Dream Drive Ch. 02

He proceeded deeper into the maze. The rooms were all made of the same aging stone. What little furniture there was looked like it would collapse if he so much as breathed on it funny. One of the rooms had several flat pallets of straw - five, in total. He'd only killed two. There might be more of them.

He found his way to another hallway. A rat squeaked at his feet. He felt like it had been following him. The creature's chipped buck teeth reminded him of the rattok's snarling maw. He lined up his spear, then jabbed down, skewering the rat.

It was dead instantly. A tiny white wisp merged with Jackson. He'd gained a point of essence.

He began killing rats whenever he saw them. He accumulated 8 essence in a few minutes. He didn't see any more rats. He wasn't sure what bothered him more - the fact that he was slaughtering rats for experience points, or the idea that they were actively avoiding him.

He was making steady progress through the tunnels, but without any sense of direction, he had no idea if that was a good thing. As he walked, he realized that his health bar was slowly regenerating. It was hard to get a sense for the timing, but every minute or so, it seemed he gained back a few points of health.

An open arch with no door caught his eye. He poked his head around the corner. There were two individuals inside - a rattok was seated at a table, reading. Another one was sleeping on a pallet across the room. As Jackson watched, the rattok turned the page. It didn't look up at him.

Jackson slowly lowered his spear against the side of the arch. He drew his iron dagger and crept forward. The rattok was still focused on its book. He crept closer.

Jackson lunged. His knife sank into its neck. Its eyes bulged. He twisted his knife and ripped it out the front of its throat. The creature sagged back, dead. Blood dripped down its neck.

6 more essence. Jackson crept back for his spear and then made for the sleeping rattok.

It rolled over to face him.

Its eyes were closed. A dribble of spit came out of its snout as it snored. Jackson slowly exhaled the momentary panic.

When he was close enough that he was sure he wouldn't miss, he jammed the spear into its throat. He planted his foot on its chest, tugged his weapon free, and stabbed again, twice, three times, ensuring it was dead. It never even had a chance to open its eyes. 7 essence, this time. That gave him a total of 21.

You have created a new skill: Triple Thrust

Triple Thrust: Stab forward three times in quick succession. Requires a weapon that can perform thrusting attacks.

Essence Cost: 15

Level: 1

Progress: 12.3%

Neat.

Jackson opened the menu and dumped 6 essence into his health, bringing it up to a total of 70. Just from his slow recovery, he was already back at 55 health. He kept the rest of his essence stored up, just in case he-

A shriek met his ears. A rattok was at the end of the room. It ran at him, claws raised. Jackson leveled his shield at his foe, prepared to bash it in the face.

Wait. How did he do that?

No time. He was already committed. Jackson ran forward, putting his shoulder against the wood. If he couldn't use the ability, he'd just do it the old fashioned way.

His shield glowed white. The rattok slowed and squinted. Jackson pushed the barrier out in front of him.

The shield slammed into his enemy. The rattok was blown off its feet. It tumbled into another rattok that was coming in just behind it. They collapsed onto the ground. Jackson's essence dropped ten points.

Jackson rushed the struggling rat men, stabbing into them with his spear. They shrieked and squeaked and flopped about. In a moment, they were both dead, and he earned back his investment - fifteen more essence was his to command.

Another rattok turned the corner. Jackson lunged without thinking. His spear took it right in the heart. The light in the rattok's eyes faded as its blood spirted down its chest. Jackson stepped over the bodies as more essence flew into his body.

Holy shit. This was awesome. He was killing the damn things left and right. His health was still recovering. He'd be up to his new maximum in a few minutes.

He heard shrieks in the distance. Squeaks. Some light, some more gruff. He figured that was the rattok language. Taking them on one at a time wasn't too hard, but dealing with multiple foes could be lethal. He ducked into the first room he saw closed the door.

He almost ran back into the hall.

Two human corpses were opened up on the table before him. They'd been sliced into sections and gutted. Innards were collected in sealed jars on nearby shelves. Various sections of legs and hands, packed with salt, were hanging from the ceiling. He grimaced, then ducked behind a few barrels in the back of the room.

The smell was terrible. Sharp, pungent, like vinegar. Pickled feet were floating in the brine. Jesus Christ. He'd almost felt bad about earlier, sneaking up and murdering that rattok, but the feeling was quickly evaporating.

