Chương 6: Alexander Vog (1)

Crack My mace shatters the skull of the last skeleton in the room. Her face doesn't leave my mind, even in the middle of a fight. After a short delay, a familiar chime hits my ear. I mindlessly will the system to show the results. [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [Warrior(lv. 2) > (lv. 3)] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] Even seeing my growth in real time doesn't remove the frustration in my heart or the hunger in my stomach. Ever since I've been moved to this strange place, the only thing I can think about is her. Her being Mina, my little sister. As I stare at the piles of bones, my memory takes me into the past, when I had just turned 18. I lived in the heart of Russia, with my drug-addled mother and misery-filled father. The thought of him makes my hands clench, and my teeth grind.

Every single day, I would come home to my mother zoned out on the couch with a needle in her arm. Across the room would be my father, watching something or other on the television, always yelling with spittle flying out of his mouth and a bottle in his hand. My father was not the type to do things under the radar. Whenever I got home from school, I was not met with a hug, a hello, or a meal. More often than not, I would be met with a flying beer bottle. The beating followed soon after.

Over time, I had honed the ability to take blows on places where the damage wouldn't last. A liver shot would hit the stomach. A broken nose turned into a punch to the forehead. A kick to the shin softened with a tumble. After a long enough time, he would get tired. He would always get tired. I could have left. Every day, I would plan to not come home and instead take a cab to another city. But that thought was always followed by an image of my father towering over Mina.

As well as fear of what would happen if I failed. The days were like clockwork, never changing. I thought he only beat me because he knew I could take it. I never thought he would do what he did that night. I had friends at school. We laughed. We played. We were happy. But we never got close. Never met after school. It was Mina who brought life into me. It was her pure soul, which never bore hatred for another, that brought a smile to my face.

It was her smile when she made a new drawing that brought warmth to my heart. It was her laughter that made me forget all of the pain. That day, I came home, and it was silent. My mother was in her spot on the couch as always, delirious to the point of unconsciousness. Sometimes my father would be asleep when I got home. Those were the days when I could escape his wrath, sometimes avoiding him until night came and I could sleep. But that day didn't feel like one of those. Something inside said something was wrong.

I dropped my backpack at the door to find Mina. I jogged through the living room, down the hall, and to the left to Mina's room. The first thing I saw was my father's back, tall and imposing. His fist was clenched at his side. Lying at his feet was Mina. The joyful aura she infected everyone with was gone. Her smile, gone. Replaced with tearful eyes and a red welt on her cheek. Seven years old. I scream and turn, punching the rough, stone brick wall as hard as I can.

Even with an increase in fortitude, the pain seeps through. When I saw Mina in that state, I didn't get angry. I didn't feel sad for Mina on the ground. Nor did I feel scared of what my father would do next. I didn't feel anything. I didn't think anything. Still, my body moved. Even though I was beaten regularly, I had never fought back. I had never truly been in a fight. I mostly stayed silent and to myself at school, only occasionally making friends, with whom I shared nothing.

My personality was carefully constructed over my entire life to never pose a threat or invite hostility. Still, my body moved. With an emotionless face, I kicked the back of my father's knees and caught him in my arms. I grabbed his head and chest to drag him across the hall and out of Mina's room. It was only when we entered my room that he snapped out of his surprise. His giant, muscled hand gripped my leg, making me fall onto my back with him on top of me.

Pain flared up my leg, but otherwise, my face didn't change. With one arm, I clasped my hand around my father's mouth. With the other, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pencil I had used at school that day. A tool of learning transformed into a weapon of deadly intent. It plunged several inches deep into his chest. My father's movements froze for a second. I slowly brought it out and looked at the blood dripping off it. Again, I struck down, barely missing his heart.

