The blow forced the creature backward, its many arms pinwheeling to maintain its precarious balance. Still gripping the creature’s tongue, I pulled my fist back and smashed the tool into the monster’s throat again and again and again, until at last the edge of the square ripped messily through the monster’s neck. The creature let out one last choking gurgle, then collapsed to the floor in a heap of limbs while sludgy black blood pooled around it.
Its porcelain head lay to one side, connected to the rest of its body by a thin strand of white tissue no larger than my pinky.
I scrambled away from the dead monster and collapsed against the far wall, my legs shaky and my whole body trembling from exertion. I dropped the speed square, covered in gore, and just sat there for a while, breathing heavily as I watched the corpse.
All I wanted was a cigarette. That and a cold beer.
I’d quit smoking eight years ago, not long after getting out of the Corps. I still lit up the occasional cigar every now and then while drinking with my buddies, but I hadn’t had the urge to smoke a cigarette in… Well, I couldn’t even remember how long.
I wanted one now, though. Just something to help take the edge off and settle my understandably frayed nerves. I’d had more than my fair share of fistfights and I’d served in an active combat zone, but I’d never experienced anything like the battle against the Janitor.
It had been so close. So personal. So intense, violent, and visceral.
Part of me wanted to pump one fist in the air, while another part wanted to throw up in the toilet. Well, maybe not this toilet, since the interior of the bowl looked like a miniature version of the Sarlacc Pit, but a toilet.
An icon appeared and when I hazarded a look toward it, a whole new batch of notifications and research achievements scrolled across my vision. Most of them were unimportant, throwaway “First” achievements. Baby’s First Massacre, for murdering more than three monsters during a single combat encounter—and murder was the word the achievement used, not kill. Napoleon Complex, for attacking and defeating a Lobby guardian while being at “effective” level zero. Budding Explorer for discovering an active stairwell for the first time.
Together, they netted me five more Copper Delver Loot Tokens, one Copper Medic! Token, and a Copper Slayer Token. Killing the Toilet Snakes had earned me 25 experience each, and taking out the toilet-headed Janitorial Handyman brought in another 350. Combined with the additional 500 experience points I got as a reward from the Baby’s First Massacre Research Achievement, it kicked me up another level, which, with a little bit of mental math, put me at level 5.
Not that it made much of a difference at this point.
I was starting to suspect that I couldn’t actually “gain” those levels until I fully integrated with the VIRUS Upgrade Interface, and to do that, I needed to find one of the Progenitor Monoliths the system kept jabbering on about.
On top of the more generic achievements, I received a couple of more interesting achievements that came with a few higher-tier Loot Tokens and even a new title, Weapon of Opportunity.
Research Achievement Unlocked!
Barbarian of the Bathroom
Look at you go, you filthy fucking animal! You managed to kill a stairwell guardian without having a single Relic equipped to your Spatial Core.
You’ve displayed a unique blend of brawn and bowel control, which is as stupid as it is impressive. Instead of relying on the powerful sorceries of the Backrooms, you embraced the raw might of your biceps, unleashing the fury of mediocrity and unwashed armpits. Your dedication to the art of close combat has earned you a place in the annals—or should it be anals?—of unconventional heroism.
Reward: 1 x Copper Brawler Loot Token
Research Achievement Unlocked!
Weapon of Opportunity
Swords, battle-axes, numchucks, even automatic assault rifles… These are the tools of war. But you? You use actual tools. While others rely on deadly instruments of destruction, you choose to delve into the depths of your toolbox, transforming everyday objects into instruments of pain and fleshy ruin.
That screwdriver? A kidney shiv. The humble hammer? Nay, a war club capable of shattering bones with every swing. And who could forget the trusty ol’ speed square—slicing through your enemies with geometric precision. Your ability to turn the mundane into the murderous is disturbing, but I’ve got a feeling you’ll fit in just fine here.
Reward: 1 x Gold Weaponsmith Loot Token
Title: Weapon of Opportunity – Deal 5% additional physical damage when using a melee weapon that can also be classified as a tool.
Like the level ups, I still couldn’t do anything with the Loot Tokens I’d earned, but that would change eventually.
