“Where’s my rat daggers?” Grizzizzik patted his bare arms, trying to locate the daggers. “I’ll slit his throat and we’ll be on our way.”
A man grabbed his wrist. “You will do no such thing.”
Nick turned to see another figure appear in his room. Saw the curly blonde hair of someone who’d lived his whole life in a temple and had spent the better part of a year adventuring. It wasn’t as jarring to see this man because he didn’t have a snake head or scales. It was easier to imagine he’d snuck into the window instead of being a character from a game. This man also wore a pair of cream-colored shorts, revealing a body not nearly as buff, but still a threat.
This was too much. Nick threw back his covers and got out of bed, pointing at the two beings in his room. “What… is this. Who are you? What are your names?”
The man bowed. “Forgive us, young sir. My name is Ezekiel Watson, Cleric of the Great Lady of Light.”
The hinges of Nick’s jaw loosened, and he gaped at Ezekiel. A humanoid snake was evidence enough that these two were members of his CCNC campaign, but the name. The lesser-known deity. What was happening?
“How are you here? How is this even possible?”
“All I know is we were trying to take down Torraq, then there was a lot of fire,” Ezekiel said.
Grizzizzik folded his arms. “My money is on Milo and his stupid inventions.”
Ezekiel glanced around Nick’s room. “After the explosion, there was lots of fog and confusion, then a tunnel pulled the three of us inside, and we ended up here. There are two other members of our team. Milo and Hraktar. Have you seen them?”
Listening to Ezekiel talk felt as easy as processing mud. He stared at his two characters, unable to do much else.
“You couldn’t miss Hraktar. Half-orc, huge, doesn’t talk much,” Grizzizzik said.
“Much like you, Grizzly Bear.” This was a woman’s voice, and she sounded annoyed.
Nick had never done a triple take until that moment. The first look to the left of Grizzizzik was to notice another person in his room. The second to register she was a woman. And finally, to realize she, too, was only wearing cream-colored shorts and a loose-fitting tank top. His gaze hardly touched her outfit before shooting to her face. She was a gorgeous elf, with flowing, forest green hair. Her elf ears poked out from her hair, and her violet eyes regarded Nick with contempt.
His sister’s character was here, too. A visceral fear entered his gut. What if his father spotted Clarissa, dressed as she was, in his bedroom?
As though the universe heard, a knock came to his door. “Nick? Did you say something?” Walt asked.
Nick’s eyes widened. “Shit.” He grabbed Grizzizzik and Ezekiel’s elbows, heading for his closet.
A hand seized Nick’s wrist, and Grizzizzik hissed. “You will unhand me or find yourself without fingers.”
His character’s far too loud tone terrified him. “Shut up! Don’t make a noise. If my father finds you, he’ll murder me.”
“Ah, fathers.” It was all Grizzizzik said before Nick shoved him in the closet.
“Nick? Are you in there?” his father asked.
“Just a sec!” Nick gestured at Clarissa to get in the closet. The elf princess folded her arms, sniffing at the closet. How little space there was before shoving two people inside. “Get in there, Princess. Now.”
Hearing her title surprised her enough to jumpstart her feet and move toward his closet.
“Is someone in there with you?” A warning flickered in Walt’s voice.
“No! No one’s in here!”
Once Clarissa was close enough, Nick shoved her in and closed the door. She gave a surprised shout before one of the men clamped his hand over her mouth. Walt’s patience ran out, and Nick was a few feet from the door before Walt opened it. Nick’s heart hammered in his chest. It didn’t matter what he told his father. Walt would never believe him. Nick could hardly believe it himself.
“What’s going on, dad?” Nick forced a sense of nonchalantness into his voice.
“I heard you talking to someone in here.”
“Nope. I wasn’t.” Whether he had a flustered look on his face, or the general distrust Walt always had, but his father moved past him and entered his room. “It’s late, Dad. I need some sleep.”
“And I need you to be honest with me. I heard you talking to someone. Do you have a phone in here?” Walt asked.
Nick’s jaw stiffened. “You know I don’t.”
Walt threw open drawers in Nick’s desk, rifling through them as Nick’s blood boiled. He thought it would get easier, but it didn’t. He had no privacy with Walt, and since he wasn’t legally an adult, he had to let him do this. It didn’t help his reputation with the police was already poor.
