James A. Hunter
patreon
Backrooms 2: Kiosk Kingdom - Chapter 24
🕑 Added 2024-06-13 19:38:37 +0000 UTCTwenty-Four – Proxy War
“If you hurt my dog,” I growled at the woman, blood still streaming from my nose, “I swear to the good Lord above that it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
The woman looked at me and offered an easy tight-lipped smile.
“Why would I ever want to hurt your poor, sweet, precious pet?” she asked, raising a single eyebrow. “I know exactly how much the beast means to you, Dan. I was only trying to ensure nothing happened to it during this unfortunate altercation.” She gestured with a thin hand toward the butchery spread across the floor. The courtyard had once again become a killing field. “But now that the danger has passed,” she added after a moment, “there is no need to protect the creature any longer.”
That was a load of bullshit and she and I both knew it. Croc didn’t need protecting—not from the Aspirants, at any rate. No, she’d done that to prove a point. To prove that she could do to us what she’d done to the Red Hands if she had half a mind too.
The strange woman waved a hand absently through the air and Croc lazily drifted to the floor, its bear-like hind feet touching down softly before the violet glow vanished entirely. The same aura enveloping the woman blinked off. From where I stood, she looked pale and fragile and pitifully vulnerable, but after that little display, I knew she was far more dangerous than all the Aspirants we’d come to save her from.
I wasn’t sure what Relics she had, but clearly this woman was a force of nature. A biblical plague.
“Croc,” I barked, never taking my eyes from the woman, “get back toward the door. And if I tell you to run, you run. You got that?”
“But, Dan—” the dog started to say.
“Just do what I tell you too, okay?” I replied in a firm tone, pulling my hammer free from my toolbelt while I simultaneously prepared to hit the woman with a concentrated geyser of Hydro Blast. She was tough, but I doubted she’d be able to shrug off 100,000 psi of flaming water any better than the first Aspirant had.
“There really is no need for that,” the woman said. “I have no intention of hurting you or your friends. Just the opposite. You might find this hard to believe, but I harbor you no ill will. I come in peace.”
She raised her hands into the air, palms out, showing they were empty, and that she meant no harm. Not that I believed her, of course. I’d just seen her turn three Aspirants into meat cubes without ever raising a weapon.
Clearly, she was capable and extremely dangerous.
Still, I held my ground and didn’t immediately retreat. Sure, part of me wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and bolt for cover, but this lady was a predator, pure and simple, and you never turned your back on a predator. Never. They could smell fear, taste weakness, and if I projected anything other than complete go-fuck-yourself-confidence there was every chance that she’d attack, despite her promise to the contrary.
“This doesn’t look especially peaceful to me,” I said, gesturing at the corpses with my freehand.
“Perhaps I should clarify, I mean you no ill will.” She smiled and dipped her head toward the bodies. “These wretched creatures are monsters, less than human.” Something dark and nasty flashed behind her eyes. “They deserved their fate. Surely you must agree?”
She glanced toward the Aspirant I’d killed. It was impossible to miss the smoldering hole punched all the way through his chest and back. The flames had continued to burn and now all that remained was a charred corpse.
I hadn’t even gotten the guy’s name.
I wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.
I felt… strangely empty inside. It wasn’t at all like when I’d killed Natasha. I’d hesitated that first time, and the guilt had hit almost immediately. Like a sucker punch to the stomach. But this time the only thing I felt was a faint thread of… relief?
There was a lot to unpack there, and now wasn’t the time or place. I could get in touch with my emotions another time, like when there wasn’t a homicidal maniac staring me down.
“Yeah, but I didn’t slap chop ’em,” I shot back. I sounded defensive in my own ears. “That”—I nodded toward the pile of cubed meat—“is just excessive.”
The woman shrugged. “You say excessive, I say just another Tuesday. Besides, the only reason you didn’t do it is because you don’t have the power to. Yet. But if I gave you my Relic, are you honestly telling me you wouldn’t have done the same?” She tapped the side of her nose. “I think we both know the truth.”
I was quiet, because I didn’t have an answer. Or rather, I because I had an answer and didn’t want to admit it out loud.
“It doesn’t matter either way,” she continued after a beat. “In the end, it’s all just semantics. Whether it’s a meat cleaver to the neck”—she stole a sidelong look at Temperance—“an angle grinder to the face, or a jet of supercharged water, dead is still dead.”
“That’s not true,” Croc said. The dog was supposed to be by the door, ready to retreat if I gave the word. Instead, Croc—now back in dog form—padded over and sat beside me. “Friends don’t leave friends behind, Dan,” the mimic said to me softly, before turning back to the woman. “Maybe the end result doesn’t change, but the intention does. You wanted to kill those people. I can see it in your eyes. You enjoyed it.”
