Chapter 10
Ricardo patiently watched his minions fight the Asian college student, the one everyone called Kiddy for some reason. It gave him time to mutter a small prayer of thanks to God, whom Ricardo now knew to call Merciful Dolos.
When the tsunami had seemed to come out of nowhere, his last thoughts had been of regret, how he had not lived his life to the fullest. Through his three decades alive on God's glorious green Earth, Ricardo had been taught that seeking happiness was the key to a fulfilling life. So, being a diligent student, Ricardo had learned other languages, traveled the world, and even learned to surf.
In fact, he’d even gotten involved in criminal activities in his mid-twenties, mostly burglary. This had provided some mild amusement for a while. Unfortunately, he kept needing to do bigger and more dangerous jobs to feel...anything. The fact that the only thing he’d actually been caught doing was shoplifting, petty theft, had been ironic and lucky. Of course after that, he’d needed to leave the world he’d joined. He’d never missed that life after he’d quit, though.
None of those things--travel, self-improvement, or crime--had ever filled the emptiness inside him. He wasn't just empty the way a clear glass bottle could be empty after you drank all of its wine. No. Ricardo was hollow, his heart an abyss.
The first time he'd felt a brief respite of that hollow was when he'd cut the throat of one of the tourists he'd invited out after her hike. She’d been attracted to him, he could tell, and she’d come back to flirt with him after the other tourists had been long gone. He couldn’t remember her name anymore, but he could still recall that she’d come to Costa Rica on a journey to seek spiritual enlightenment. Instead, in God's, or should he say Dolos' plan, the woman's travel and death had given Ricardo his enlightenment.
She still held a special place in Ricardo's heart, maybe a kind of love, and had been the first of several corpses buried throughout the island. Each soul had completely freed him, if only for the briefest moment, a small respite from the abyss that plagued his heart. Some days, he had barely been able to keep the plastic smile on his face while doing his job as a guide.
On this particular trip, Ricardo had his eyes set on the pastor's little girl. There’d been something about her, something fragile. He’d wanted to add her to his collection.
But then the tsunami had come, and with it, the crushing reminder that he had nothing. Oh, the many souls that had graciously provided peace to Ricardo’s hollow heart had value, but he’d still lived an unfulfilled life. He was empty. It had all been God’s plan, though. Dolos had revealed his face, name, and power, mercifully granting Ricardo a second chance to redeem himself.
Now Ricardo knew he’d been fooled, that everything he’d learned about God as a child had been a lie. The churches on Earth, the Bible--they were all the work of the devil, meant to keep people from understanding the Truth, from finding The Path.
When the black fog had first leaked out of his skin, allowing him sight only he could see while in it, he had a revelation. A fulfilling life came not from seeking happiness. Instead, the giant maw of Ricardo's heart could only be filled with the joy of direction and purpose. And so, through Dolos' island, rules and portals, Ricardo had finally understood The Path.
He would be the one, the chosen messenger to be enlightened by this island, then leave it. He would kill in the name of Dolos! In fact, it wouldn't matter if Ricardo actually died while doing so because he knew that now he was on The Path. He still needed to get to the portal, though. The Path was clear on this. It was time for him to leave this island behind, this graveyard, in honor of Dolos. When he got back to Earth, the time of hiding would be over. He would bring justice openly to the entire world, and never feel empty again!
Two souls had perished in Dolos' name already. Ricardo was grateful now that they’d had a rebellious nature, crying out against fate, against Dolos...like children. With such thoughts on his mind, he turned to Javier and said pleasantly in Spanish, "Javvy, would you be so kind to fight if the old man with the machete joins in?"
Javier jittered nervously but gave him a nod. Ricardo wanted to roll his eyes. The other tour guide had his own demons, and had relied on Ricardo for some time to give him cocaine and other drugs. The arrangement had been a bit of a hassle over time, but having an accomplice had kept Ricardo invisible, operating in secret back on Earth. Things had changed now, though. Dolos had mercifully granted Javier immunity to all poisons, so right now, the man was going through withdrawals.