His grip tightened, pulling a cry of pain from my lips. Three, four, five, six. I stabbed over and over. My father stopped thrashing and tried to push himself to the side. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. My expression hardened like steel. My father gasped, but only fluid entered his lungs. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. His hand fell, body going limp. Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

On the thirty-sixth strike, my pencil snapped in half. I stared at the broken pencil, slick with dark red blood for a few seconds before pushing my father's body off my chest and standing up. Half a minute passed as I stared at my father's body riddled with holes. My breath quickened. Emotions started to creep in. A whisper of panic floated in my mind. Like a balloon at a fair, every breath I took inflated my panic further. Thinking quickly, I reached into my father's pocket and took his wallet.

I didn't stop as I sped into Mina's room and saw her still shocked at what had happened to her only moments ago. I moved fast, picked Mina up, and spoke to her.

"M-m-mina, come on, it's t-time to go." My lip quivered uncontrollably, and my body shook slightly. Mina's eyes flickered to my hand, covered in thick, dark blood. My heart shook with pain as I watched her expression of shock only grow. Then, fear. At me. Tears ran down my cheeks as I ran through the living room, only sparing a glance at my still drugged mother on the couch. With my free hand, I snatched my backpack and left without turning back.

After the murder of my father, I cab hopped from one city to the next using my father's money. At the end of the month, we found a small town out of the way. With great luck, I found a kind, local teacher who was willing to look the other way on my silent origins and teach Mina. I picked up grunt work in the surrounding area. Mina and I lived well together. Neither of us mentioned what happened that day. With time, she went back to being the joyful person I knew from before. Six years passed.

I turned twenty-four, and Mina turned thirteen. She pretends not to have known what happened that day because she was too young, but the occasional look in her eyes tells me all I need to know. 40 hours ago, the earth started shaking, and we both received messages on a floating blue panel. We worked on the screens together as the earth began breaking apart under our very feet. I can't forget the feeling of my arms closing around myself as Mina disappeared from them, evaporating into thin air.

The feeling stayed with me as I was whisked away soon after. After that, I was dropped off in a dark room, wearing nothing but a tank top, pajama pants, and socks. After I got my bearings, I was awarded a single steel mace for learning about this 'system'. I looked up and examined the surroundings. A dark, humid room made of stone bricks. The light was bright as a cloudless half-moon night. That is, just enough light to see without making out any colors. In front of me, a blue screen.

[Your dungeon type is: Crypt] I walked through the first rusted steel door expecting to fight for my life against an undying horde of zombies. Instead, what greeted me was a single skeleton, no weapon in hand. I played it safe, entering the room and watching its movements, but it only slowly stumbled towards me. The following fight was nothing to mention. I was only first struck in the fourth room, the one I just finished. But as my mind panicked slightly, the pain never came.

The skeleton only hit as hard as a 13-year-old. But it was not the skeletons that were the real threat in this dungeon. My hand grips around the mace as I focus back on the present. I continue reading the last message from the fight I just finished. [You have earned a reward for clearing a room] [Accept / Bank / Consolidate] I hold my breath. There is only one thing I need if I'm going to live through this. Holding my hand out upwards, I press accept with the other.

I learned earlier that the item will appear in my hand if I hold it out. I understood that the hard way when I received my reward from the first room. In that room, the red potion had appeared out of thin air, promptly fell to the floor and shattered against the stone. The fluid inside leaked between the bricks. My hand receives sensation; a knife is suddenly there. The scowl on my face deepens, then even further when I see the condition of the knife.

"Identify." [A brittle iron knife, heavily rusted with extremely low structural integrity]"FUCK!" The knife slams into the ground with a snap, causing it to break into two pieces. The hole in my stomach grows deeper.

"System, time," irritation fills my voice. [9. 38 cycles until next phase] I do the math quickly in my head. Around 40 hours. 40 hours without any food or water. Fear creeps down my spine. Death doesn't even grace my mind. My fear is that Mina might look for me when this is all over, not knowing that my body lies in the middle of nowhere, kidnapped by the system. Worse, I fear Mina is going through the same thing as I am, slowly starving to death. All alone.

An image of Mina, starved and wheezing on a stone floor similar to mine, flashes through my mind. My fear deepens. No, not fear. Terror. Dread. My mouth feels dry as a desert, and my stomach feels as if its next meal might be itself. I know I should be consolidating my room rewards for something usable, but I keep hoping and praying I might get even just a piece of moldy bread. Instead, I get garbage. With no other choice, I walk over to the unopened door and walk through, seeing exactly what I expect.