“And?” the woman asked, unphased by Croc’s accusation.
“And that makes all the difference in the world,” Croc said with stone cold certainty. “Dan isn’t out here killing people for fun. He doesn’t hunt them for enjoyment. We’re building something. Something good. Something that’s going to help people and make this world a better place. We’ve already saved dozens of people and before we’re done, we’ll save hundreds. Maybe thousands. For the first time in my life, I’m part of a community. I have friends. And friends are worth fighting for. Worth killing for, even if we don’t want to. Dan told me that, and that’s why he’s a better man than you’ll ever be. That makes him worth dying for.”
The mimic stepped forward, positioning itself firmly between me and the woman.
I was surprised by the action, but even more so when Temperance joined him. They formed a wall in front of me. Well, they tried too. Temperance was all of five feet nothing and Croc was down on all fours, so it wasn’t much of a wall, but it was the sentiment that counted.
“If I tell you to run, Dan,” the dog whispered over one shoulder. “You do it. Think about all those kids up there. The ones playing with toys and eating Froyo. If something happens to me, it’ll be sad. If something happens to you, everything we’ve built will die.”
I’d known Croc long enough to tell that there was no reasoning with it. But Temperance was smarter than that.
“Temperance,” I urged under my breath, “you don’t need to do this.”
She shrugged, her floppy bunny ears bouncing a little from the movement. “Croc’s right. Besides, I won’t run from a fight.” She smiled and twirled her meat cleaver with a flourish. “Especially not one that promises to be so much fun.”
“This is very sweet, truly,” the woman said, “but you’re all being very dramatic for no reason. As I said, I have no intention of harming you. Surely you must realize that if I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done so already. Or do you doubt I have the power to dispatch the three of you just as easily as I dispatched the three of them?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “What I can say is that you haven’t given us much reason to trust you. Hell, you haven’t even told us who you are or what you want. Truth is, I don’t know a damned thing about you and as Croc always says, the number one survival rule in the Backrooms is to assume that everything, everywhere, all the time is both lying to you and trying to kill you.”
“That is a good rule of thumb,” she replied with a nod, “and one that you should follow more closely in the future. You’re getting stronger, but that strength is already leading you to be overconfident,” she chided, sounding almost disappointed in me. “You made assumptions, Dan. Dangerous assumptions that could’ve gotten you killed in a most untimely manner if my intentions weren’t pure as the driven snow. You took one look at me on those security monitors of yours and believed you were rushing in to help a wayward damsel in distress.”
The words immediately caught me off guard. I was positive this lady had never paid a visit to the store—the level cap alone would’ve kept her out—so how could she possibly have known about my security system? I wasn’t sure, but the implications were frightening.
“Admittedly, it was quite the heroic gesture,” she continued, “but foolish all the same. You’ve made waves, Dan. And even though you are a tiny, insignificant minnow swimming at the top of a very large pond, I can promise you that the monstrous fish below have finally taken notice.” She paused, crossed her arms, and leaned forward ever so slightly. “And I’m not just talking about the Flayed Monarch. All of them are watching, Dan. All of them.
“Moving forward, paranoia is your best friend. Trust nothing. No one. Although it is supremely unlikely that any of the Dark Lords and Ladies will waste their time accosting you directly, believe me when I say they will dispatch agents of their own. And I’m not talking about buzzing gnats like these worthless creatures.” She spit at the gory remains of an Aspirant. “Real emissaries with real power. You need to have a plan to kill everyone you meet and if you value your life, always be ready to run.” She shot Temperance a steady look. “Violence is admirable, but sometimes escape is the better part of valor, darling.”
“So is that what you are?” I asked, licking my lips and feeling more unsure of myself by the moment. “An emissary to some powerful faction?”
She dropped her hands to her sides, lifted her dress, and fell into a small courtesy.
“Indeed, I am. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to disclose my true identity nor disclose the identity of my employer, but it would be wise for you to assume that they are very formidable and not at all someone you would want to cross. Especially not when you have already made so very many powerful enemies.”
Screw me sideways.
That could only mean she worked for one of the Sovereigns who ruled on the lower floors. That narrowed the possibilities dramatically. From what I’d learned, there were seven Sovereigns, each with the powers of a small-g god.
The Lord of Coin, Dark Geppetto, and the Iron Tyrant. The Sorority Queen of Kappa Nu Theta and, who ruled over the Badland Boys down on floor seven hundred and thirteen. And, of course, the Flayed Monarch of the Skinless Court and the Boundless Wanderer—who was the only Sovereign without a kingdom to speak of.
The only question was, who did this lady owe allegiance to? It could’ve been any of them, even the Flayed Monarch—though that seemed less like. It was impossible to say with any sort of certainty.
