Valknar
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New Midian
🕑 Added 2024-12-25 08:41:09 +0000 UTCAuthors note - This is a side project I have been working on. I am publishing the first few chapters for all to see and would welcome any thoughts and feedback. Count this as a warning s well if you are easily offended I do not hold back from difficult subjects!
Prologue
2040
Two fighter jets tore through the clear sky, and Gaberial, with a steely resolve, resisted the urge to flinch as they streaked past, flying perilously low. Their thunderous passage sent shockwaves through her, but she marched on, projecting an air of belonging. Few around her bothered to glance upwards. They were more used to this than her.
All around her, the military was fortifying their established containment area. She knew that time was ticking, and soon, the perimeter would be impenetrable, cutting her off from the story of the century—perhaps even altering history.
Clad in the military fatigues she had acquired, she seamlessly blended in with the crowd. Her military pack concealed her non-military gear and the hat shielded her from unwanted attention. She fervently hoped that she was perceived as just another technician going about her business along the perimeter. She had a distance to walk to get here. She had gotten through the checkpoint at a run-down gas station a little further down the road.
She could see the old stone walls with plants growing up them, with the infamous gate slightly open. Her mouth was dry and her nerves were on edge, fear gripping her heart, but she pressed on. A three-layer defence guarded the perimeter. First, razor wire surrounded the walls at about a three-meter distance. The local forest had been cut back in many areas to allow this. Next were the recently set-up flood lights, placed at regular intervals and, when lit, gave no point of unlit area. Finally, a whole company of heavily armed soldiers stood watching the site they were blockading. They were spread around the length of the perimeter at set intervals.
She knew that further back, they were organising an entire armoured battalion. Rumour was that the US Government was planning a full assault on the site after the disastrous joint Federal Law Enforcement raid.
This was turning into a whole military encampment that was looking to stay for a while. Tents were multiplying all around, and communication masts sprouted from the closet to the perimeter. She could hear the radio chatter around her from different sources. There was a running joke online that it was not who was trying to run this in the Government but who was not.
Checking her watch, she noticed that she only had a few more minutes before the distraction she had placed triggered. She had to move faster. There would only be a brief window of opportunity.
Walking more purposefully, she moved faster towards the gap in the razor wire before the gates. According to rumours, the government had been trying to communicate with the person or thing running the site but had failed so far.
The guards were not paying attention to her facing the gates.
Any minute now, she thought. It was make-or-break time.
Behind her, the timer reached zero, and the combined firecrackers and smoke bombs went off near a tent where she had hidden them. This drew everyone's attention, and cries of alarm were heard quickly.
The three guards at the gap looked around, weapons ready, and looked towards the tents as she passed, seeming to walk to the right. The guards shifted away from their positions to understand better what was happening.
She had to move now.
Turning, she sprinted past the razor wire towards the gate.
“Hey, you. Halt!”
“Perimeter breach!”
“Someone running for the gates!”
She heard these and others as she ran at her best forward. She prayed under her breath as her lungs burned from the abuse, she was putting them through. Fear and adrenaline pushed her legs to move faster—her heartbeat soon, thunder in her ears.
“Halt or we will open fire!” A loudspeaker behind her called out, but she kept going.
No bullets came.
She reached the gates and tripped as she passed through them.
She skidded across the stone and stopped breathing hard, realising she had made it. She was briefly euphoric that she understood… she had made it. Fear quickly returned and she sat up and looked around.
She was in a courtyard-like area with a plinth at the end and two paths leading away north and south. The day was ending, and the shadows from the mountains were beginning to cover the area, so she stood and looked upon…. a city of graves.
“By the blessed Mary, what is this place?” She had expected something, but not this. She lapsed into a stunned silence.
“Impressive, is it not?”
The voice to her immediate left made her jump. One moment, she was alone, and then a man stood there.
“Jesus Christ!” She exclaimed, startled as she stumbled back from him.
“Not quite.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
Gaberial took a few seconds to collect herself, and she knew who or what stood before her. What she saw was a man around six feet five inches tall, broad, with short brown hair and a similarly cut beard. He was dressed in a jet-black tailored suit with a red shirt and black tie. He spoke with a deep voice and with a slight British accent.
Oh yes, she knew him.
“Y-your him.” She stammered, still recovering from the shock and the sprint to get here. On the perimeter, she could hear a lot of movement. The flood light suddenly came on, pouring light through the gates. The intense, harsh light made her squint as equally dark shadows were formed by the light.
“Last time I checked, I was, me.” With his answer, he smiled slightly, totally unfazed by the chaos her arrival was causing or the light nearly blinding her. “But to business first, my dear. What brings you to my humble abode?”
Gaberial took a few seconds to collect herself and stood straighter.
“I am Gaberial Santez of the Independent Press Corp and I would like to interview you!”