It was too bad Javvy didn’t recognize the wonderful miracle he’d been given. Hopefully he’d come around.
Ricardo's hand traced his two weapons, a bowie knife and a pistol. Now the pistol was out of ammunition, mainly because Ricardo had never liked firearms much, and hadn’t carried much with him. The way firearms took souls was too impersonal, not like the way a slow knife felt sliding across a breathing neck. Life was sacred, and therefore, deaths should be sacred, too.
It was all a moot point now, though. He’d emptied the gun on the gorilla monsters, devil spawn, trying to keep him from his mission.
He thought of how he’d used to believe in the devil. Now he knew the truth, the devil wasn’t some fallen angel; it was lack of direction. The universe, the emptiness in everyone, had a mind of its own, given form and intellect. He could feel the devil moving inside of him, looking through his eyes. It wouldn’t control him, though, oh no! He would use its power for himself, helping him walk The Path.
Ricardo wasn't arrogant. Despite so few likely discovering The Path, he knew he was not the first angel, just a servant. But he had been granted this small, private island where he could test himself, survive Dolos' test. Things had been going so well until the first supply drop.
The old man, Sheriff Satin, had been...vexing. After their meeting, Ricardo had begun to doubt his status as Dolos’ chosen. Sheriff had known what was going to happen, as if he’d been connected to the mind of God. At the time, with great difficulty, Ricardo had understood the lesson he was supposed to receive. It was just another test.
Then the Asian student had willingly joined them. Jin, or Kiddy as the other college students called him, had spoken of Dolos' sacred test as if it were nothing more than a simple game. Ricardo had never been so angry in his life.
Kiddy had tried to lead Ricardo from his path, telling them of the enemies' abilities, weaknesses, and possible tactics. The man had gone on about how Cole was their greatest threat, even though it was clear Merciful Dolos had not given Cole a power seed. Even now as Ricardo watched the clearing before him, Cole seemed useless. Ricardo scoffed at the memory of Jin’s lies.
However, the Asian student seemed to truly believe his own words. Ricardo admired that kind of conviction, so he’d commanded his minions to try killing the young man, making a game of it over the last hour. Now, it was time for Jin to die, though.
Unfortunately, as he watched, his men’s efforts now were about as effective as before, with Jin evading death or capture, but not able to put down any of his attackers, either. Mohammad threw balls of fire, but they were too slow to ever hit the fleet-footed Jin. Ricardo’s other men threw rocks and sticks to no avail. On the other hand, Jin used his power to fling rocks, but his aim wasn’t precise, and the others knew to duck or take cover whenever the gamer raised a hand.
The handful of monsters they’d encountered on the way to the supply drop had been utterly destroyed by the crossfire of the ongoing struggle.
Ricardo watched the fight for a moment longer before slipping back into his thoughts. From his perspective, it didn't matter what the enemy's abilities were. They only existed as living forms of doubt, puppets of the emptiness inside to test his resolve, shake him from The Path.
The other group was still a problem, though. Ricardo's eyes flicked to his persistent adversaries where they stood huddled together, watching the others fight in astonishment. They were sheep, leering at their betters. No, no, Ricardo thought. Must not be arrogant. They ar
e still precious souls, ripe for the Path.
But he couldn’t help the flash of frustration as he stared at the old man with the machete, although he didn’t have his machete anymore. Now the useless Cole held the weapon. Ricardo bared his teeth. Sheriff had a focus and calm that infuriated him. Why couldn’t the man understand that he was just a tool to help Ricardo find further enlightenment? Why was he trying to muddy The Path? Sheriff was not a man; he was an obstacle. Perhaps he was a test from Dolos too.
Suddenly, Ricardo snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes narrowing as something blurred. Jin was darting between trees, using his ability to propel himself. This was clever and probably required very little energy. Kenan and Mohammad chased him. Ricardo tsked when he noticed the orange ring moving faster now, marching steadily toward them. The other group had obviously noticed it as well.
Javier, ever the faithful junky, held one of the duffel bags. He had somehow snagged it while Jin fought the others. Javier scratched his neck and gave Ricardo a worried look. "Hey friend, when we reach the portal, are you sure Dolos can take away my poison immunity? I can't get high off of the stuff you give me anymore."