The fourth room had four skeletons, while this one has five. As I enter, all 5 skeletons stop hunching and bring their heads up, staring at me. I still find it creepy, but the feeling is lessened when I know they can't reasonably hurt me. With surprise, I notice a difference compared to the other rooms. On the right wall, there is a basin containing a liquid. My eyes brighten with hope, but I focus back on the enemies. They begin stumbling towards me, and I stand still.

Once they get close enough, I move around the edge of the wall, causing them to group even more and stumble single file towards me. The first skeleton gets in range and lunges, trying to grab me by the shoulders. Expecting this from the behavior of the previous rooms, I duck under and strike its leg with my mace. With a crack, the skeleton's femur snaps in half, and I dodge as it falls to the ground. It attempts to crawl towards me all the same, but it can no longer keep up with its friends.

I repeat the movements, exploiting the group's predictable nature. Soon enough, there are five single-legged skeletons crawling towards me. It's grunt work to walk around and finish them off. After every strike, a beautiful chime sounds in my mind, causing my mood to worsen. After my fourth kill, the chime is accompanied by a feeling of my muscles coiling and my body growing tougher. My mood brightens slightly upon feeling the sensation of leveling up.

Without hesitation, I run over to the Stone bowl, not even two feet in diameter. My sight falls on a dirty liquid with algae coating the top. I grimace, my only hope extinguished in an instant. Reluctantly, I take a look at my gains.

"Show me," I say to no one. [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [Warrior(lv. 3) > (lv. 4)] [You have slain Weak Skeleton lv. 1] [Full experience granted] [You have earned a reward for clearing a room] [Accept / Bank / Consolidate] As usual, I hold out my hand and press accept with anticipation.

In my hand, a small red bottle appears, causing my brow to furrow in anger.

"Identify," I grit out. I do it even though I know exactly what I'll see. [A bottle containing a red liquid] Scowling, a bit of anger enters my chest. Before it builds up, I sigh and release it. My eyes flick to the basin of water with determination. Time to do something drastic.

"Status," I say, looking for two particular lines [Fortitude: 18] [Unassigned: 4] Starting at 14, fortitude was my highest stat when I entered the dungeon. Then it went up by one for each of my level-ups. Before I commit to my decision, I confirm what I'm thinking. Nodding to myself, I tap fortitude four times. With no warning, it hits me. My lungs freeze, and my veins constrict. My breath catches as my body reinforces itself over several seconds. When it is done, I gasp for breath. It feels… amazing.

I reach out my arm and flex. I know it didn't increase by too much, but my body now feels like a mountain. Unbreakable. Instead of continuing to revel in my own body or testing my new durability, I rush over to the fountain like a man dying of thirst. Which isn't too far from the case. Hoping my newfound fortitude is enough to ward off the various diseases and afflictions, I grip the side of the bowl. My head swings down as I gulp down the algae-covered water. I drink, and I drink, and I drink.

The water may be musty, stale, and ridden with bacteria, but to me, it tastes like the nectar of the gods. I drink until my stomach fills out, and the sensation of hunger dulls. Standing, I walk over to one of the destroyed skeletons. My mace comes down hard on its femurs multiple times. They both break apart into small pieces. I crouch down and pick apart the pieces, looking for the gold that my starving body needs. Bone marrow. I pick up the differently colored bone shards and consume them.

It tastes waxy and buttery, far better than I thought it would. I repeat this process for over an hour, crushing and consuming the femurs, then shins, then forearms of every skeleton in the room. Somewhat filled, I walk to the unopened door and look through. Instead of six skeletons, like the pattern before, there stands only one. It has a faint, ghostly green energy connecting each of its joints. Along with a rusty short sword in its grip. My expression turns firm. I'm coming, Mina.

As I open the door, the skeleton straightens and turns to me, revealing green flames in both eyes. Marching into the room, I pull my mace back. In a world without you, I'd rather not live at all.