Rising from the throne, the cloaked figure towered over its sycophants. It ignored their struggles to divide their attention between fawning over it and directing hate at the Travellers who had so rudely interrupted them. “Welcome Travellers. I see you have had fun busting up my little operation here. I honestly didn’t expect you to try to set fire to the whole station, but at least you’re enjoying yourselves.” The creature spread its cloaked arms wide and bowed. “I believe you know who I am, yes?”
“Lust,” Warren growled.
“Ehh, kinda. They’re here too, but I’m so much more than that.” Throwing open the cloak to reveal the smooth, featureless body of the creature they had faced last time, it continued. “I’ve been watching you three for some time now.” The thing’s body rippled, details forming and resolving into a face, clothes, hair. “You might know me from the bar.” The body shifted, taking on a metallic sheen as it became a guardsman’s armour. “Or maybe you know this face from the barracks?” It began shrinking to the size of a child. A child they had last seen crying over a stack of letters. “Oh please, mister. Daddy will be so upset if I don’t deliver all these.”
Peter heard Pham’s breath catch beside him and he put a steadying hand on the mechanists’s shoulder. “Don’t,” Peter whispered, “that’s what he wants. Remember the hall, when Sack tried to take us. Lust wants us to charge blindly in.”
Pham huffed but relaxed slightly.
Up on the dais, the shapeshifter continued to cycle through the random NPCs Peter had taken for granted, writing them off as just nobodies in the crowd. “It’s been such fun, watching you run around trying to save the village. The truth is, I’ve owned this town from the first moment you set foot in it.” It paced as it monologued, enjoying the discomfort the Travellers felt as they watched a sentence spoken by five different sets of lips from one end to the other. “And the best part is, watching you struggle to figure out who I am to you. How’s your arm Peter?”
Peter held up his mechanical arm and made a fist with it. “Good enough to punch you in the face, jerk!”
A freakish laugh that began as a schoolgirl giggling and ended as a guffawf from a pot bellied middle aged man slapping his knee, Lust’s response chilled Peter to the bone. “Not that arm, boyo. This one.” Lust morphed into a perfect replica of Peter's body as it had been a few days ago. A small rivulet of blood ran from the bandage down to the tip of the index finger where a drip hung precariously. The doppelganger lifted its hand to its face, rolling the drop of blood around the finger, apparently fascinated. “I hear you’ve been in the wars again. Always a burden on your poor father.”
“What do you know of my father?” Peter slammed the butt of his scythe against the stone floor. “You’re just a stupid boss monster!”
“Really? Could a boss monster do this?” Faux-Peter raised its hands to its face, like a Weeping Angel hiding from the Doctor, and as it dropped them shifted once more. “Boo!”
“Steve?”
In unison, Pham, Dani and Warren looked at Peter. “Who’s Steve?”
“My Dad’s friend from work,” Peter hissed out the corner of his mouth. “How does an NPC know about my dad’s friend?”
“Oh sweetie,” Lust/Steve breathed, “haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m no NPC, I’m as real as you three. In fact, I’m not just your dad’s friend, I’m his boyfriend!”
“What are you talking about?” Peter demanded. “There’s…”
“There's what?” Lust/Steve cut him off. “There’s no way? Why do you think your dearest mummy has been so distracted recently? Why she’s meeting Private Detectives in coffee shops and drinking herself to sleep when she can’t figure out who your father is sneaking out to meet?”
Peter shook his head. “No, I mean…”
“You mean, because your dad’s not gay?” Lust/Steve stuck a flamboyant pose, shifting into the form of Peter Allen in the final number of The Boy From Oz. “Well, you’re half right, I suppose. He’s bi.” He shifted back into the Steve body. “He wrote such elegant code for this world, and your mummy had no interest in it. I did though. There's something quite… infectious…” as Lust/Steve said the word he shivered and shimmered at the same time in a most eye-wrenching way, “about the gods of this world. As you well know, Petey, they can get under your skin. Literally.”
“No, but there’s fo…” Peter tried again, but this time it was Warren who cut him off.
“What’s this roaster on about?” Warren turned to face Peter. “You think ‘e’s a Traveller like us? An’ what’s this pile o’ jobbies about getting under your skin?”
Sighing and tearing his attention from the scene in the middle of the room, Peter addressed his friends. “Look. I think this idiot is a player who knows my family in real life. I think he’s saying my dad has something to do with the development of this game, but honestly this is the first I’ve heard of it.” Peter leaned on his scythe for support as the weight of the last few weeks really began to hit him. “The under the skin part, well, here’s the thing. I think I somehow, kinda, sorta, accidentally, became the Paragon for Death.”