"Of course, my friend," Ricardo said truthfully. He’d already accepted that he would be Dolos' instrument, killing Javier at the portal. Then poor Javvy would have no addictions to feed any longer.
Ricardo frowned at the closing orange dome wall. The trees behind it caught on fire and turned into ash faster than before. He muttered, "It's moving quicker than I thought it would. Getting more destructive, too."
He summoned the black fog. While he was inside of it, he felt lighter, able to maneuver easier. Ricardo was careful with the power, only burning through his food reserves like Jin had said. At least something the gamer had said was useful. The last thing Ricardo wanted was to shorten his lifespan.
He smiled to himself inside his black fog, his Death Cloak, because he knew a secret about the power seeds. The more he accepted it as a part of his nature as who he really was, the less energy it consumed. The level of effect would improve, too. Ricardo had accepted Dolos’ gift as soon as he’d understood The Path, so unlike the others' abilities right now, Ricardo's Death Cloak cost him very little. He'd need every advantage he could get against Sheriff Satin.
That damnable man. Sheriff’s magical ability wasn't the only worrying thing. He had real, recognizable combat skills. "Javvy, hand me the food," Ricardo ordered.
Javier gave the fog a suspicious look before throwing the supply back in Ricardo’s general direction. Inside his dark little world, his Death Cloak, Ricardo began consuming all the remaining protein bars. As the food hit his stomach, it burned into power. The boy, Jin, wasn’t the only one who could plan.
Ricardo would have reserves while fighting Sheriff, clashing with his ability. He needed to end that struggle quickly. If he and the old man made it to the portal alone, the emptiness inside, the evil universe might allow Sheriff to slip through instead of Ricardo.
That wouldn't do. No no no. Now was the time for that troublesome man to die, for all of them to die. Ricardo couldn’t fight everyone at once, though. He'd need to pick them off one at a time.
As he slowly walked forward toward the inevitable battle, the trees ahead of Ricardo burned, making him pause. Suddenly an explosion boomed through the jungle, and it looked like a bomb had gone off ahead, leveling a group of trees and setting some on fire. In the center of the new destruction, Mohammad lay singed, body bent at an awkward angle, pained. He was obviously dead; his fires had burned out.
Ricardo tsked. He didn’t care that one of his tools had died, but the man should have done his job before he proved himself unworthy of Dolos’ gift.
Jin stood to one side, calmly staring at Ricardo like the gamer could somehow see into the Death Cloak. The Asian student’s hand rested on a terrified Kenan’s chest, and Ricardo knew he was about to lose another tool. Rage began to burn in his heart, terrible frustration that these fools couldn’t understand The Path, to see what was right in front of them, all around them! The cleansing dome even burned overhead!
Still hidden in his dark cloud, Ricardo bared his teeth and barked, "Javvy. Kill him."
Chapter 11
Kenan’s eyes were wide, trembling with fear. Kiddy’s looked right back, wary for a counterattack but fairly confident he had completely outmaneuvered his enemy. Kenan himself was still a bit of a mystery, though.
The young man had never stood out much. He didn’t dress like he cared, didn’t really present himself well--hair a bit shaggy, walking with a slouch, speaking too softly. All Kiddy had really known about him was that he’d been a friend of Coleslaw’s, at least before the battle royale game, and that he loved superheroes. His t-shirt now even had a group of superheroes in action poses.
It seemed strange to Kiddy that Kenan hadn’t joined Coleslaw’s group. He thought it made sense for an underachiever who idolized superheroes to have joined the plucky group that believed in we-can-do-it nonsense. Apparently, there were layers of Kenan he had never shown before, because he’d been legitimately trying to kill Kiddy just a few moments ago.
Kenan’s power had obviously been enhanced strength, because he’d swung huge sticks with ease, and had even thrown huge stones the size of soccer balls. And while he definitely looked scared now, he still wasn’t too frightened to wait until he thought Kiddy was distracted and try taking a swing at his face.