The heavy squeak-speech reached the outside of the butchery. He saw movement through the hole in the door. The dead bodies were shifted and dragged away. There was a heavier grunt. He heard more scampering.

The door to his room creaked open. He crouched low behind the barrels, his spear flat on the floor. He kept his shield propped over his head.

He heard sniffing. Sniffing? Shit. They probably had a great sense of smell.

Footsteps padded closer. The sniffing sound grew louder. Jackson grit his teeth. He felt for the handle of his dagger.

He heard an annoyed grunt; sudden motion away from him. The door to the room opened and shut. Jackson gingerly raised his eyes above the level of the barrel. He was alone.

That made three times lucky. He'd picked the room where the smell was so thick that it couldn't tell him from the rotting corpses. He went up and pressed his eye up to the hole in the door. A single rattok was standing at the intersection, contemplating the spot where the bodies had lain.

Jackson shouldered the door open. The wood slammed the rattok in the back, knocking it over. He gripped his spear and angled it at the creature's neck.

The spear tip glowed white. Was it the triple thrust? Jackson didn't move, more concerned with wasting essence than finishing off the rat.

The glow subsided. Jackson stabbed his spear into the rat's back, over and over, until it stopped shouting. Hearing more movement from the rooms he'd first come from, he dashed down the hallway.

Ok. So, his physical skills responded to his will? That was convenient.

He turned a corner and ducked through another archway. A breeze struck his face. Jackson inhaled deeply. It was sweet and humid. Delicious, wonderful fresh air.

His passage had opened up into a cavern. Blue moonlight shone down through a great hole in the ceiling, illuminating a pond surrounded by moss. A wooden structure was built around the underground oasis, a series of ramps that climbed up through the hole and out to the surface. Thank fucking god. He was getting really sick and tired of ratmania.

"Help!"

Jackson turned. Against one wall was a series of long cages. Three people were locked inside one of them - an old woman, a young girl, and a boy. They were all naked. Dirt and grime matted their hair and skin. They looked like they'd been through hell.

The young man threw his body against the side of the cage. "Please! Help us! They'll eat us!"

The girl was huddled in the corner, staring at him. Her brown eyes were as wide as dinner plates. She didn't move.

"Please!!" the boy shouted.

The old woman crawled to her feet. She grabbed the boy's shoulder and pushed him back. "Warrior, I beg you," she said. "Pease, lend us aid. My soul is old, but theirs are innocent. I beg you." Her hands wrapped around the wooden slats. "Do not leave us for the rattok. Not those things."

There was only one question in Jackson's head: were these real people? Or where they just computer characters?

The cold hand of logic settled down back over him. They had to be computer characters, NPCs. Just very realistic NPCs. That was the whole point.

Emil Mohammed's words resounded in his head. He could do anything he wanted to do. He could walk up that ramp and make his escape. It wasn't as if anyone would ever hear from them again.

When his gaze returned to the cages, the girl was still looked at him. Jackson looked back. He could see a light return to her eyes. She stood up, never breaking their stare. Her fists clenched. He realized he was watching someone who had lost hope find it once again.

Could he walk away from that?

"Warrior," the old woman croaked. "Please."

"Quiet down. They'll hear you."

The old woman shut her mouth and clapped her hands over the boy's lips. Jackson walked up to the cage. It was all made out of wood, slapped together with nails. The slats were spaced wide, but not wide enough for a person to slip through. A door on the opposite side as locked with an iron padlock. He didn't have anything to try and pick it with.

"Get back."

The woman pulled the boy back from the side. Jackson stepped back, then turned and shoved his foot at the wood. It creaked, but didn't break. He swayed to catch himself.

He tried again, and again. The wood didn't give. Shit.

Wait. Maybe...

"Game menu." The menu opened up. Jackson selected the pentagram. He had 27 essence. He dumped 12 points into strength. His carry weight jumped three points. "Close menu."

Jackson lined himself up and slammed his foot into the cage. Same result. He slammed it again, and again, grunting with the effort. His leg burned. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The sound of his bare heel smacking the wood thumped through the cave.

It wasn't any good. He dropped back and put his hands on his knees while he sucked in air.

He could hear garbled squeaks - not rats. Rattok. He heard it again. It was louder. They'd heard what he was doing. Shit.