“As for me, well you may simply call me the Director. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that secrecy does make it rather difficult to form a meaningful relationship,” she confessed, “but there are certain protocols which must be followed. Confidences kept. What I can tell you, however, is that I truly am here with the best of intentions. That’s why I killed this filth.” The word dripped with venom and contempt. “To prove my trustworthiness. And that’s also why I waited to see what you would do before I acted. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t all some game. Needless to say, you passed the test.”
I was quiet for a minute as I thought, turning her words over in my head. Examining them from different angles. I couldn’t see this lady’s level, which probably meant she was exactly as powerful as she implied, and though she radiated crazy even more strongly than Temperance, she hadn’t actually done anything to hurt us. Just the opposite. And I was certain she could’ve hurt us had she wanted too. Sure, she was being cagey and paranoid, but everyone in the Backrooms was at least a little cagey and paranoid.
You had to be if you wanted to survive for any appreciable length of time.
Maybe this was bullshit and maybe she was lying through her teeth, but what did it hurt to hear her out?
“Okay,” I finally said, “let’s say, just for the sake of argument, that I believed you. That you really are here to help us. How exactly would you do that?”
Instead of just giving me a straightforward answer, she replied with a question. “Do you know what a proxy war is?” she asked.
“Is that where you fight with glue?” Croc asked, cocking its head to one side. “Because I’ve seen what the human glue traps on the ninth floor are capable of and it is not pretty, believe you me.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of epoxy,” I corrected. “A proxy war is when someone more powerful gets someone less powerful to do their dirty work so they can keep their hands clean. Like the Soviets did in the 60s with the Viet Cong.” I scratched my chin. “If I remember correctly, that didn’t work out so well for the VC.”
“That is an awful cynical view of things,” the Director said, “but not altogether wrong. I prefer to frame it as an alternative to open warfare between large superpowers. Yes, people still die, but generally fewer people—”
I snorted. “You can call it manure all you want, but I know bullshit when I smell it. In proxy wars, lots of people still die, they’re just not important people like you or your boss. It’s poor disposable shmucks like me, who don’t matter in the big picture. People who you can use and throw away once you’re finished with ’em.”
“Very cynical indeed, but not altogether wrong,” she admitted. “As I said, you are a minnow, but one with the potential to grow into a shark. Because of your unique situation, you have become a grand inconvenience to the Flayed Monarch. I think it is safe to tell you that my employer detests the Monarch and their filthy, disgusting, ilk even more than you do.
“Due to politics, however, they cannot openly move against the Skinless Court. Not yet anyway.” She grinned and traced a fingernail along her bottom lip as she watched me. Appraised me. “Your continued success may change. Still, my employer must move with caution. There is a tenuous balance of power between the Sovereigns and should my employer act in haste, it could invite incursions and reprisals.”
“So Dan was right,” Temperance said flatly. “This master of yours wants us to do your dirty work. Sounds like a bad deal for us.”
“On the contrary,” the Director replied. “Yes, your involvement certainly would strength my employer’s position, it will also greatly increase your own power and standing. Which is something you badly need. Although you have made some admirable strides, Dan, make no mistake, the Monarch is mobilizing his forces, and you are running out of time. Soon it won’t be level 16 Acolytes loitering on your stoop, it will be level 60 outer disciples. Or level 100 court nobles. You won’t survive what is coming—not as you are.”
“If what you’re saying is true,” I said, “then why aren’t these hard hitters already knocking on my door?”
“Time, Dan,” she replied with missing a beat. Her eyes flashed to my chest, and for the first time I noticed her irises were a deep purple. Had they always been that color, or had they changed at some point? I wasn’t sure. My head felt a little… fuzzy, though. “You have something very valuable that belongs to the Monarch,” she said slowly. “Something that has effectively crippled his empire.
“As a result, his forces have been unable to freely navigate the Backrooms in the way they once could. Since you’re not an idiot, I assume you can read between the lines and understand why that might be. Even for powerful Delvers, it takes a great deal of time to move from the 999th to the seventh. But they are coming. Day by day they draw closer. And unless you are significantly stronger than you are now, you will die when they arrive. Which is why I’m here.”
She slowly made her way toward my kiosk then rested a hand against the counter.
“What do you know about these?” she asked. “About the Kiosk Network?”
I shrugged. “I know they serve as trade hubs and that they’re all owned by someone or something called the Franchisor.”
The Director beamed. “That’s more than most, though far from the whole picture. As I mentioned, you have effectively crippled the Skinless Court’s logistical capabilities. To make up for this painful shortcoming,” she continued, “the Monarch and his forces have been relying on the Kiosk Network to handle supply chain issues. The Monarch is using the Auction House System as his own personal supply depot, transferring vast stores of resources between floors.
