Travis found it odd that his 'mission' only required him to leave his complex, but with a little over 3 minutes left, he set out. He stopped a few car lengths short of the stop sign and pulled out his journal. He thought he heard a 'ping', like a phone notification in his ear but couldn't be sure.
Missions
Primary Mission - Quests are for Gamers - Mission Accomplished!
Prize: Help section will be added to your journal or other base resources when you reach your base
*New Mission* Primary Mission - 'Base Building for the Win' As the cataclysm continues to wreak havoc on the Earth you have been tasked with finding your base in one of three designated 'safe zones'. Turn to the World Map and choose one of the starred locations. You will have 24 hours to arrive once location has been locked in
Yep, this was some kind of fucked up game. Travis seriously regretted not playing more RPG video games. Someone who had would be an asset, helping him decipher all this game lingo.
He turned the page titled 'Local Map'. It displayed his apartment complex and the surrounding blocks. There was a truck sprite in the center, representing his location. Travis was tempted to drive around and see if the truck moved with him, like a GPS playing out on paper. How did that even work?!
He knew it didn't matter; he would have time to think about stuff like that later anyway. He had 24 hours, but to get to where? He turned the page.
'World Map'
There he was in eastern PA right outside of Philadelphia, the map stretching as far west as western Ohio, stopping in Georgia to the south, and at the Canadian border to the north. Three locations were marked with stars. One was southwest of Atlanta in Georgia, another in the western half of West Virginia. The location that caught his eye immediately was the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio though. Travis had two army buddies from Ohio, and one lived in Columbus itself.
If he was going to be a character, he was too humble to think of himself as the main character, he'd love to have some of his brothers at his side. Since he had a few stops he wanted to make, he wasted no more time deciding where to go and said, "Columbus it is" hoping that would 'lock in his location', whatever that meant. It must have worked because the clock began to count down. 23:59...
After stopping at the gas station and filling up his tank, Travis bought every gas can they had and filled them up. He also grabbed a bunch of snacks and extra supplies for the journey. His phone wasn't working so he couldn't use his GPS. His journal seemed to give him a good enough feel for how to get there. 24 hours was a lot of time for a journey that should not take half of that with stops, but he did not know what type of things might delay him. Otherwise, he would want to make a few more detours. He did have tools and other random items in his SUV. Instead of testing fate and stopping at store for more supplies Travis headed off towards Columbus.
Despite disasters unfolding across the country, people seemed to be going about their business as usual. Accepting disasters that didn't directly impact them yet was difficult. People often ignored the signs unless they were personally affected, sometimes even then.
Travis hopped on Interstate-76 and turned on the radio. Reports flooded in from all over the world. Natural disasters of every variety were devastating the globe, and the death toll was unknown as it had only been a few hours. Things did happen fast though, when the goal was to clear the board of state authorities and governments to make the game more interesting, something as silly as time could not get in the way.
The situation had gotten so dire so fast that legitimate news sources were suggesting these might be the end times, and the disasters were the seven plagues promised in the Bible. Of course, the news was not reporting that, they were just reporting that others of stature were saying that. Unlike many leaders in the US government Travis wasn't very religious, but even he might have considered the possibility if he didnt have a magic journal telling him otherwise. Unless God moonlighted as a DnD Dungeon Master though, he didn't find it very plausible. The irony in that random thought that Travis had was breathtaking, he would be sometime before he'd have the opportunity to understand why.
---
In reality, those who foretold of divine punishment were not entirely wrong. These events were not punishment, and it did not come from God as people on Earth understood it. The unfortunate events befalling the people of Earth were delivered from a being with near god-like power though. Who did in fact rule over them, and in a way, judged them. He had a few chosen ones who would be led to safety during what he referred to as "the Cataclysm," a term with biblical implications at the very least.
The similarities did stop there. The being inflicting this horror on people did it for his own gratification. He wasn't bloodthirsty, but he had a game to run. How could you DM a quasi-medieval RPG campaign with over 8 billion players and NPCs? You could not, at least no in a way satisfying to watch, so the DM began the culling process. Due to events in his history he referred to this process as "the cataclysm".
While he did consider leaving the humans with the technology they had and witnessing things like F-22 Raptors engage in dogfights with Harpies and other flying beasts, he decided against it. He was merely waiting for the right moment to disable the higher forms of Earth tech. Firearms, too, were inconvenient when anyone interested in RPGs knew that sword fights and magic were far superior.
