He’d made it almost two flights before he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs behind him. He stopped at once. They were coming fast. Careless.
Well damn. Dumb move. Smart thing would’ve been to wait in ambush when he came back.
He moved to the next landing, tilted his head, and listened. The rhythm of the steps told him it was one set of boots hammering down in a rush.
System, if it’s Cedric, maybe I can hurt him just a little. Around the edges.
:: System: Maybe just the toes.
What? You made an actual joke? System, I’m so proud of you.
He barely had time to refocus before someone burst around the turn above him.
Toby appeared with a spear held across his body. He was so focused on coming down fast he didn’t seem to notice Harry waiting for him.
“Toby?”
The boy tried to stop fast. His boots scraped across the stone, sliding half a step before he caught himself. He offered the spear with both hands.
“Did you forget your spear, sir?”
Harry blinked once, then reached out. Toby handed it over with a kind of frantic relief.
“Thank you, Toby. That was silly of me.”
“It’s alright, isn’t it, sir.” Toby’s grin crept out, small and crooked. He looked down for a moment, cheeks coloring. “We all do it, don’t we? One time I forgot to milk Freya, that’s our cow, and Maw-Maw didn’t let me forget about it… well not ever.”
“Maw-Maw is your grandmother, I take it?”
Toby brightened, shoulders rising. “Yes sir! Pa thinks he runs the farm but we all know who…”
Harry waited but he’d already noticed Toby often let his sentences fade away.
“She sounds like a lot of old ladies I’ve known. We’ll have you back so she can fuss at you some more.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it, sir?”
Harry nodded and shifted the spear into a comfortable grip. He turned toward the next flight, ready to move, when Toby spoke again.
“Sir?”
Harry glanced back.
“If you’d like, I can run up for my spear and go with you. I’m not a knight like… but I can back you up.”
Dammit, system. We better get this boy out of here.
Harry stepped close enough to meet Toby’s eyes. “Toby, that is the nicest offer I’ve had in a long time. But for now, I think it’s better if I look around on my own. Cedric isn’t entirely wrong.”
“If you think it’s best, then alright sir.” Toby turned toward the stairs, took one step, stopped again, and looked back. "I know it's not my place, but maybe I'm not real fond of Sir Cedric."
He gave Harry a quick nod and started trotting back up, footsteps fading into the stairwell above.
Harry stood and watched Toby climb until he disappeared around the first bend. The stairwell settled into quiet, the torchlight throwing steady orange bands across the stone.
System, if I wasn’t here, would Zinkle have even sent these people?
:: System: Data is inconclusive. However, conjecture suggests with the impending time limit and his desperation, he would have proceeded with someone else in your place.
Thanks. Even if it’s not true, that helps.
:: System: A recommendation is available, if desired.
System, you’re full of surprises today. Let’s hear it. And for future reference I’m always willing to hear your suggestions. So long as they don’t involve eating homeless people.
:: System: Duly noted. Recommend you check unread messages before exploring first level.
“Right.” Harry rubbed at his forehead and pulled his pack strap higher on his shoulder. He called up the unread messages. Only two.
He opened the first.
:: System: New title awarded, “Deflowered Dungeon Diver”. (+25 xp)
“Seriously?”
:: System: That is the standard title given to every user upon first entry to a dungeon.
“So they’re not only mocking me. Good to know.”
He cleared it with a thought and opened the next.
:: Quest Available: Clear First Level of the Chambers of Attrition?
:: Reward: Bonus XP, +2 Attribute Points, Skill [Shadow Manipulation]
:: Accept? (Y/N)
Harry snorted. "I guess we know who named this dungeon." He studied the quest prompt. "Do dungeon quests always give such nice rewards?"
:: System: Negative. UI Aspect philosophy dictates first dungeon experiences be made memorable and satisfying.
Harry let out a slow breath and tightened his grip on the spear. “If I live long enough, I think that’ll count for both. And yes, I accept the quest.”
He descended the last two flights, passing torches mounted at each landing. At the bottom, he crouched low and looked out.
The dark chamber stretched ahead, long and narrow. Sixty feet deep, maybe half as wide. Stone columns ran down the center in pairs, their surfaces pitted and cracked. Sarcophagi lined the walls. Every lid he could see had been moved, shoved askew or shattered on the floor.