Jackson glanced at the ramp leading out of the cave. If he had to choose between living, or dying uselessly in an attempt to save some NPCs, he'd pick living.

"They're gonna eat us." The boy was crying again. Tears ran down through the dirt on his face. "They're gonna eat us, he can't break it!"

"Hush, child!" The old woman folded him into her arms, and looked back at Jackson. "You did what you could. Go."

Jackson found his eyes drawn back to the girl. Her lips were quivering. He hands were still balled up, but now she was staring at the floor.

Something in him snapped.

"Fuck this!" Jackson shouted. He roared, dug his back foot in, and kicked again with everything he had. His heel bounced away. He grunted through his teeth and kicked it again, then a third time. He backed up a step, jumped forward, and slammed himself into the wood, foot-first.

He collapsed into the dirt. Nothing. He was too weak. A few points of essence couldn't make up for a lifetime of sitting in his room, cobbling over motherboards and video cards.

He slumped his forehead against the slats of the cage. He gripped them with his hands. "...I'm not strong enough. Sorry."

A shriveled-up hand was placed on his. He looked up to see the old woman. "It is enough, child. Sing of us to mother earth. Our spirits will be with you."

Jackson slapped his hand against the slat next to him. It rattled angrily. He couldn't break a damn piece of wood, and now he was going to run away. They'd be diced up and hung to dry like pieces of ham.

Wait. That slat had rattled. Jackson stood straight and rapped his knuckles on the slat he'd been kicking. It didn't budge. He tried slapping the other one again. It rattled about in its slot.

"Child, please. You should not share our fate."

"Shut up a second."

The woman blinked at him, but stepped away from the edge. Jackson sighed. He was always too...blunt. It just spurted out. But he needed to think.

He glanced at where the slats met with the roof of the cage. The one he was kicking was nailed in - shoddy, rusty bolts, but iron all the same. But the other...it was only held in place because it was inserted in a bevel cut into the roof. That's why it was rattling around. The only thing holding it in place was the weight of the top of the cage.

He crouched, then grabbed it with both hands. The wood was rough and splintered. He checked his grip, then grunted, lifting with his legs and back.

The heavy section of wood above the cage creaked slightly. His lips curled over his teeth as he pulled harder. His hands slipped. A splinter stung his palm, and he fell back onto the ground. A tiny tick of red was missing from his health bar.

He set himself again and lifted. All he had to do was get the wood to bend about half an inch, the height of the bevel. The sound of snapping splinters cracked from the roof.

He dropped it again. Squeaks were coming down the tunnel he'd come from. He couldn't tell how close - the cave made them all echo. He set himself again.

Another pair of hands joined his on the wood. The girl was crouched opposite him. Jackson caught her eyes, then nodded. She sucked in her breath, then grunted. He squeezed his legs and pushed from his heels.

There was another snap. Jackson flew back as the wood popped free of its slot. The long slat clattered to the cave floor next to him.

The girl slipped through the bars. She grabbed the boy and pulled him through. The old woman was next, but she was slow to move, hobbling. Jackson spotted a nasty red gash on the back of her ankle. It looked bad, definitely infected.

No time for that. He waved them forward. "Come on."

Jackson went for the ramp, scanning the cave for any sign of rattok. It sounded like they were about to pour in from every direction, but none had reached them yet. The girl supported the woman under one arm as they stumbled after him.

A louder shriek came from above. A rattok was racing down the ramp from outside. Jackson ran upward, holding his shield high.

At the last moment, he crouched, bracing his body against the shield. The momentum worked to his advantage. The rattok slammed into him, but it flipped up, over, and rolled down the ramp. Jackson popped out of his crouch and stabbed it to death before it could get up.

He glanced over at his new baggage. They were watching him, wide-eyed. "The hell are you doing?! Move it!"

"I...thank you," the woman said. "Thank you."

"Go!"

The girl steered the woman up the ramp. They hobbled along at an excruciatingly slow pace. The boy darted ahead of them, peeking up over the edge of the cave. "I think that was the only one! Let's go!" He ran forward and scurried out of sight.

At the top of the ramp, the girl stopped. "What about you?"

Jackson was watching the tunnels. When he turned to face her, he inhaled sharply. Her back was covered in puffy, bloody marks. She'd been whipped.