“You did what now?” Pham demanded. “Becoming one of the Paragons is a crazy hard, super secret quest chain and, like only three of the Avatars have even named their Paragons. Level two nobodies don’t just get handed it on a platter!”
“Even if their dad helped make the game.” Warren added.
“Well, when I met the Avatar of Life she said it was because I’d managed to die a record number of times or something.” Peter tried to explain before being interrupted again.
“YOU MET THE AVATAR OF LIFE!” Phan shouted.
Peter, held up his skeletal hand and looked at his companions through the bones. “Only a couple of times. Like when she gave me the geas, or did this to my arm.”
“Oh Petey, she did SO much more than that. But I guess you’re never going to find out what that is now, will you?” Lust/Steve clapped loudly. “This is my time and you are wasting it. Minions, get them!”
At their master’s insistence the twisted creatures surged towards the party. One held out a hand and swirls of darkness coalesced into a spear as it ran, another moved to the side and manifested a heavy crossbow. Moving much slower than its companions, the third flexed like a bodybuilder, its muscled form inflating as though it had taken the mother of all instant steroids. A flamberge of hardened shadows formed above its head. The final imp chief did something complicated with its hands in front of its chest, but there wasn’t enough contrast between its blackened skin and the weapon it manifested for Peter to see what it was. Warren stepped to the fore, his massive shield slamming into the ground. Pham muttered and cursed as he dug through his inventory for something to slow them down while Dani peppered them with throwing daggers. Peter pulled up his hood and did his best to fade into the shadows at the back.
“You won’t be getting away that easily darling!” Lust/Steve called. He thrust his hands into the air and a shower of sparks flowed out of them in a fountain that soon covered every surface of the room. Any attempt at stealth was doomed to failure. “You have something I need, can’t have you nipping out the back door!”
“I wasn’t running away, you jerk!” Peter slammed the butt of his scythe into the floor. “But fine, let’s play it your way!” He dove into the fray, swinging the scythe like a baseball bat. His wild swings clipped the approaching monsters but more by good luck than skill. Mostly they ducked and wove around his mindless attacks, returning any damage received twofold or more, which only incensed Peter further.
“Oi, dumbass!” Pham yelled over the din, “Get your head in the game. You’re gonna Jenkins us and you’re paying the repair bill when we res!” He tossed a glass vial at Peter’s back, which broke and released a green mist.
Peter felt the mist envelop his head and initially was loath to breathe it in, but he trusted Pham knew what he was doing, and so took a deep lungful. Immediately the nicks and bruises he’d sustained hurt less and his head cleared a bit. “Thanks!” he called, hopping back out of range of the nearest creature’s swing. He took another breath, stepped forward again and brought the scythe blade up into his assailant’s stomach. It didn’t have the desired effect.
When the blade was withdrawn all that happened was a small gout of dark ichor splashed to the ground. The beast didn’t even make a sound. “That’s not going to work, Petey!” called Lust/Steve. He waved a hand and a dark energy enveloped the injury for a moment, and when it faded the wound was gone, leaving only a slightly more twisted and mottled skin. “You could just give up, you know. I might even make it painless!”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Peter had to throw himself backwards as a spear wielding imp attempted a similar move on him, nearly impaling the boy with a wickedly shaped blade. Dani danced in from the side and drove a dagger through it’s temple, but received a crossbow bolt through the thigh for her trouble. She and the spear wielder collapsed to the floor at the same time, but where Warren charged forward and planted his shield on the far side of her and Pham smeared a white goop on her leg, the imp’s companions simply kicked its corpse to the side and continued to try to kill the Travellers. The body faded a moment later, leaving the dagger on the scuffed marble floor.
Warren leaned the shield over to intercept another bolt as the crossbow wielder tried to flank him for a clear shot, the black bolt thudding into the hard wooden surface. Pham gave Dani a hand up as the goop did its job and Peter ran to close the gap between him and the ranged attacker. He dropped to his knees and slid between the legs of the massively muscular imp, hearing the dark sword clang to the ground behind him. He rolled back to his feet and rushed towards the crossbow-imp who was calmly but purposefully slotting another bolt into the weapon. The next moment he was face down on the marble as Lust/Steve giggled maniacally. Peter screamed in agony as dark teeth ground into his ankle. He looked down to see a rabbit of pure darkness gnawing on his leg. A swipe with the scythe dissipated what was apparently a summoned creature, but the damage was done. Blood flowed freely from the wound as he lay on the floor. He curled into a ball and waited for the crossbow bolt that would send him back to the crypt.