System, how is that fair?
:: System: The Dungeon Aspect is known for its capricious nature.
Did you ever feel the whole world was out to get you?
Not getting an answer from System, he went back to checking the room.
Unlit torches were set in sconces above each tomb. Dark alcoves gaped between them.
The vaulted ceiling arched overhead, lost in shadow his night vision could barely pierce. The air smelled of dust and something older. Spices and chemicals. It reminded him of anatomy lab way back at veterinary school.
Nothing moved.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
I know I’ve seen this set in a dozen horror movies.
:: System: From repeated usage and context, a movie is similar to a play or opera?
Actually, yeah. That’s accurate enough. So I’m assuming the guys in the stone boxes will attack when I go in there?
:: System: Unknown. It is probable they are drawn to the presence of life. Their reaction to your nature will be informative.
Harry chuckled.
Alright, wish me luck.
He slid one foot forward into the room, then brought the other to meet it. The torches flickered, as if uncertain what to do, then flared to life. Dancing orange light pooled around each sarcophagus, revealing that the alcoves opened into passages.
With the light he could also see lines and channels had been carved into the stone floor, some circular, some twisting in strange geometric paths. The grooves caught the torchlight in places but were mostly filled with dust. In several places, the dust had been disturbed.
Harry could see the scuff of boots leading into the room and back out, clear signs of the others having come in.
“Brave Sir Cedric, bravely ran away,” he murmured.
Focus, Harry.
He took another slow step forward. At the far end of the room, beyond the last row of tombs, a tall arched opening led into a narrow corridor. It looked like another flight of stairs leading down.
He held still, listening. Nothing moved. No breath, no shuffle of feet. Just the low flutter of the torches and the faint scurry of small claws on stone. Rats, somewhere in the passages. He concentrated on his Blood Sense, pushing it outward, and picked up the thin threads down past the first two sarcophagi that confirmed it.
Rats. Or as we say in the vampire business, midnight snacks.
From the sarcophagi and a few spots in the nearest passage he felt something different. It moved in and out of his perception, threads that felt green, if that made sense. Rotted and decayed.
System, what is that? Can I use it to mesmerize them?
:: System: Negative. That would require the Skill [Control Undead], most commonly available with the Vampiric Sub-Class [Grave Bound].
Well, that’s not happening.
He moved slowly toward the first stone coffin, each footfall muffled by dust. As he approached, the green thread became more distinct. As he got closer, the thread started to move, slowly waving like it was caught in a breeze. When he was just close enough to stand on tip toes and look inside, he found a corpse in tattered finery. Shrunken skin, clothes faded to brittle gray, strands of hair clinging to a gaunt skull.
A long tear in the fabric. A fresh gash in the chest beneath it.
Harry slid to the side, keeping his distance and peered around the sarcophagus. On the floor beyond it lay Cedric's spear.
Alright, so, he wasn’t jumping at shadows. Still shouldn’t have run off like that.
Harry moved past the first coffin and got close enough to see into the next. A similar dried corpse lay inside, this one in chain armor. A rust-flecked sword rested along its chest, the tip angled down, clutched in both bony hands. The metal smelled faintly of old iron, sharp in the dusty air.
He moved back to the first sarcophagus. Slow steps. Careful. He stopped a few feet away and watched. No movement. The body lay still in its tattered finery.
He slid a step closer, the spear extended to give it a small poke. Dust shifted.
He let out a thin breath, edged closer. The green thread picked up its movement, waving quicker.
When the spear was just inches away, the eyes snapped open. Dark sockets, empty except for glowing red sparks at their center. Skeletal hands shot upward, but Harry’s vision stretched and the movement slowed, every joint grinding as it sat up.
His first impulse was to sprint back toward the stairs.
He spun, caught his boot on a chunk of the broken lid, and hit the floor hard on his back. The spear clattered from his grip.
By the time he scrambled up to his feet, the undead corpse was already throwing itself over the rim of the sarcophagus and diving straight at him.
He saw it coming but even in slow motion it was too close to dodge.
He jerked his shield up and the impact slammed into him. They hit the floor hard, Harry flat on his back with the corpse sprawled over him.