---
Travis was lost in deep thought as traffic slowed down to a crawl. That is when he witnessed the newest version of the "craziest thing I ever saw". A family of three was running across the interstate. It wasn't the family that was the crazy sight, though; it was what was chasing them.
About 25 feet behind was what could only be described as a werewolf. Yes, a fucking werewolf. It was crouched over as it ran, but upright, it would have been 7 feet tall. Humanoid in shape, it ran on two legs with claws the size of large steak knives.
As it chased the family, it must have just realized that there were other people around because it paused for 2 seconds as it scanned the area. Travis briefly made eye contact with it and could see intelligence in those eyes. He could also see a thirst for blood, and its prey was getting away.
The family had just reached the barrier and hopped over it, the father helping the little boy. As he did the wolf started again, gaining ground in a flash.
Travis did what Travis does. Even though this all seemed impossible, he analyzed the situation and made a decision almost instantaneously. He opened his lockbox, which had been unlocked just in case, loaded a clip into his Beretta, clicked off the safety, and aimed out the window.
Finding himself in the middle lane he had a good view of the beast as it pursued the family. He knew he couldn't hit its head from behind and while it crouched as it ran. Instead, he aimed for its lower back, hoping to knock it off its feet by putting a bullet in its spine. He aimed and fired, *blaow blaow blaow*, three shots hitting on or around the wolf's lower spinal cord.
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The calculation that Travis made was sound. If he didn't do anything, those people would be caught and almost certainly killed. If he acted and missed, he was in trouble, but he had options. He acted, and while he didn't miss, the shots did not have the intended effect.
The wolf turned around in what seemed like slow motion, scanned the area until it found Travis, who was literally holding the smoking gun. It roared before angling its body his way and charging at him.
Not to belabor the point, but this was what Travis was known for in Syria. Almost all friendly units in the country knew of the wild man, the madman, the guy who didn't give a damn. While Travis was happy to give his brothers and sisters something to get excited about, he couldn't fathom how his fellow fighting men could misunderstand him so much.
The reason Travis acted the way he did was that he did care; he was not crazy or a madman. He used logic and clear headedness to make the right decisions in a timely manner. He might have had a better handle on his nerves and emotions than others, but he knew there were plenty of cold-hearted individuals in the Joint Task Force.
The difference was he used the ice water in his veins to steady himself and those around him. He knew that if he didn't, things could go off the rails. It's not that he didn't trust his men; he did. He just didn't trust anyone else to do the job as well as he could. That might sound like arrogance, but sometimes the truth sounds that way.
Once again, Travis found himself in a situation where he needed calm combined with quick reflexes and good decision-making, and of course, skill. As the wolf closed the distance to his SUV, Travis aimed for its head, firing two shots in quick succession. The wolf's head jerked back, and it fell to the ground, its momentum driving it into the side of Travis’s Ford Explorer denting the driver side door.
That is when he experienced a feeling that would be hard to describe if you weren't familiar with certain things. There is a sensation people get after taking a higher dose of prescription painkillers. When they start to kick in, you experience a warm happiness throughout your body, its completely artificial and has caused turmoil in the US for how addictive it is. It's a similar feeling to what heroin users feel oddly enough. Still, it was not an unpleasant experience.
The Dungeon Master wanted this achievement to give off a distinct sensation. Anyone who has experienced it before can vouch that it's quite distinct. It only lasted a brief time, but he knew he liked it. Travis wouldn't find out until later that day but the feeling he got meant he had leveled up. For now though, he had other things to worry about.
He pushed the wolf away with his car door as he got out. People started to crowd around after it became clear that no other wolves were around. Travis looked for the family, wanting to ask them some questions. He didn't want to leave the wolf or his truck unattended in all the commotion. This might seem unbelievable to certain people but if you had an understanding of human behavior, especially in crowds you could pinpoint certain types, or better yet certain personalities. He looked for just that now.
Whenever someone takes an action like he just has, that others were either too scared to take or didn't have the means to execute, people were willing to help you, either out of shame for not acting in the first place or just plain old respect. Travis had a cunning commanding officer when he first deployed to Afghanistan. He had showed him that human beings, and even entire crowds could be coaxed into certain actions with very subtle cues. They only work with neutral groups though, but it could still be a valuable tool.
Travis scanned the crowd. Looking for someone more interested in him then the dead wolf. He found the guy pretty easily: a heavy-set man with a workman's uniform on, the type who looked like a real professional at whatever job he did. The man yelled over the commotion when he and Travis made eye contact, “Good shooting!” While everyone else was focused on the wolf, this guy was focused on Travis. It's not that there was a deference between the two, but an unspoken respect. Something similar happens in sports when strangers play pickup basketball.
