze on the armor, which consisted of a jacket, a pair of pants, and a pair of boots. Its stats appeared in my HUD. Below it was a line.

  > (Do you want to put on the item: Yes/No)

  I pushed the “Yes” button. My character instantly got dressed in the armor.

  “I got a weapon too,” Cooper stated, delved into his bag once more, and produced a level 5 “green” pistol in a drop leg holster.

  “I know it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing, right?” The player’s lips curled upward in a grin.

  I strapped the holster around my right thigh and attached it to the belt.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A silence hung in the air. I eyed the player’s nickname. It wasn’t dark red but rather light scarlet. He wasn’t a hard-core PK, yet he did kill some players, that was for sure. So why would a PK be willing to help me out?

  I shook my doubts off. Yes, Cooper was a PK. So what? It was just a game. Even if Cooper wasted some player, it didn’t necessarily mean that he was a wicked, malevolent person who never helped others.

  “Thanks again,” I said to the player and began to turn, to walk off.

  Cooper spoke up again.

  “How long have you been playing the game?”

  “For a couple of days,” I replied as I stopped and looked at the player. “Why?”