Her statement caused a reaction she did not expect; he laughed loud and heartily. She felt a bit deflated and hurt at his response.
“A reporter! Well, I have not had one of your ilk come through here in a few years.” He said, recovering himself. Amusement still in his voice and on his face. “Why, pray tell, do you wish this, Miss Santez?”
Gaberial was unsure if she was now being mocked; before her, it was the biggest story in the country and possibly the planet.
“I am a reporter and that is what I do. Find a story and tell it!” She answered, knowing it was true because she believed in what she did. The figure before her looked at her for a few seconds and nodded slightly to himself.
“An interview, no.” He said, making her sick at all she had to do to get this far. “But my story, I will give you.”
This caused her to perk up and fill her chest with hope. Maybe it had not all been in vain.
“I take it you have the means to record this conversation?”
“Yes, I have a satellite uplink kit in my bag, along with my smartphone and a battery pack that will last for ten hours.” She had come prepared. The man again nodded.
“Do you plan to livestream our conversation to the world?”
“Through the uplink, yes. If we are jammed, then my phone will record everything anyway.”
“I see you have planned this out. Very well. Set up your uplink just outside the gates. Will you need to stay attached to it for transmission?”
“No, I have a three-meter cable. Why may I ask?” This request confused her. Surely, they could transmit from here or further in.
“Take a moment and truly look at this place.” He motioned his arm further into the site. Gaberial did as she was asked, and a few minutes later, it dawned on her what he was telling her to see.
“Wait, that’s not…”
“I assure you it is. Please follow my instructions.” She staggered a little as she unslung her pack and fumbled for the clasps while still looking at the sight before her. The man just waited.
Gaberial pulled her attention away and began setting up her uplink. She unpacked it and started attaching the parts together. Testing the unit, it pinged her phone. It was operational, and she placed it just outside the gates.
Several voices called on her to leave the site and return to the perimeter, but she ignored them. Attaching the cable to her phone, she returned to the figure who had just passively watched everything she was doing. The sound of a gong striking was her alert setting, which drew her attention to the phone that told her that the uplink had been established.
Dozens of messages suddenly began appearing from friends, colleagues and family. She had been out of contact for a few days. She snapped a quick photograph of the figure and sent a message to her boss with the simple line, “Made it.” She got a reply seconds later that the servers were ready. A tripod was set up, and her phone was attached to it. The floodlights were causing no end of problems, but the autofocus features were relined to get the best image possible.
“Before we start, can I ask you a question?” She asked hesitantly.
“You may, but be warned, I may not answer it, or then again I might.” The slight smile was back on his face.
“Are you a demon?” She knew it was a stupid question, but her catholic upbringing was playing its part. He paused before answering.
“To some, an angel to others.” The smile was still there, and she felt he was laughing at a private joke she did not understand. Her phone notified her that the transmission uplink was ready causing her to focus on it. She pressed record and moved into the frame with the man. She put on her professional face. This was going to make or break her. She took a few steady breaths before beginning. A beep told her to start.
“This is Gaberial Santez from the IPC reporting live from within the Idaho exclusion zone. I am here with the figure from the earlier federal raid, who is identified as the individual who runs this site. You identified yourself then as the Keeper. Is that your name?”
“Name and role, I am afraid.”
“I had asked to interview you, but you have instead decided to give me your story, so can you please begin? But I will interject with questions if I feel it is warranted.”
The man's smile was still there; he was partially facing her and the phone camera like her.
“Well, it all started while I thought I was dreaming….”
Chapter 1
Am I dreaming?
The sky was blue, with little clouds and tall grass around me. In the distance, I could make out mountains and trees over the grass. It seemed like summertime wherever I was. The sun was low on the horizon, indicating it was morning, as it was still crossing the sky.
I could hear bird songs in the distance. It was sometimes loud, indicating that it was closer by then.
I was confused and disoriented. This was the first coherent thought I have had. Mentally, I felt like I had been beaten up and had the worst hangover ever. Foggy was best to describe it, but at the same time, hyper-aware. I had no idea where I was or how I got here.
No, this was no dream.
I tried to move but could not. This caused me to try to focus faster.
Where was I?
This was another question that came to me as I began to focus more.
Was I lying down?
My memories then were coming back but were still fragmented. They were flooding my mind, distracting me. I remembered people but not their faces. Places and dates come and go strangely not relevant for some reason. My love for horror books and films, along with city-building computer games, these two subjects were clear, but all the others were confused.
Should I not be freaking out? I think I should be.
My emotions are fuzz and distant—another strange thing. Almost removed.
Knowing I should have been able to move but could not was another disturbing thing. Again, still not freaking out.
I tried to put my hands up to my face. Nothing.
Panic should be the emotion I should be feeling. Was I being restrained?