“Did you serve?” the man, whose name was Mike, asked Travis. There was Army insignia on his SUV so that may have inspired the question.
“I did, yes. You?” Travis replied, thinking the guy too old but wanting him slightly off-guard.
“Not me, man. Hurt my knee in high school. Besides I already had a wife and kids on 9/11, but I have nothing but respect for you and your fellows,” Mike said.
“I appreciate that,” Travis replied. Normally Travis would engage this gentleman in some banter, but he didn't have the time.
“Can I ask a small favor of you? I don't want to leave this area until the authorities come.” he said. That was true but Travis also did not want to leave his car unattended not knowing if the family would remain in place or not. He had his supplies but also the mysterious journal and bag.
“If I have it in my ability, it won't be a problem,” Mike answered. He seemed like a genuine good guy who wanted to help out of respect and because it was the right thing to do.
“Could you go over and ask the family it was chasing if I could ask them some questions? As I said, I want to secure the scene or wait for people who will.”
Mike looked over his shoulder to see how far away they were. He didn't know what the shooter was going to ask, but he didn't think it would be this. He knew he would feel awkward, but it was the least he could do. “Sure thing.” “If they ask what you want to talk to them about?”
“I need to know where they first saw the wolf, so I can put a stop to it,” Travis answered.
The man nodded and headed over to hop the barrier. The family had stopped after hearing the gunshots and hunkered down. They were now losing the adrenaline that had been pumping through them. It would start to hit them harder very soon. As that happened, Travis got a closer look at the dead wolf on the ground.
It had dark gray fur, more muscles than 80s action movie Arnold, and, as he had seen before, huge sharp claws. It reminded him of what a werewolf would look like if your only form of reference was movies. Which he imagined was most people's only form of reference since werewolves were not supposed to exist.
"Add another thing to the list of the absurd and inconceivable," Travis said to himself. He had already started to accept this new reality as best he could, but he worried about how long it would take everyone else.
Mike did what Travis asked him and was coaxing the family back towards him. They were at the barrier when Travis thought it safe to walk over. People were still crowded around the wolf who was right next to his car, but the barrier wasn't far.
“Thanks, Mike. Hello, sorry to bother you, I'm Travis. Do you mind if I ask some questions?” The mother, who seemed to be the least on edge, spoke first.
“Are you with the police?” she asked.
“No, ma'am. I was formerly with the US Army, but everything I am doing now is on my own,” Travis replied.
The boy spoke next; he was around 9 or 10, Travis figured. “You're the one that killed it before it could get us?”
The father rubbed his head, more concerned with his son's well-being, Travis realized. If it was just him, he would have been as close to fine as possible. Travis started to walk up but gave the parents a look first. He wanted to convey an invitation before coming into their personal space. The father was slow on the uptake, but the mom nodded her head, giving Travis a green light.
He moved in and squatted down. “What's your name, little guy?”
“My name is Conner,” the boy answered.
“Well, Conner, that thing can't hurt you, so you don't have to worry, okay?”
“Okay.”
Travis looked back at the mom. “Where did you first see it?”
“We were walking our dog on the trail. The main part had ended, and we pushed past into the woods a little farther than normal.” She motioned with her head for Travis to follow her. She kissed her boy and said, “Stay with daddy, Conner.”
As they walked out of earshot, she explained what happened. “We got a new dog and were trying to get him tired out. After just a few minutes in the thicker part of the trail, he started barking like crazy. We thought he saw a squirrel or something.”
At that moment, this woman looked exhausted, but she continued. “Riley, that's the dog's name, finally broke free of my grip and ran into the woods. We heard a pretty loud growl and started backing up, oddly enough we thought maybe it was a wolf. A minute later or so, and the thing jumped out, parts of the dog in its mouth. Riley was not a big dog, but he wasn't tiny either.”
“We started to run, and I guess the wolf stayed to... finish Riley.” That's when she broke down and started crying, she went back to her family.
He thanked them and headed back to the car. Still no cops on the scene, and it was then that Travis realized he hadn't checked his phone. He didn't live on his phone like many people and had no one super close to him that would be an automatic call anymore.
He picked it up and saw that it still had no bars. There was a crowd, and he asked if anyone had cell service. No one did. Without service, the cops wouldn't know about this. Travis debated what he should do.
That was when he heard a bell-like sound in his head or was it in his ear, he couldn't tell. It sounded like a soft mechanical bell, something you would have as a notification on your phone. The Journal he thought and took it out to see what the game wanted him to do.