“Hey impy, think fast!” Pham’s voice rang out. There was a patter of metal ringing on the marble and a “thung” from the crossbow.
Peter felt the wind of the bolt as it passed by his head, but it hit the ground and slid into the far recesses of the room. A brass screw rolled into Peter’s vision and he realised what had happened. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up, wincing as the pain in his leg throbbed. He surveyed the room, hoping to come up with a good idea. The summoner and crossbow imps were several feet apart, but no longer on the dais. The Hulk Hogan impresario was going toe-to-toe with Warren, while a significantly less agile Dani did her best to harass it. Lust/Steve simply stood on the dais smirking. Pham was frantically putting something together while hiding behind Warren, doing his best to keep a low profile. Right, so what do I do? Deciding that helping his friends would be more effective in the long run, he turned his back on the dias, dropped to his uninjured knee beside the monster and swung his scythe at the back of the muscled imp’s knees.
Warren saw what Peter was trying to do, so he caught the imps’ next swing high and deflected it up, leaving the imp precariously balanced. When Peter’s swing sliced through its hamstrings the monster collapsed backwards and Warren lunged forward, once more driving his shield down - this time into the middle of the imps chest. Such was the force of the blow that the steel rim of the shield rang out against the marble floor below, and a moment later the body faded to shadows and disappeared.
Lust/Steve was no longer smirking, their tank and melee fighter both gone and all that was left was a ranged and a mage. He paced the dias irritably, muttering to himself as his form shifted through several bodies. Pham dropped what he was working on and scooted over to Peter with a handful of the white goop to smear on his shin, Dani tossed throwing knives at the crossbow-imp to disrupt its frantic attempts to reload and Warren advanced threateningly on the summoner.
Suddenly, with a cackle, the summoner completed its spell and a dark glowing ritual circle flared into existence above Warren’s head. From its centre dropped the darkest creature of all, a dire honey badger. From the moment it landed on Warren’s head it started tearing and biting through the helmet, gouging deep furrows into the skin below. Warren hit the deck, screaming and thrashing as he tried to remove the enraged construct. Dani stopped throwing knives and tried to hobble over to Warren, knowing that she’d never hit such an erratically moving target without likely hitting Warren first. Pham shot Peter an inquiring look, and when he nodded, skittered over to Warren on all fours. He drew his trusty wrench and tried poking the dire badger in the hopes of provoking it into changing targets.
Thung.
A dark bolt tip emerged from Pham’s abdomen, just below his ribs. He coughed a gout of blood onto the badger, which paused in its savagery for a moment to sniff the air. While the party had been distracted the crossbow-imp had finally managed to reload, and now was doing so again.
Lust/Steve paused its muttering to clap and titter with glee. “Oh that was wonderful. Brava! Bra-VA!”
Pham was frantically scootching back on his butt, leaving a blood trail that the dire honey badger was snuffling after. On the upside, it was no longer ripping Warren’s head apart, on the downside, it was likely to destroy Pham very soon. Dani looked at the supine form of Warren, the gap between the summoned construct and Pham and the rictus of the summoner as it attempted to control its creature. Deciding that the best defence is a good offence, she hobble-ran at the summoner and tackle-hugged it to the floor. With her favorite stiletto between it and the ground. The blade burst forth from the mage’s chest, narrowly missing her own head, but a quick twist and the body in her arms dissipated into dark motes that evaporated completely. Dani rolled over to see Pham up against a pillar but the badger’s body was already fading too.
On the other side of the room, warmth was seeping into Peter’s leg from the goop, numbing the pain and stopping the bleeding. He wedged the butt of the scythe into the floor and levered himself to his feet. Now that the pain was receding, it was being replaced with the tingling coldness. Peter pointed his scythe at the crossbow-imp like a baseball player calling his shot. “I’ll have you, bastard.” Three long steps assisted by beats from his wings brought him in range to slap the weapon out of the imp’s hands, and a spinning backstep with an upwards sweep split it in half. The two pieces peeled apart before hitting the ground and fading away. Peter pointed his weapon at Lust/Steve. “You’re next.” The tingling cold spread further, killing all sensations and muting every emotion.
Lust/Steve stomped its foot on the dais. Their body had reverted to the featureless humanoid but they could feel the frustration and rage emanating from it. “Why must you do this? Why must you fight? All I want you to do is love me.”
The last two words washed over the Travellers like a wave, carrying away all thought.
Peter blinked, unsure as to why he had wanted to hurt this beautiful creature. “But, I do love you!”