"I'll figure it out," Jackson said. "Keep going."

She shook her head. "You did not abandon us. I will not leave you to your death."

"If you don't hurry it up, you're going to be rat food."

"Then rat food I shall be!" she said, louder.

"Chaki," the woman said, "listen to him, and take me onward."

"But - Shaka, he's -"

"Now!"

"...thank you," the girl said. A moment later, they were over the ridge of the cave.

Jackson slowly backed up the wooden walkway. The first rattok to reach the room shrieked and spluttered and waved its hands, but it didn't attack him. Another one came, and then another, until five of them were slavering at the bottom of the ramp.

The walk could fit two people side by side, but with his shield and spear poised in front of him, Jackson posed an intimidating chokepoint. With those injuries, the girl and woman were going to need some time to get any safe distance away. He had to hold them off. His health was just about at maximum. He could do this.

He heard a sound like a high-pitched growl. It was deeper than the usual squeaks. The group of rattok immediately scampered away from the ramp.

A monster emerged from the dark. It was half again as big as the next biggest rattok, easily taller than Jackson. While the others wore bits of tattered cloth, this one was smart enough to make use of sturdy leather. It held a spiked wooden club. It growled under its teeth up at Jackson. He held his ground.

The rattok looked over its shoulder and snapped its fingers. It pointed at him and growled something.

Two rats as big as dogs leapt up the wooden ramp. Jackson stabbed at one. His spear pierced into its open mouth, killing it, but also lodging his weapon in the beast's throat. The second one dashed under his reach and bit into his ankle.

He let go of his spear and drew his dagger. He plunged his weapon into the rat, stabbing through its hide again and again. It remained stubbornly latched onto his leg. His health bar dropped alarmingly fast. He stabbed it again, right in the eye, and pried it off with his fingers. The corpse rolled off the ramp and into the pool of water.

When Jackson looked up, a club was in his face.

It felt like being hit with a pillow - a pillow that held a brick in its center. He flew back. His head smacked the wooden ramp. Ringing filled his ears.

The rattok hefted the club for a crushing blow. Jackson rolled left as it came down, letting his shield fall from his hand in order to dodge the hit. The club smashed through part of the ramp.

Jackson got to his feet and scrambled back. He still had the height advantage, but only half his health. Another hit from that club might be lethal.

His spear was still lodged in the corpse of the rat. The rattok kicked his fallen shield down into the cavern. Jackson drew his iron dagger.

The rattok made a coughing grunt. Jackson realized it was laughing. The situation was comical, in a way - Jackson, armed with what amounted to a tiny knife, stood facing a monster almost twice his size, wielding a club that could probably crack boulders.

Jackson found himself grinning.

This was exciting.

He was on the ropes, sure. But Jackson had been dealt shitty hands before. The fear, the panic - that was all gone. He was playing a game, and he intended to win. The rattok leader was tough, sure. He'd seen worse in plenty of video games. Instead of a controller, he was using his hands.

He needed a surprise.

Jackson leaned back. He raised his hands, holding his dagger up. He took a long breath, then bellowed the biggest war cry he could manage. His scream tore into the cave, echoing off the walls. The smaller rattok, watching down near the pool, covered their ears. The leader hesitated.

You have created a new skill: War Cry

Jackson pushed off the ramp and leapt, throwing himself bodily at his enemy. His arms and legs wrapped the stunned creature. Jackson jabbed his knife into its back, pulled it out, stabbed again, dragged and twisted it through leather and skin. The creature made a pained roar.

The rattok grabbed Jackson's shoulder. Needle claws pierced around his collarbone. Jackson kicked and scraped and stabbed, but the rattok was still stronger than him. It peeled him off and tossed him down the ramp with a growl. It reached behind its neck and groped for the dagger still protruding from its back. It pulled it free and tossed it down into the pool.

The distraction gave Jackson enough time to pull his spear out of the rat corpse. He held it in both hands, the tip pointed at the rattok's snout. The leader regarded him warily now. They stared one another down, weapons ready.

Jackson flicked his spear forward to test for a reaction. The rattok immediately stepped back. It narrowed its eyes, and slowly took the space once again.

It brought the club up and lunged. Jackson was ready. The tip of his spear glowed white. He thought the words in his head: Triple Thrust.