With one hand, the thing gripped the top rim of his shield, trying to force it down toward his chest. The other hand raked at his free arm, claws scraping across the bracer. Its head drove forward again and again, jaws wide, teeth snapping inches from his face.
And it was strong. Stronger than he expected. Inch by inch, it pushed the shield lower.
:: System: Use skill [Frenzy]? (Y/N)
Harry hesitated, and that was all it needed. The corpse slammed his shield aside and lunged for his face.
He snapped his head to the side, but that left his neck open. Rotten teeth punched into the flesh at the base of his shoulder and clamped down hard. The thing pulled, trying to rip him open.
“Yes! Use Frenzy!”
Heat hit him in a rush. Power. His muscles coiled and released. The wild thing inside broke loose.
Get off me!
He drove the shield up and across, the rim cracking into the side of its skull with everything he had.
His own flesh tore under its teeth as it was wrenched off him.
The prey was knocked back, neck exposed.
Harry surged up, fangs out, dripping, and clamped onto the rotted throat.
Even through the frenzy the taste hit him. Reek, rot, rancid filth. But it didn’t matter.
He bit deep. No blood! Tear it. Destroy it.
He jerked back, ripping old tendon and dried meat, and drove in again, biting harder.
The corpse clawed at his back, scraping at armor, boots kicking in frantic bursts.
Harry wrapped both arms around it, hauling it tight against his chest, and kept tearing.
Chunks of desiccated flesh came away in his teeth. The thing kept fighting. Wouldn't stop. Wouldn't die.
He shook it hard, violent jerks that sent brittle bones grinding, felt something snap, kept going.
The red cleared, the rage snapped off. His arms dropped, strength gone. He lay sprawled across the corpse, pinning it down. He'd rolled them at some point. Didn't remember when. Too weak to push himself off. The taste registered. Rot. Filth. Rancid meat coating his tongue and throat. He gagged, tried to spit, and retched.
He weakly lifted his head to look at the corpse. Its head hung by a thread, the red spark gone from its eyes.
His own neck throbbed. The pain came flooding back. He lifted a shaking hand and felt along the wound, fingers finding a ragged tear, warm and slick. Thick blood seeped between his fingertips.
His eyes went straight to his meters.
H: 72 | V: 88 | TM: 12%
:: System: Use Skill [Self-Heal] (Y/N)
Not yet.
With a groan he rolled off the body and lay flat on the cold stone, limbs spread, chest rising and falling in uneven pulls of air.
System, how are you supposed to kill these things?
:: System: Decapitate, dismember, or burn. For optimal results, apply all three.
He stayed where he was, staring up at the dark arch of the ceiling. Little by little, strength crept back into his arms and legs.
Will it always take this long to recover?
:: System: Negative. At higher levels [Frenzy] will evolve. Duration will be selectable, recovery will be quicker. Self control will improve.
That sounds good. How do I get it to a higher level?
:: System: Skills advance through repeated use. Additional increases may occur when you gain a level.
Nice. Something to aim for. It’s good to have goals. Aspirations. For example, I’d do about anything right now for some mouthwash.
He turned his head and spat. The taste wouldn't clear. He needed something to wash it down. Blood. His mind went to the rats he'd sensed earlier. Biting the rat was terrible. But compared to decomposed flesh? He'd take it.
You said sip didn’t work on rats because they didn’t have enough life right?
:: System: Affirmative. Standard sized rats have insufficient life force to provide vitae from Skill [Sip].
Hold on, standard size? So that means there’s miniature rats right?
:: System: Affirmative. The rattus minimus.
Good. That’s not so bad. Even sounds cute.
:: System: There are also rattus magnus, giganteus and colossus along with many other varieties.
Of course there is.
He pushed himself to his feet, swaying once, and stood looking down at the corpse.
System, this thing isn’t going to self heal, is it?
:: System: Negative. It will not revive unless the dungeon is reset. However, it can be reanimated by an active third party.
You have a specific third party in mind?
:: System: Negative.
Harry glanced around the chamber, spotted his spear and Cedric’s lying near the sarcophagus. He walked over, picked them both up, and carried Cedric’s back to the stairwell. He set it there, leaning it against the wall.
He turned back toward the room.
System, I think it’s time for a little venatio rattum.
He moved toward the first side passage past the corpse he had just fought.
***
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