Clayton
Waking up after another long night of battling to sleep had done me little good, I got ready for another long day at work. Just like every morning before, I promised myself the one of these days I would find an apartment that wasn’t next to a busy intersection and below a family of five that always seemed to have at least one kid screaming. Though at least the kids screaming was understandable, while the grandma that I had had to deal with on my last shift working security in the heart of DC was anything but understandable. Honestly, I hated the entitled crowds that always seemed to think that their convenience or what they wanted is all that matters.
As I stood and stretched, I just smiled, knowing that I at least had the day off tomorrow and that was enough to get me to my sink, where I picked up my razor and got to work getting ready. A quick shave, that I only did because it was company policy to be clean shaven, teeth brushed, flossed and deodorant applied, and I was ready for breakfast. Which, like every other day for the last month, was just a bag of mixed nuts, a cheap protein bar and a green apple with a cup of black coffee. No cream or sugar, because, while I told everyone, it helped keep me in shape, really, I just didn’t have the cash to buy any. Sure, I had a cool $1,000 in my account, but that was only because I got paid 2 days ago and that needed to last another 12 days if I wanted to live.
The fact that I couldn’t help but pondering my situation every morning like this wasn’t healthy and was likely why my eyes lingered on the 50-foot plus drop out my window longingly every morning. Still, I just shook my head and headed down the filthy stairs of the complex that I lived in. Seeing the sight of a man curled up in some blankets and a needle next to him was just another reminder about how I wanted to get out of the DC metro area. Really, it was why I never even thought about owning anything worth over $100 besides my phone and even then, I made sure mine was always at least two years old and an off brand that no one wanted.
As I hurried to the metro station and got there just in time to catch a commuter train into DC, I finally felt awake. Though that only lasted for five minutes as I took in the exhausted faces and zombie-like vibes that the others around me had going. An hour later, I shambled off the train after doing my best to not talk or touch anyone as I pretended that the $20 headphones I had did a decent job at blocking the world out. Still, they at least made others ignore me, especially the few weirdos that seem to love finding people to talk to. Nothing would ruin my day like when one of them sat next to me and proceeded to tell me all about how I was going through life all wrong. I had even had a woman that looked to be in her 80’s, wearing nothing but a bra and hot pants tell me about her granddaughter who was looking for a good guy to settle down with. Though the state of the woman’s teeth could have been caused by something other than her age, and I wasn’t sure if she even knew what year it was.
Sadly, that was about all the casual conversation that I ever got outside of work and that interaction had stuck with me for no other reason than I couldn’t remember the last time I got laid. I really had wanted to find something that would make me feel like I was worth a halfway decent woman’s time, yet all I ever got was the dismissive look from the odd tourist. It was with that thought that I arrived for my shift and it stuck with me the whole day and into the night as when I stepped away from work that evening, I didn’t head to the metro like I normally did. No, I just started wandering the streets as the sun started to set and I figured that I might as well find a place that offered cheap drinks and nurse one for a few hours.
If I could actually afford anything but a single drink anytime I felt like this, I might have found somewhere to become a regular, but I was always looking for new places to avoid becoming known for my cheapness. This obviously made it hard for me as I often found myself back at the few places that had really cheap drinks still and none of the staff ever seemed happy to see me since I was never more than a dollar in tips.
However, that night I had lucked out, or so I had thought at the time. Before me was an old worn-out sign that looked like it had once had a word on it, but now only the ‘ar’ of bar was discernable. Part of me thought that the placement of it was off as it felt like the place was inserted where an alley should have been. When I stepped in, it was clear that the only seating was at the bar, as the rest of the space was needed for the only path past that point. There were only two other patrons seated at the bar while they gripped about working for some politicians and I quickly tuned them out, as I really didn’t want to know anything about that. Instead, I focused on the bartender, who was an older man with a mustache that, like his short hair, was showing some white in it. I couldn’t quite place his ethnicity. Still as he looked at me, I decided to just walk up and see about getting a drink.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“So, what will a beer cost me here?”
“One soul.”
“What?”
“We’re in DC. Don’t you know that the devil is always willing to trade what you want for your soul here.”
“Are you the devil?”
“No, but if you have to ask what a beer costs, well then I don’t think that you should be spending your money on it.”
“Just tell me what the cheapest beer you have will cost me as I need a drink and somewhere to sit while I drink it while ignoring the world for an hour or if this place doesn’t get busy, maybe two.”
“Got it, one piss water special. That will be $6.66. That includes tax, by the way. Just keep your hands out of the bar nuts, or I will add an 18% tip on as well.”
“Whatever,” was all I said as I pulled up a stool and looked at the dusty bowl of nuts that looked as if they had gone years without anyone touching them as I waited for my beer.
A few moments later I had a pint of something that resembled beer, but part of me worried that it was really cooled piss when I took the first sip. At least it would take me a while to choke it down as I continued to look the bar over and noticed the old beat-up jukebox, right next to an unsex bathroom that looked out of order. It was powered on, but it seemed that no one cared enough to pay for music, but I felt like I could spare a dollar if there was anything decent in it as I looked at the bartender once more and spoke.
“So, anything decent in that jukebox?”
“No, it is a rather chaotic thing, if you must know.”
“What? I just want to know if it has good music and what it will cost to play a song.”
I watched as the bartender looked at me up and down for a moment before placing a token in front of me and responding.
“This will let you pick any song that has a one next to it. Just know that I am not responsible for what happens to you after picking your song.”
“Cool, I am in the mood for some music,” was all I said as I took the token without even looking too closely at it.
As I walked past the two middle-aged men at the bar, I failed to notice how they were suddenly quiet, just like I missed the shake of the bartender’s head or the cat that jumped up and started lapping up my beer. My focus was on the jukebox and wondered what a place like this had to offer in its collection. Though when I arrived, I saw only three that had a one next to them and they weren’t anything like what I had expected. One was some classical BS that I had never heard of before looking it up on my phone, the other was a straight up kids’ song and the last was Handlebars by Flobots. While there were 17 other songs, they had numbers other than one next to them and I wasn’t sure what that meant as while the highest was 15 other numbers were just missing as there was no 11, 13 or seven and most numbers only had one option available. All I could think was how weird it was as I selected Handlebars and pressed play on it.
After making my selection, I felt an urge to enter the bathroom despite the out-of-order sign and as the door shut behind me, I heard a voice in my head. ‘Dungeon configuration is underway. Please stand by and remember, death is very possible while diving.’ Confusion was all I knew as everything went black and a status screen appeared before me as it prompted me to allocate my stats for the dungeon.
(Available points: 10)
(Categories for dungeon: Speed, Balance, Attack.)
After looking at information in confusion for a long second as I started to wonder if I was tripping or still asleep, I somehow assigned four points to attack and three to speed and balance. When that was done, I found color returning to the world as a bike with no handlebars appeared beneath me. In my hands was a ten-foot pole and before me was a pathway that was 20 feet across and seemed to go on forever. Then there were the straight drop offs to both sides of path, that seemed to go into a bottomless pit below and suddenly I knew I was in a nightmare.