I began to test wh….
Initialising……..
A screen appeared in front of my vision. I was startled but quickly confused again. It was a blue screen. Why was this strangely familiar? Then I thought.
“Initialising, what?”
I asked this out loud but then realised I had not even spoken. Ok, I really should be freaking out now, or I should stop thinking I need to be, as it appears I have no control of anything right now.
The message on the blue screen changed.
Welcome Dungeon Keeper!
As a new Keeper, you must select from the list that will be supplied to establish your new Dungeon. These choices are permanent and cannot be changed!
“Dungeon Keeper? Like the games?”
Whatever was happening was ignoring me or was fully automated.
But first!
Congratulations!
You have been chosen as a new Dungeon Keeper. Upon your death, your soul was identified as being able to perform this complex and challenging job.
Embark on a thrilling journey as your soul is encapsulated within a Dungeon Core and transported to a different era and Earth. Your mission: to construct a realm that will test the mettle of the mortals in this world.
Due to the unique fact that most Earths have very little natural magic that creates monsters, you will need to recruit the only ones available: monsters with the faces of men!
They will be the Hunters within your territory. But fear not! You will see their true faces under your influence along with a little time as they kill to make you stronger!
You may even be lucky enough to acquire some special Hunters along the way!
So, choose wisely and create your future!
“What? Era? New Earth? …. Hold on, I died!”
I was just confused now and more than a little afraid.
The screen changed again, presenting me with more information.
Wait! I hear you ask, but what is a Dungeon Keeper and this new shiny Core I inhabit?
Well, young Keeper, both are excellent questions!
We will go one further and give you another: what is a Dungeon?
Well, get ready for the answers!
“Not what I was asking, but they are good quest….”
The pain hits me like a sledgehammer to the head.
My vision goes white from it.
As suddenly as it happens, it ends—my vision returns.
I now know the answers to those questions.
Dungeons are areas controlled by a Dungeon Keeper. As stated, they challenge all who enter to a deadly contest against my Hunters. If the challenger wins, they receive a “reward”. The nature of the contest is different from Dungeon to Dungeon. The reward granted is unique to each challenger and scales with the Dungeon.
As for being a Dungeon Keeper, I now know how to access my menu screen and move my point of focus around. I can offer contracts to potential Hunters and am required to manage them along with their needs. I can interact with my Dungeon physically, and this increases as I become more powerful. Finally, I can take a limited form through my avatar, but this has limits and restrictions on what I can do. This form levels, as I do, allowing me to do more as my avatar improves.
My Core is my body, the control point for the Dungeon and its power source. If it is removed, the Dungeon collapses, and I will suffer a “fate worse than the hells” if it is destroyed. There is no further explanation for that.
There was another warning that if I failed to perform the role of the Dungeon Keeper, I would suffer the fate of Core destruction.
“All makes sense, but….”
The screen changes again. It was definitely automated, whatever was happening.
Dungeon theme options:
Ancient mansion and grounds.
Abandon hamlet.
Deserted farm.
Graveyard.
For more information, please say information(option).
When you have made your final choice, please say: I chose(option).
I read over the options that appear and something about the last one speaks to me. The others are interesting and I will investigate them.
“Information graveyard.”
Graveyard.
It’s a classic for a reason.
You start off with a square mile of a basic graveyard. From here it will be up to you what you do with it!
What will you build?
Great Keepers in the past have turned such humble beginnings into great necropolis that stood for ages!
Why did the Graveyard interest me so?
Well, the last part drove it home for me. In 1988, Clive Barker published the novella Cabal, which was turned into the 1990 film Nightbreed. I remember watching the movie as a teenager years later and being entranced. The idea of a necropolis inhabited by “monsters” inspired me to read other works by King, Poe and Lovecraft.
This also fuelled my film-watching. I have seen almost all the films, from slasher to torture horror. I leaned toward the more psychological films over the standard slasher fare but respected the well-made ones of any type. Inadvertently, this was expressed through my computer game choices. I shied away from first-person shooters to city builders and horror.
Now, before me, the option to build such a city of my own seemed too good to be true!
I want to select it straight away! But to contain my excitement, I checked out the other options. The mansion will allow me to create a sprawling building on extensive grounds. The hamlet could grow into a village and then a town. As to the farm, it was similar to the mansion. All options had exciting possibilities, but the graveyard was colouring my thoughts.
“I chose Graveyard.”
Congratulations!
You have chosen the Graveyard option for your Dungeon.
Next, you will need to select several perks for your Dungeon. These will allow you to personalise your Dungeon.
“Ok. I wonder what the….”
Perk Choices!
Every choice you make is crucial, as its permanent and will shape your Dungeons future. Keep in mind, not all perks listed will reappear in future as new ones will take their place.