Waiting it out until Walt finished searching was something he usually did, but this time, he had something to hide. The closet would be the next thing his dad checked once he finished searching the drawers.
“Seriously, Dad. Can we do this later? I want to sleep.”
Walt thumbed through Nick’s old CCNC notebook of all his notes about Grizzizzik. “No. If you learn anything from your fantasy game, you ought to know about consequences to one’s choices.”
Instead of rolling his eyes, Nick clenched his fist and relaxed it rapidly. If he got caught rolling his eyes in front of Walt, they would be here for an hour. “Come on, Dad. I was fourteen.”
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“Yeah. Fourteen. Finding yourself in a gang. Delivering drugs. Causing vandalism.” Walt’s tone got harsher with every word leaving his mouth. Nick kept his jaw tight. There was no point talking to Walt when he was this bullheaded. What Walt said was a slight exaggeration of his choice, but only slight, and that alone made it impossible to talk sense.
Sure, he started hanging out with Anthony and his older brother, Eddy, and his friends when he was younger. He didn’t see them as a gang, and they never asked Nick to deliver drugs. Anthony did that. Nick was too naïve to realize it was happening during school, on school property, while they ate their lunch outside. He pleaded his ignorance of that to the police.
The vandalism was true. It’s what got him caught. And caused his father to ground him until he was eighteen.
Nick absently rubbed his scarred eyebrow. He needed to get Walt out of his room. The thorough investigation of his desk was almost done, and he would move on soon. But he was at a loss, except to make his father angry. Angry enough to do a sloppy job of his search. Nick braced himself for the inevitable blowup. “I wasn’t delivering drugs, Dad. I didn’t even know it was happening.”
The glare Walt shot in his direction was one he matched and threw right back. As much as he hated it, he and Walt had a lot of similarities, including a stubborn, bullheaded approach when challenged. Walt slammed the drawer harder than the other drawers. “Whatever rebellious teen stage you’re in, I’m sick of it. You need to grow up.”
“I already am grown up, but you refuse to see it.”
Walt let out a laugh. “The second you turn eighteen, I’m charging rent.”
This threat wasn’t new. Nick went back to rubbing his forehead. He wanted to yell at Walt that he was finding somewhere else to pay rent, but he wasn’t in the mood to hear a lecture about the harsh realities of life. How much Nick would crawl back home begging to be let in. He was never coming back here. Never. The only way he could prove it was to do it. It wouldn’t happen until April.
“Tell me, what grownup idea inspired you to drive with those hooligans, breaking into cars to steal things?” Walt asked.
Heat rush to his head, the anger a physical pain. Needing to get Walt out of his room didn’t help ease the panic he felt. “Probably the same grownup idea that made you ground me until I was eighteen.”
“This idea that theft and vandalism are in the same category as assuring you don’t end up in trouble again is the reason I’ll never drop your punishment.” Walt moved from the desk to the closet.
Shit.
Standing in front of the door was as subtle as a neon sign, so he scrambled to think of anything else. His father was fast. His spiked heart rate skyrocketed as Walt threw open the door to his closet.
Nick waited a second, then a second more. He moved around, hoping it was a vivid shot of imagination. The three characters stood there, staring at Walt, prepared for the worst. Grizzizzik found a pair of fingernail clippers, holding them like a dagger. Ezekiel and Clarissa both held Grizzizzik’s shoulders, preparing to pin him back if necessary. Nick blinked, then stared at the back of Walt’s blonde, slightly balding head. His father started looting through the top of Nick’s closet. They seemed as confused as Nick that Walt made no reaction to their presence.
“I know you’ve been looking at apartments on Evelyn’s laptop without her permission.” Everything else shocked Nick too much to let Walt’s words register. “You’ve got a dangerous amount of reality about to hit you in April.”
Did he have a psychological break? The stress of everything must have messed with his head. Did people his age have mental breakdowns? Maybe he was hallucinating. It explained this, but also brought a slew of problems he didn’t want to face.