The new research achievements weren’t the only interesting things I found either.
Although I had no desire whatsoever to approach the dead and gory body of the Janitor, my screwdriver and hammer were still lodged firmly into its corpse. I pulled the hammer out of its arm without much effort, but the screwdriver was really jammed in there, so I had to get down on one knee and use my left hand to push against the creature’s pale torso while yanking at the screwdriver handle with my other hand.
When I touched the creature’s chest, I noticed a strange warmth radiating outward from its otherwise clammy skin.
As I focused on that warmth, a black rift appeared like a jagged gash along the Janitor’s chest, which quickly vomited out several items. Then the void rift shrank and vanished with a pop and the warmth emanating from the Janitor disappeared entirely.
There were four items of note.
I was already familiar with the first. It was another bottle of the Zima, though this one was a Lesser Healing Elixir instead of a Greater Elixir like the one the gunslinger had gifted me. This time, the tagline read “Same great flavor, but now with half as much organ juice!” The Lesser Elixir offered most of the same health and regenerative benefits—it just took significantly longer to repair any damage. I was pretty beat up from my scuffle with the Janitor, so I briefly considered downing the potion, but eventually decided against it. I had no idea how rare these things were, and though I was injured, I wasn’t in immediate mortal danger.
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I figured it was better to save the elixir for when the shit really hit the fan.
The next item was a small black hexagonal piece of metal. There was nothing magic about it, but it was extremely valuable, nonetheless.
I eyeballed the metal door, which let out into the stairwell beyond.
If the Janitor was the stairwell guardian, it made sense that it would have the key. This would save me loads of time and it might work on other doors that had a similar design and locking mechanism.
I slipped the bit of metal into my pocket and moved on to the next piece of loot, which turned out to be a glorious treasure beyond the scope of human comprehension or understanding. At a casual look it appeared to be a lowly, half-used roll of single-ply toilet paper. After a more thorough inspection, I discovered it was a lowly, half-used roll of single-ply toilet paper that never ran out. Ever.
The Roll of Endless Wipe
Common Artifact
Type: Reusable, Cursed
Let me set the stage for you. There you are, knee-deep in the bowels of the Backrooms, battling the unspeakable frog-themed horrors of the thirty-second floor. Then, suddenly, nature calls. It’s a shitty situation, but thankfully the Roll of Endless Wipe has your ass covered.
Each pull unfurls a seemingly inexhaustible supply of toilet paper. But be warned, for this stuff is a double-edged sword. It feels like you’re wiping your butthole with sandpaper. It’ll get the job done, but believe you me, you ain’t gonna like it and you’ll be walking funny for days after.
Despite the ominous warning about the quality of the toilet paper, I slipped it into my tool belt like a giddy kid on Christmas morning. As a contractor and former Marine, I’d survived countless porta shitters, spanning the globe from Cincinnati to Iraq, so I knew well the dangers and challenges of cheap, single-ply toilet paper. Still, I’d much rather have this than nothing at all.
The last item I received from the Janitor was something I hadn’t seen before.
Something called a Relic, which took the form of a clear cleaning spray bottle filled with some sort of mysterious blue liquid. The label on the front read Bleach Bolt: The Patented Unidentified Stain and Flesh Eradicator. At first, I thought it was a weapon or an Artifact like the Slammer, but when I flipped over the bottle to examine the label on the back, an item description appeared, which quickly disabused me of the notion.
Bleach Bolt: The Unidentified Stain Eradicator
Uncommon Relic – Level 1
Range: Single Target
Cost: 5 Mana
Unleash an orb of super-heated, highly concentrated cleaning solution, so powerful it can “clean” the skin right off your enemies’ bones in a matter of seconds, leaving their skeleton as bright and shiny as ever—at least until it dissolves that, too. Bleach Bolt’s patented solution works best on organic compounds and is ineffective against inorganic substances such as metal, tile, or plastic, though it will leave them with a gleaming razzle-dazzle second to none!
The target takes 15 points of Corrosive Burst Damage on contact, plus 2 points of additional Corrosive Damage per minute for five minutes. This Relic enables Mana usage.