You, Keeper, can select four perks to add to the one that has been assigned to your Dungeon.
The assigned perk is – Beacon (Assigned).
The list of perks is the following….
The list was very extensive, with two hundred-eight options. They were rated on a rarity scale and listed alphabetically. I started reading down the list, looking for things that would work well with my vision for what I wanted to create. Near the bottom, I found something that piqued my interest.
Spatial Folding (Mythical)
It is a genuinely unique ability for a Dungeon. The space occupied by the Dungeon is folded. This changes the shape of the area of your Dungeon to a sphere that will not change. From the outside, the Dungeon appears as it was when it was first established. Inside the “bubble”, the Dungeon can be many times larger than the space it occupies.
This perk scales with your Dungeon level.
“Bloody hell! That’s amazing!”
If I was reading this right, this means that my Dungeon will not grow beyond the first-mile size, but inside the bubble, the size is linked to my Dungeon’s level. This means I could have a ten-mile-wide Dungeon hidden in the bubble if I reach a certain level!
That would screw with the minds of most! In the end, it was a no-brainer.
“I chose Spatial Folding.”
I returned to the list. Several options caught my eye, and I considered them.
Walls (Common)
It says what it is with the name. You gain a fifteen-foot wall around the boundaries of your claimed area. One gate is automatically assigned with others created as you need them.
“Not scalable then, just walls with a gate.”
I had to think about this one. It gave me a limited defence and could trap those hunted within my Dungeon. The downside was that I would be easy to spot, most likely clearly showing my location.
I was a defensive player in most strategy games, so…
“I chose Walls.”
Back to the list, I had my eye on the last two options, both in the M section. But first, I found Beacon. It's time to find out what it did.
Beacon (Assigned)
One of the most important things for a Dungeon!
Here's how the Beacon works: it's your key to attracting Hunters and Challengers. Without it, you'll be invisible in the world.
They will feel a pull and see your Dungeon in their dreams. The Hunters will be shown how to seek a contract. The Challengers will be shown the conditions of completing your Dungeon.
This perk scales with your Dungeon level.
Reading over it, I was less annoyed at losing a perk slot to it. Actually, I thought it was a good one for one of my last two possible choices.
Maze (Uncommon)
The paths and layout of your Dungeon are designed to confuse and disorientate. This perk will heavily influence the layout of your Dungeon removing your ability to rearrange it to your wishes.
This perk scales with your level.
Mausoleums (Common)
Tombs, resting places for the dead or lairs for Hunters, call them what you wish; it’s up to you how they are used.
Hunters can use them as homes/lairs within your Dungeon. In time, they will personalise them to their tastes. This will make most happier to live within your Dungeon improving loyalty.
This perk has ten levels that will need to be bought when levelling.
Both options most attracted me. Sure, there were others, like crypts, but I was gambling that it and the others would still be present when I got my next perk. I did not like gambling, but I felt these were the best options to get started.
I chose them and a new screen message appeared.
Congratulations!
You have chosen the Graveyard option for your Dungeon and your four Perks.
Next, you will need to understand what your Hunters are and how to manage them!
“Shit, Dose this m….”
White blinding pain.
When I recovered, I knew everything I needed about Hunters.
Hunters were my means of growth, defence and limited scouting—the last part surprised me. When a Hunter is accepted into my service through the contract, we become bound by it. They must obey my commands, but I would need to be careful as some might take offence to what I had them do. Treating them too badly could void the contract. I also had to see to their basic needs, which would differ for each Hunter.
In my service, the Hunter becomes semi-immortal. They are not affected by age and will “hibernate” when not needed or performing tasks. They do not need food and drink, as my core sustains them, but they can still partake if they desire. They acquire a kill count that triggers their levelling when it reaches a set number, which, in turn, rests the count. The Hunter could die and this could happen at any time they receive fatal wounds. The Hunter would be resurrected, but with a cost. The first is the loss of their recorded kills. If this is at zero, then they start losing levels and gained Perks. When level zero is reached, then they face permanent death. Another death penalty is that they would need to rebuild and levels they lose before progressing again. This is the same mechanic that I use to level without the resurrecting part.
The longer a Hunter is in service the more it will be changed by me as it levels. All Hunters have Dark Traits that will grow and change through their actions. Their physical forms would also change to represent this. A Hunter will be able to leave the Dungeon to scout or perform tasks, but the time away will become shorter the higher their level.
Hunters are assigned to territories in my Dungeon that they will engage any who enter. By their nature, Hunters do not get along; as they level, they become less tolerant of other Hunters but will work together when I need them to.
“That strangely all makes sense.”
I thought back to all the horror films I had watched with the near or unkillable bad guy. The Hunter resurrection mechanic would account for a lot of this, so I will need to be careful and not throw them recklessly into every fight.
Nearly done!