Walt hunted through Nick’s shirts hanging in the closet. Ezekiel tried to slide out of the way, but Walt’s hand hit his chest. No, it went straight through. Nick blinked again, utterly confused. He wasn’t the only one. Grizzizzik, Clarissa, and Ezekiel stared as Walt’s hand went in and out of Ezekiel’s body. Grizzizzik reached out, his arm brushing through Walt before wiggling his fingers. His character tried to steal Walt’s watch, but he couldn’t touch it. They couldn’t touch anything. For whatever reason, these people were invisible. Which should have given him relief, but too many questions filled his mind. He needed to make sure his brain was psychologically sound.
The closet door snapping shut brought Nick back to reality. Nick hadn’t spoken a word since Walt opened it. Nick stood there in the middle of his room, trying not to panic. Walt, as he always did, finished his search, found nothing, and left. No apology, not even a “Good night, son.” Once Walt’s steps receded, he approached the closet door, tugging it open. He leaned against the door, staring at the CCNC characters stuffed in the closet.
“So, um, are… you guys real? Or a figment of my imagination?”
“About as real as you,” Ezekiel said.
To test it, he reached out to touch Grizzizzik’s bump of a snake nose, but his character grabbed his wrist once it became clear what Nick would do.
“There are plenty of appendages a human body needs, but if you keep touching me, you’ll learn how to live without them.”
Nick couldn’t deny the tangible feel of scaled fingers digging into his wrist. He swallowed. Ezekiel took Grizzizzik’s wrist and shook it. Grizzizzik hissed like a snake, before loosening his grip. It took a quick jerk to release his wrist, and Nick rubbed it, keeping his eyes on his character.
“Grizzly Bear tries to sound tougher than he is when meeting new people,” Clarissa said.
His character’s yellow eyes darkened. “And you put on airs you don’t have, Clarissa.”
Her nostrils flared, pointed ears twitching. “That’s Princess Clarissa to you.”
Now he knew how she reacted to people who forgot her title.
“My father can’t see or hear you, but you two can’t start throwing things at each other, either.” Nick paused, then glanced around at the closet. “Can you throw things?”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Nick knew exactly what Grizzizzik would do. He created that rogue. The snake already had a picture frame of a trip to Montana in his scaley hands and threw it with all his might, shattering against the wall.
“No!” Nick whispered far too loud. When Grizzizzik pulled stunts like this, it was a strange reminder that his rogue was almost thirty years old.
The door flew open, and Walt marched in, pale blue eyes growing dark. “Now what the hell was that?”
The lie came to him too easily. “I knocked over a picture frame after straightening things up from your last search and seizure.”
Walt pointed toward the door. “Go wait in the hall, Nick. I’m not playing games.”
Nick glanced in his closet. The three characters stared at him, waiting. Nick had no other choice but to move into the hall, and he hated it. He always hated it.
He glanced behind him, seeing Ezekiel start to follow. Grizzizzik grabbed the cleric’s arm, giving a firm shake of his head. Nick could almost see the non-verbal conversation happening between the two. The faith filled cleric would take a chance on a seventeen-year-old kid and follow him out of his room. The world hardened rogue wouldn’t trust anyone and was already figuring a way to escape and go on his own. Clarissa was the tie braker, forcing Grizzizzik’s hand off Ezekiel’s shoulder as she walked with the cleric, following Nick. Grizzizzik grumbled to himself before joining them.
Nick was in the hall, but there was nothing else to do but wait for Walt to finish. The three characters were studying the strange hallway, the modern light distracting Ezekiel.
“It’s clear this man is your mortal enemy,” Grizzizzik said. “Why don’t you escape?”
Nick folded his arms, leaned against the wall, and said nothing. Ezekiel glanced at Grizzizzik before he changed the subject. “We need a plan. Milo and Hraktar got separated from us, and we need to find them before returning to the Shrouded Domain. Do you know where the Shrouded Domain is?”
Nick rubbed his eyebrow, feeling the scar under his fingertips. Yes, he knew where the Shrouded Domain was. It was a place in everyone’s collective imagination, not an actual planet in their solar system. He needed to talk to Derek. His friend knew everything about CCNC. Also, these were the three characters he played during the session. If everyone escaped the game, Derek might get his own nasty surprise with Milo and Hraktar. He really hoped Derek had them. He didn’t want to lose his mind.