The Relic felt warm, almost comforting.
Working on autopilot, my hands brought the item toward my chest, and as it touched my shirt, a clean black rift opened, unbidden, and the bottle of vaguely ominous cleaning solution disappeared inside my chest cavity. The rift snapped shut a second later, leaving no sign of the bottle behind.
But I could feel it inside me. Loitering in my soul.
New knowledge bloomed inside my head like a flower unfurling its petals toward the sun. I stretched out one hand, palm up, and activated the new spell with a thought and a subtle effort of will.
An orb of blistering hot blue goop exploded outward from my hand and splattered across the Janitor’s battered and emaciated corpse. This was the same substance that the Janitor had spit at me during our tussle. As I watched the blue goo eat through skin and bone with alarming and brutal efficiency, I was suddenly very glad that I’d managed to avoid the attack.
A blue bar appeared in the corner of my eye and drained almost immediately, leaving me feeling woozy, stumbling slightly, and lightheaded. Since I’d spent more than a few hours with my ass planted in front of a gaming console playing RPGs like Evodoom and Titan Realm, I was guessing that was my Mana bar.
Seeing just how much Mana the simple spell took told me my current Mana level was abysmally bad. Sure, this was an uncommon spell, but it wasn’t rare or legendary, so I probably should’ve been able to cast it more than once without feeling like I’d just finished running a marathon.
Still, I smiled.
I had magic.
And not just any magic. Get fucked, burn-your-face-off corrosive magic.
Let those creepy, smiling Lobby Greeter shitheads take a shot at me now.
I earned a research achievement for activating the spell for the first time—My First Relic—though it didn’t come with any extra benefits; under reward it just said, “Face-melting magic is its own reward, so don’t get greedy.”
While my Mana ticked up in painfully slow increments—about a point a minute—I searched the three toilet snakes. One of them was so badly damaged that I couldn’t even examine its corpse for items. That was good to know, and I logged that little detail away for later. Staying alive was obviously at the top of the priority list, but gathering materials and resources was just below that. Which meant I needed to kill things in a gentle enough manner that I could still loot their corpses.
The other two each yielded a single “Common Relic Shard,” which looked like small chunks of glossy white porcelain.
Relic Shard
Common
These bad boys are scattered all throughout the Backrooms and are most commonly found on the corpses of lesser Dwellers. But don’t let their humble origins fool you. Combine ten Relic Shards to randomly generate a Relic of the same rarity level. You never know what you’re gonna get—it’s basically gambling, but that’s the fun!
Now that was interesting, as well.
I’d gotten lucky in my fight against the Janitor, and if any one of a dozen little things had gone differently, I would’ve been the one lying dead in a pool of my own fluids. Until I found a Progenitor Monolith—and got a few more levels and Relics under my belt—it would be smart to avoid fighting something so obviously out of my weight class. But the toilet snakes? Killing those things had been relatively easy, though disgusting.
If I could grind my way through some of the less powerful monsters, maybe I could cobble together enough Shards to form a few more magical skills to help level the playing field.
I stowed the two Shards and took a few minutes to clean up while my Mana gauge finished refilling. I peeled off the Mechanix gloves, then splashed water from the busted sink pipe along my hands, arms, and face. It was blessedly cool and refreshing against my skin. I took a couple of mouthfuls and swished it around, trying to get rid of the deadly post-hangover morning breath kicking around inside my mouth.
It was a losing battle. Rinsing helped a little, though.
There was a chance the water was toxic, but it tasted fine, and I wouldn’t make it much longer before dehydration put me flat on my back with heatstroke. So, I threw caution to the wind, drank my fill, then filled up the empty Zima bottle. I tore off a huge wade of toilet paper from the Roll of Endless Wipe, packed it into a tight ball, then jammed it into the opening. It wouldn’t work well long term, but it was the best I could do for now.
I took one last look around the bathroom of nightmares, muttered a prayer that things would get easier from here, then unlocked the door and headed into the stairwell, bound for the greener pastures below.
At least, I hoped they were greener pastures and not a sewer of shit and misery.