You have chosen the Graveyard option for your Dungeon and your four Perks. You know about Hunters and how to level yourself and them.
The last two things are the creation of your Dungeon and naming it.
To start creation, say: Begin.
To go back and change anything, say: Options.
I looked at my choices in my mind. They looked good overall. Sure, I still had a few concerns, but I could not stay like this forever. The sun was high in the sky, indicating that the day was passing.
“Begin.”
Everything went black. I felt a surge of panic, but the blue screen reappeared.
Name your Dungeon, Keeper.
This is your last task!
I knew what it would be from the minute I selected the Graveyard option. I took the name of the city that inspired this Dungeon and added a minor twist.
“New Midian.”
My vision went white again and the box disappeared.
Slowly, my vision returned, and the sight around me became very different.
It was like looking through my eyes again, but I knew this was not true. I sensed my Core below me; I was on something. Looking down, I could see a rough stone slab. Turning my sight back up, I could make out the room I was in. The light was coming through several stained-glass windows, covering the room with different colours. From the position of the sunlight that was coming in, it appeared much later in the day.
The blue box distracted me with its appearance.
Congratulations!
The Dungeon of New Midian has been created!
Your challenger requirement to succeed is the following:
Due to your choices, the challengers to your Dungeon will need to place a sacrifice on the alter during the night hours. Then, when this is done, they must make it to the gates and leave after dawn.
The following message will be placed at the entrance.
“To claim the reward.
Travel to the Church of the Angel.
In the hours of the moonlight, place your sacrifice upon the altar.
As dawn light touches the gates, be free to leave this place.
If you do, you will be more than you were.
But beware the those who dwell here.”
You are now finished. Show us what you are capable of!
“Eh?”
The last part of the message through me a bit.
“Who is the “us”?”
I got no answer and felt alone now. The blue boxes strangely gave me the feeling that I was being watched, which I did not realise until they were gone.
I continued to look around. I knew I was in sight mode, which allowed me to move freely around my Dungeon grounds. I could not be impeded by anything in this area.
The building I was in was a roughly constructed church. The layout and the large statue of the classical Western depiction of the Grim Reaper with wings were behind the altar. The statue was remarkably well carved from a good-quality marble of some type. It stood above the altar with its hooded head angled down, facing the altar. It held an open book in its left hand and a scythe in its right.
“This must be the centre of the Dungeon then.”
I was talking to myself, as no one else could speak to me. I could sense my Core was inside the altar.
It was time to explore, starting with this building.
It was rough, not baldly constructed and looked solid. It was a single, long room with large wooden doors facing the altar. There were a few pews made from wood along each side. Three large stained-glass windows on each side were built into each wall. With the light coming in, they must face west and east, making the doors on the north side and the altar on the south.
Two large urns were on each side of the altar. Passing through them, I found them both empty and made of clay. On the wall to the right of the altar was a long wooden plaque covering more than two-thirds of it. It was blank apart from the word “Invictus” engraved on the top.
“What is this for?”
The floor was made of stone slabs, and the roof was made of flint tile with exposed wooden beams. A small tower contained a bell. The strange thing about the bell was that it had no capper inside, meaning it made no sound.
“Outside then.”
As I had no physical form to restrict me, I had chosen a different way to exit the building. I went up through the roof of the bell tower, stopping about a meter above it and looked around.
I looked upon the beginnings of a planned necropolis and found…. Not a lot.
I had a few mausoleums and a lot of gravestones, a few statues and trees.
That was pretty much it.
“Well, I had hoped for more.”
I had to remind myself that I was starting out at level 1 and so things would be crappy until I got things going. In the distance, I could see the wall surrounding the area I controlled. Evenly spaced along the wall, a round pillar stood just taller than the wall with a gargle statue kneeling, looking out.
“Ok, that’s cool.”
I could see the gate to the east and went over to it. It was between two pillars and made of cast iron bars. In each was fashioned the image of the Angel of Death profile facing each other within the gates. The tops of the bars were spikes.
In front of the gates within the Dungeon was a small, paved area with a path heading north and another heading south. A plinth with the message about claiming the reward offered here was also there. The paths' stones were cobblestone but well-made and sturdy.
I followed the paved paths and found that the Maze perk had arranged them into a… well, a maze. It was not very impressive and simple to work out. You could cut through the gravestones to bypass large sections. Hopefully, this will change in time. The paths were organised into circles or rings but had turnings that led to dead ends. A handful of trees were scattered around, which was a bit of a surprise as I had envisioned a graveyard without them.
The graveyard's style was high Gothic Victorian. Some of the mausoleums, mainly those with pillars on the front, had Roman/Greek architectural elements. Overall, I was happy; I just needed to get some Hunters in here to get things rolling.
The daylight was nearly gone as the sun was setting behind the mountains—time enough for one last thing.