“That, however, is not the only thing the Court is using the Network for. Although it is not common knowledge, the Kiosk Network is not just metaphysical in nature. It can also serve as a transit system, allowing those who know how to use it to quickly travel between floors. Although the Franchisor’s layer in of the on the fiftieth floor, the Network extends all the way to floor three hundred.”
“You want us to kill the Franchisor and further cripple the Monarch,” I said, seeing exactly where this conversation was going.
“You aren’t nearly as dumb as you look,” she said.
“Everyone keeps telling me that,” I muttered, running a hand along the stubble on my jaw.
“Okay, but if this boss of yours wants to kill the Franchisor, why not just do it himself?” I asked. “Or send you to do it? You seem more than capable enough.”
“Politics,” she replied again. “Just as my master wishes to use you as a proxy, so too is the Franchisor a proxy for another powerful faction. A man called the Lord of Coins. His Lordship has a tenuous truce with my employer and the Network has made the Lord of Coins an extremely wealthy man. Needless to say, he would not be pleased if my employer were to intervene directly. It could spark open conflict which would get messy for everyone.”
“But if we do it,” I muttered, “then your boss has plausible deniability.”
“Umm maybe I’m missing something, Dan,” Croc said, “but doesn’t that mean if you kill the Franchisor, you’ll make another powerful enemy?”
“Yeah,” I said, “and I’m betting that’s a feature, not a bug. They need a fall guy. We’re it.”
Honestly, it was a clever scheme, in its way.
By helping us, this lady’s boss would strengthen their own position, actively hurt the Skinless Court, and knock another competing fraction down a peg. The catch was, doing so would inadvertently make me a shitload more powerful, but they could counterbalance my growth by giving me a dangerous new enemy in the process. It was an elaborate Rube Goldberg machine of checks and balances, designed to make sure her faction ended up on top.
“In the Backrooms, you don’t keep power for long unless you have a shrewd mind,” the Director said by way of answer, “and my employer has been in power for a very, very long time. Yes, going after the Franchisor is a risk. Yes, you are courting trouble with the Lord of Coins, but failing to act now is as good as a death sentence. When you find yourself falling off the edge of a cliff, you grab for whatever lifeline you can, even if that lifeline is serpent coiled among the rocks.
“I am just such a serpent,” she said with a feral grin. “I’ve deposited several items within your kiosk.” She absently trailed a finger along an empty shelf. “Although I cannot overtly help you for what should be obvious reasons, these items should help tip the balance in your favor should you choose to take my advice and expand your own budding kingdom by taking out the Franchisor.
“Within, you’ll find a map of the physical kiosk network, which will allow you to reach the Franchisor’s layer in record time, and a powerful Artifact that will aid you when you finally confront the creature. There is also a unique and very potent Relic. Although it is formidable in its own right, my employer instructed me to inform you that its true potential shines when forged with any other mind-based Relic. There is an accompanying Fable-grade sigil stone, that should help as well.”
“And you’re just going to give these items to us?” Temperance asked, sounding as suspicious as I felt.
The woman laughed. It was tinkle of breaking glass. “What is astonishing to you, isn’t worth getting out of bed in the morning for someone like my employer. These are baubles and a very small price to pay, when considering the potential return on investment.” She offered me a Cheshire cat grin that seemed to reach from ear to ear, then shrugged. “And if you chose not to pursue the Franchisor, it’s no skin off my teeth. It’s not my life on the line.
“Besides, I have faith that you’ll do the right thing, Dan. By which I mean the thing that serves your own self-interest. You’re both too smart and too desperate to do anything else.” She paused, and absently tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind one ear. “Just one final word of caution. The Franchisor is powerful. Level 65 according to my sources. You’ll need to be strong to face him. Much, much stronger than you are now. I wouldn’t even make the attempt until you’ve hit level fifty, and even then, you’ll need a team. One you can trust.”
“I appreciate the insight,” I said, and meant it. “Maybe I can return the favor and offer you a piece of advice.”
That seemed to pique her curiosity. “Really?” she said. “Do tell.”
“Proxy wars have a tendency to come back and bite people in the ass. In 1986 the US provided the Mujahideen weapons to fight the Russians and instead they’ve been using those weapons against us ever since. I lost more than a few friends in Afghanistan to weapons our government gave to those sons of bitches.”
“And your point is?” the Director asked not ruffled in the least.
“My point is that proxies aren’t pawns. I’m not gonna say no to free Relics or intel, but you tell your boss that they can’t buy me. If your employer comes after me or mine, I won’t hesitate to nuke their ass from orbit if I have the means to do so.”
The Director smiled. “We would expect nothing less from the infamous Discount Dan. Let us just pray it never comes to that. I would so hate for you to end up like them.” She gestured toward the pile of bodies.