His fist didn’t even graze Kiddy’s nose as he was flung backward by a burst of telekinetic power. Kenan hit like a sack of potatoes, his head bouncing against the trunk. Deep down, Kiddy still felt a tiny glimmer of unease about this fight, just like the others, but everyone on this island knew the rules of this game--some were willing to accept reality. Kiddy was only a player, not the dev.
Despite the gravity of the moment, he tracked both remaining groups by sight and sound. He refused to make the mistake of tunnel vision in a situation like this. Every pro gamer knew how to multitask.
He regarded the slouched young man about fifteen feet in front of him. Maybe, under that sloppy, average exterior, Kenan had been a realist. Maybe he’d understood the way this game would pan out. It was possible he’d been stronger than Kiddy had given him credit for. In the end, it didn’t do him much good, though. Kenan cried out and something inside him popped as he stumbled away from the tree. When he snarled and leaned down to pick up a stick to keep fighting, Kiddy used his own power to shoot a stone at Kenan’s face. He’d put a large amount of power into this strike--a kill shot. At short range against a barely moving target, he hadn’t missed.
“Killstreak,” he muttered.
Then it was time to move again. Kiddy darted from tree to tree with the barest use of his tactile-telekinesis, sending small bursts of energy through his feet, basically pushing off the ground. He had never been an athlete, and he was still unused to jumping and sprinting so quickly, almost losing his balance a few times. Each burst burned only a little of the food-based energy he still had left. His strategy now centered on maintaining some reserves for the inevitable final fight.
As he jump-sprinted, he focused carefully on positioning, his attention on the local landscape. Countless hours of playing competitive online games gave him insights on where he needed to place himself next. This battle was a balancing act--he was facing multiple attackers but had to be careful about using his power, sipping his reserves sparingly. On top of all that, the burning dome wall was closing in faster than during the second round.
Now that Ricardo and Javier had joined the fight, Kiddy really wanted to figure out their abilities. He felt cautious about the black cloud that Ricardo hid himself in, and Javier was a wild card, but a fast one. He kept hunting Kiddy like a rabid wolf. The guy was ducking behinds trees, randomly dropping, and basically making himself one hell of a hard target.
Kiddy kept him on his toes, though. He occasionally shot rocks at Javier, with the power of his ability dialed down to conserve strength.
The projectiles probably didn’t have the power to kill, but if they hit the former guide in the head, it could be the beginning of the end for Javier. Unfortunately, the couple times he seemed to get hit were in the man’s torso and leg, enough to draw a hiss of pain and slow him down, just enough to help Kiddy keep his distance.
Noob.
The other group had begun to move, too. Of course, Coleslaw was much smarter as he led his squad of Holly, Jarret, and Nadia. They all kept low and stuck to cover so Kiddy’s projected pebbles would just be a waste of energy. What they were doing wasn’t all that different from Javier, but they were taking it slower, being more precise, utilizing strategy. Kiddy's heart raced at the added complexity.
He couldn't tell if he was panting from fear or excitement, maybe a mix of both. It had been five years since he and Coleslaw had gamed together. Coleslaw had reached out to him several times since then, apologizing for their heated argument. But to Kiddy, that fight had just been the straw that broke the camel's back, a validation that Cole--Efrem--had abandoned Kiddy.
In the past, they had been the dynamic duo, rocketing up the rankings of whatever games they’d played. Cole had usually carried their team until the final stage of each game, giving Kiddy plenty of breathing room to enact his crushing victory plans. Kiddy had even tried to get Cole to stream, to make money off their fun. Efrem's personality would have shined and attracted thousands of loyal followers.
Streaming would have been effortless for Efrem, unlike Jin. While streaming, even though Jin knew all the people spectating his games were only there to see his skill, he’d always felt like they were right there in his dimly lit room, breathing down his neck. His therapist had called it stage fright.
So Jin as Kiddy Whale had become known as the silent pro. Disturbing rumors about him spread--that he was secretly a serial killer, or a child molester, or other terrible things. His therapist and parents told him to stop looking at the comments, and to ignore trolls, but Jin couldn't help it.
Cole Blooded Page 9