I moved my point of view to the top of the spatial bubble around the Dungeon and looked out at the world. Forests are all around the north and south, especially mountains to the distant west, and plains to the east. I could make out a track to the east at the edge of the forest, running parallel with a river that cut along the edge of the woods. To the northeast, I think I can make out several smoke trails from buildings? It was hard to tell as they were over a rise I could not see past.
“Well, it looks like I just wait now.”
Chapter 2
Day seven had just dawned as I looked over my Dungeon. The sunlight is passing over the walls of my little domain, finally driving the last deep shadows away from most of the area.
I had hoped things would have moved a bit faster, but I am not that lucky.
In my free time, which was all of it, I experimented and ventured into different sections of the Dungeon, a place of unknown origin and strange phenomena. The air was heavy with a sense of foreboding, and the walls seemed to whisper secrets.
I had discovered a few things that worried and perplexed me; now I had to add how I was thinking about this place it seemed. Whispered secrets… seriously? Was the lack of any interactions getting to me?
“I do not remember my name.”
This was the first thing that tied into another issue of my memories. I had tried to remember, but the more I sought it, the more it slipped away. This was the same for the rest of my memories. Unless they were linked or were focused on things relating to the entertainment I enjoyed, I encountered the same issue while trying to focus on them.
Everything was disjoined and strangely blurred. Names, faces, and locations were all hard to pin down. I am sure that I was male and lived in Britain, but beyond this, it was too hard to understand. This was added to the emotional distance I felt strongly, indicating that they were being suppressed or altered. I should be mad or afraid, but I am mostly calm as I have no control over it and cannot change it. I am aware of it and will continue testing ideas to get them all back.
Next was a bit more mundane but just as strange to me.
“The graves are all blank.”
Every tomb and grave marker did not indicate if anyone was buried there. No names or dates were ordained on a single stone surface. On the third day, I checked the ground and tombs and found they were all empty. There were no bodies or even hints that anyone had ever been buried in any of them.
The statues and faces carved onto some tombs were also not what I expected. It was subtle, and I did not see it initially, but they were all disturbing somehow. The angels were looking away or had their eyes covered. The cherubs were not smiling but leering or sneering. There were also a large number of grinning devil faces and snarling gargoyles.
This brought me to my next discovery.
“There are no insects or other animals.”
I had not seen a single bug or animal. At first, I thought it was due to the sudden appearance of my Dungeon, which had rightly freaked out the local wildlife population. I had even left the gate open for a few nights to see if I could attract anything in. It was not until the fifth day that I understood why nothing was approaching. A bird flew in low and reached the wall and the spatial bubble edge, and well…... it was not pretty.
The bird was caught in the bubble and visibly contorted violently as it was killed, explaining the lack of wildlife.
While exploring, I discovered that the church doors have the word “Sanctuary” carved into the stone above them.
This brought me to my last realisation from these first few days.
“I am not on the side of the angels.”
Thinking back over the blue screens, along with the options and language used, it was pretty clear now. This place was designed to kill people, and it was my job to make it as efficient as possible. Was I now just a low-level manager?
Now, that was a disturbing thought.
These and a few other things occupied my mind as I passed the time. My favourite was positioning my sight at the top of the spatial bubble. I got a good look around at my environment. The boxes said I had been moved to a different era and Earth. I had been thinking a lot about that.
“Does it mean I am in a parallel reality or a different time within my reality?”
My view of the outside world showed me a healthy and vibrant environment. Is this the past or the distant future? The lack of signs of global collapse through war or other disasters was absent. Nor were the signs of advanced technology. The “road” near me was a dirt track, which I had not seen any traffic along yet. Sure, I could not see it entirely, but it crossed the river and led up the rise to the community over on the other side. I was now sure there were people over there.
I also tried out my avatar function. When activated, I gained a human body or the appearance of one. I could not feel anything I touched or smelled and even tried eating something, which failed. Looking down, I found I was dressed in a tailored black suit with a blood-red shirt and black tie. Black dress shoes finished off the outfit. My hands showed that the avatar was Caucasian, and I felt my face; I had a beard. I had no decent reflecting surface to get a good look at my features. The stained-glass windows showed a man in his mid-thirties.
Why this appearance? Was it how I once looked?
I had moved some things around, ranging from stones to a few grave markers, and I soon became mentally exhausted so severely that I had to stop.
I knew this improved as I levelled.
“Questions with more questions how…”
[Potential Hunter entering the Dungeon!]
“What?”
The message rolled across the bottom of my vision like a news channel feed, not in a blue box.
I move my sight to the gates. A man was opening them, but he was not alone. He had a horse and two pack mules with him. What gave me the idea the message was right were the two gagged and hog-tied women on the back of the two mules.
This warranted a closer examination!