Warren sat up, wiped the blood from his face and grinned like a smitten idiot. “Aye, as do I,” he agreed.
Dani put away her daggers and blushed. “I’m sorry. How can we make it up to you?”
Only Pham remained where he was, shaking his head as though trying to dislodge a recalcitrant memory. “Uh, what?”
Lust/Steve stepped down from the raised platform and rested an arm around Peter’s shoulders, and Peter looked up at the faceless being in awe. “You can begin by giving me the key,” Lust/Steve responded.
“Key?” Asked Peter. “Which key?”
Lust/Steve guided Peter over to where Warren was sitting. “Why, the key to Death’s Door. I know you have it, I can feel it.” He reached out a hand to Warren. “And you, my fine strong friend, can be my new guardian. My old one seems to have… vanished.”
Warren nodded idiotically, accepting the hand that pulled him to his feet effortlessly. “Just say the word, mistress.”
“And me?” Dani hobbled over. “May I be of service?”
“My you are a strange one,” Lust/Steve squinted at her. “Yeeesss. I think I can find a place for you. And you, little one,” they turned to Pham, “you appear to be marvelously inventive. I will have many uses for one like you.”
Pham held out a hand for assistance as Warren had done. “Please?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Petey, go see to your friend,” Lust/Steve directed. “I shall make preparations for our triumphant return to town.” He stepped back onto the dais and began a complex spell, accompanied by Dani and Warren.
Peter limped over to Pham and helped him to his feet, careful of the still bleeding bolt hole in his abdomen. “Are you ok?”
Instead of answering directly, Pham kicked Peter in the shin where the phantom rabbit had torn a hole. The bleeding began anew, agony shot up the leg and blew away the fog from Peter’s brain. At first, he felt rage. At himself for letting himself be duped. Then at Lust/Steve for messing with his mind. At his dad for messing about with this evil creature and his mother for letting it happen.
Then, the feelings stopped altogether. The coldness exploded from his chest, overwhelming everything. Heedless of Pham falling back to the floor, Peter turned back towards the dais. “You! Bastard! You took everything from me!”
The featureless form of Lust/Steve turned from its spell. “How? You’re supposed to love me. You can’t hurt me!”
Peter felt the power flooding through his body with every step he took towards the dias. His wings grew to full length. His scythe shifted to its more ornate true self. His armour flowed and hardened as he took on the mantle of Death’s Paragon once more.
YOUR
SOUL
IS
MINE.
Peter whirled the scythe through the air, each slice forming a glowing arc that hung in place until finally he slammed the butt into the floor. The arce sizzled through the intervening space, dissecting the stunned being before it could say another word. A scream with a thousand voices dopplered into a single moan which faded, leaving some weird echoes that had nothing to do with the dimensions of the room and more like echoes in the soul.
Lust/Steve’s body imploded into a small chest, which dropped to the dias with a dull clunk. Dani and Warren’s eyes rolld back into their heads and they toppled backwards. Pham groaned from floor level and Peter dropped to his knees as the power ebbed away.
“Pham!” Peter crawled over to his bleeding friend. “Oh no! what can I do? What’s theat white stuff you used on my leg?”
Pham coughed up more blood and drew out a leather flagon. “It’s, oh damn that hurts, it’s a coagulant with a mild numbing agent I discovered by accident. Ugh.” He smeared a handful on the wound. “That’ll stop the bleeding debuff, but nothing’s going to fix the damage short of a health pot or respawn. They ok?” He jutted his chin at the other two.
“I guess?” Peter waved a hand dismissively. “The only one still dying was you. Is that how you managed to avoid the mind control?”
“No, dumbass. I told you ages ago, I’m ace.” Pham struggled to his feet. “Lust has no power over me.”
“Oh.” Peter shrugged. “I guess I am a dumbass. You know you saved all our butts there, so thanks.” They made their way gingerly to where their friends were coming around. “I owe you. We all do.”
“Enough for your share of the loot?” Pham elbowed him gently in the ribs, then coughed again and winced.
“Maybe,” Peter conceded, looking at the chest. “Probably, even. How about we talk about that back at my place?” He opened his inventory and shoved the chest into it, noting the hourglass symbol where the lock should be.
“Your place?” Warren blinked blearily. “We don’t even know where you live?”
“Not IRL,” Peter nudged his supine friend with his toe. “It’s the middle of the night. Come on, let me show you.”
The party packed up and, after a perfunctory search for more loot, loaded themselves onto one of the trains and left.
All that remained was silence and embers.
.
..
...
"Squeak?"