The man, who was around five feet five inches tall, led the animals in a single file and walked with purpose. He was dressed in a long coat, a hat and several layers underneath. He was slightly hunched and had a sturdy build. It was hard for me to guess his age due to the unkempt beard he was sporting with shoulder-length greasy hair. From what I could see, his face was pox-marked, and his skin was weather-beaten. His eyes were brown, and he chewed something as he walked.
The whole look gave me a late 1800s Western Pioneer vibe.
Turning my attention to the women, I saw that they were terrified of their situation. On closer examination, their appearances hinted at their being related. Mother and daughter was my first guess. They were dressed in women's fashions of the same period as the clothing of their captor. They were whimpering and, from the tear tracks on their dirty faces, had been crying for some time. Given their situation, I would be surprised if they had not.
I spotted a handgun, along with the rifle in the saddle I could see, added to my impression of the possible time period. The rifle was covered, but the pistol looked like an early Colt from the cowboy films I had seen.
The man followed the pathways through the Dungeon without deviation to reach the Church. Standing before it, he paused for the first time and seemed surprised it was here. He smiled, and his teeth were yellow and stained by some brown substance. He turned and spat a glob of a brown substance onto the ground.
He had been slow and methodical approaching the Church, but now he had exploded into excited action. The two women were violently pulled from the mules and hit the ground hard. The doors to the room were opened, and the women were dragged inside. This elicited a new bout of crying and muffled screaming.
They tried to fight or move, but the restraints were too well attached in securing them. He dragged them to just before the altar and dropped them again.
Standing before it, he quickly removed his hat and held it to his chest with his left hand. He looked up at the statue behind it with awe and reverence, acting like this was a truly holy place to him.
With a surprising hesitation after his last actions, he stepped forward and slowly placed his hand on the altar.
[Potential Hunter: John Rigger. Has asked to become a Hunter in your Dungeon and offers two sacrifices to you.]
[Do you accept: Yes or No.]
What choice did I have? It was not like I had Hunters lining up to join up.
“Yes.”
Something then happened. My view of the world suddenly stretched and then snapped back. Something clicked into place in my mind, and I knew new things. John Rigger shimmered like a mirage and then became solid simultaneously. His smile increased in size, and he turned to the two women.
With practised ease, he pulled aside his coat and drew a bowie knife from its sheath. Both women were screaming now. He pulled the older one up. She tried to fight, but he pulled the blade across her throat. The bright red blood surges from the wound, spattering across herself and the altar, staining both. The other let out a primal howl of fear and grief.
[A Hunter has made a Kill]
Letting the body drop, he turned and pulled the younger up. She fought even harder, but he did the same to her.
[A Hunter has made a Kill]
“Thank ya, Keeper, for taking me in.” His voice was rough and coarse. The accent was American and strongly indicated a limited education.
“You're welcome,” I replied. He nodded at my words, and I knew he could hear me.
“Where can I store me wives and me possessions?”
Wait what? Wives?
“One moment.” He was collecting the bodies together. I opened his status screen in my mind. Now he was a Hunter in my Dungeon, I had access to it and my own now.
Hunter Name John Rigger
Level 1
Skills
Horse Riding. II
Blades. IV
Handguns. II
Rifles. III
Tracking. IV
Trap Making. II
Corpse Harvesting. II
Dark Traits
Necrophiliac
I quickly read through the screen. To the right was a headshot of Mr Rigger.
Necrophiliac!
What the honest FUCK!
I panicked a little, as I never expected this. Nevertheless, I made a decision.
“Take the building to the west, closet to the church.” He nodded and bent over, slinging the bodies of the two dead women over his shoulders with a grunt. He turned and began walking, blood seeping into his coat. I started checking things.
I selected his dark trait.
[Necrophiliac: It’s as bad as you think. They will be happy if the Hunter's needs are met. Do you want to know more?]
I chose ignorance on this, mainly for my own sanity. I need to clarify some things with my new Hunter. I travelled with him to his new home. He looked it over and spoke more to himself.
“Slept in worse. I’m thinking we be happy here, Cecilia.”
He opened the doors and placed the two bodies within. He then went back and collected the mules and horse. Who the hell was Cecilia?
“Rigger, we need to clarify some things.” I began to speak, and he tensed up. The contract stated I could add any additions I desired when I wanted. “First of all, what happens in your lair is your business as long as it stays there. I will not violate your privacy while you remember this.”
He nodded in understanding; he seemed relieved and happier.
“Next, your possessions are yours.” As the Keeper, I had the right to claim anything he owned. “But in future, all kills possessions will be divided as I see fit. Understood?”
“Understood.” Again, he seemed relieved.
“Any additional kills you make unless claimed as “wives” will be buried in the graveyard next to a gravestone unless instructed.” This made him pause.
“I get more wives?” He had pulled his hat off again when he asked this.
“If the opportunity arises, yes, you can. You can have as many as you like as long as it remains in your lair.” I wanted to scream hell no, you sick fuck! But the practical side of me was running the show. He broke out into an even bigger smile at my words.
“Oh, thank ya, Keeper, for such kindness!” I realise he is facing the chapel when he is speaking to me.
[Hunter: John Rigger's loyalty changed from Neutral > Good.]
“Last thing, let the animal go outside the bounds of the walls. You will not need them anymore.” He nods again as he places his hat back on. “Right, with that sorted out, I will leave you to get settled in. Tomorrow, I have a few tasks for you.”
I disconnected from him but continued to watch.
“Oh, Cecilia, nice fella, that Keeper!” He was speaking to both corpses. Is he calling them both Cecilia? I watch him unpack, taking his things and “wives” into the building and closing the door behind him. I have removed my awareness of this place from my mind during this time. Some things are best left unknown.
Would his actions in gaining the two women to come here bring trouble to me? They had not come willingly.
The answer was simple: I had no idea, so I would deal with the consequences if they arrived. The day wore on, and I had a few more things to do. Sure, they were not necessary, but I was working through a mental checklist I had created and updated.
The gates were my first destination. Looking out from them, I could see trees and a few animals. I would need John to make a track to the road. It was only a mile, so it would not take long. He had left both gates open, and I closed them partially.
“Well, there's no time like the present.” I brought up my own status screen.
Dungeon Name New Midian
Level 1
Infamy (Local)
Unknown
Infamy (National)
Unknown
Kills 2/5
Perks
Beacon (Assigned)
Spatial Folding. (Mythical)
Walls. (Common)
Maze. (Uncommon)
Mausoleums. I (Common)
The numbers in the Hunter and Kills section were changed. I realised that I needed five kills to progress to level 2. The infamy ratings were more interesting. They would change as my Dungeons notoriety changed. I knew gaining too much too fast would be bad for me. To the right was a picture of the altar.
“Looking good overall.”
Looking around, I would need John to clear up after the animals, as well as they had crapped all over the place. Back to the chapel, I had blood stains to think about.
“They could be an issue.” There was a blood trail leading to Rigger’s lair.
Looking back over Rigger's sheet, I remembered something I needed to find out about in his Skills list. Corpse Harvesting. I asked for more information. The blue box was a bit of a surprise.
Corpse Harvesting.
Hunters skin and collect meat from their kills. A Harvester will seek to use every part of the kill to its fullest. No matter what part they will try to put it to use.
The greater this skill the more a Harvester can recover from a body to be reused. New uses can also be discovered as the skill develops.
Up to ten levels can be gained in this skill.
“That sounds useful.” If this was the American western frontier of the late 1800s, then this was an excellent skill to have. What Rigger would make of it was anyone's guess.
“I need to find out the year and my location.” I was eager to know these things, but now was not the time to ask.
I travelled the length of the wall, and once I had confirmed that there were no problems, I returned to the top of the bubble. Things were going well, so I would wait to find out what I needed to know.
The day passed into night and day again.
Rigger emerged dressed from his lair shortly after dawn. As soon as I became aware of him, I went down to him. He was taking the last things from the animals who had spent the night grazing and sleeping.
“Rigger, I have a few questions for you.”
“Sure.” He seemed unsurprised when I spoke to him.
“I have only recently arrived. I must confirm the date and location to ensure it is right.”
“Its... er … August the…” He starts counting on his fingers. “August the 9th, 1870. This is the Idaho territories near the Rock Mountains.”
“Excellent. Next question. Did your dreams lead you here?”
This makes him stop for a few seconds as he thinks about the question.
“Ya and no. Dreams told me what deeds to perform when here. But the tug brought me.”
That was interesting. I told him what I needed him to do, and he got to work without complaint. He started by spending most of the day hacking a rough trail to the road. He had to stop and spend time in the Dungeon as he started to feel ill outside after a time. I told him that was normal and to work at a speed he felt comfortable with. He used the pack animals to aid him. I had realised he might need them and not to let them loose just yet.
During this time, I moved around the Dungeon and discovered a change. The mausoleum Rigger had set up in now sported two names: Abigail and Mary Johnson, mother and daughter, who died on August 8th, 1870.
“Seems it is 1870, after all.”
It was getting late when I called him back in and told him to continue the next day. As I had told him, he released the horse and mules, and I watched them wander off. He had told me he did not need them for the rest of the work.
It was still an hour or two before sunset, and John was back in his lair. I was thinking about going up to my viewing spot when I saw two riders coming up the partly finished path to the Dungeon.
“Now, who are these two?”
Comments
Blue-eyed serpent
Definitely an interesting concept and something I can't wait to see more of!
