Chapter 1

Welcome To The Suck

If there was a worse way to die, Alex couldn’t think of it. He’d spent his life worming out of dangerous situations, only to be taken out by a garbage truck. Doesn’t that figure?

His body was broken in too many places to count. The truck didn’t even slow down as it jumped the curb. It wasn’t like the driver couldn’t see him. Granted, he'd stuck himself in the dark space between two lampposts for the express purpose of not being seen but the truck had headlights and those headlights were working. Alex could attest to that. They were the last things he saw before the truck smashed into him like a...well, like a goddamn truck.

There had been a moment, a solitary glimmer of hope, when he thought he would bounce off the grill and roll onto the sidewalk, bruised, shaken, but otherwise unharmed. That moment passed as the force of the impact launched him into the brick wall of the building he’d been standing in front of.

His back hit first, and the sickening crunch of vertebrae shattering had thundered in his ears. Next to hit was his head. Blood filled his mouth, coppery and slick, as his teeth snapped shut and severed his tongue. After that, he lost track.

Now, body broken, arms and legs sticking out at odd angles, and the sharp stink of hot garbage settling into his nose, all Alex could do was watch as the truck’s taillights disappeared down the street and around the corner. The brake lights never even flashed. Texting. That was the only possible explanation for what had happened. Alex was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and some asshole had come along with his face buried in his phone, and hit him. What a waste.

Alex drifted in and out of consciousness. There was no way to know how long he had been laying there; three minutes, ten, an hour? All he knew was that those brief moments of nothingness were his only escape from the searing pain that coursed through his body like electricity. Why didn’t anyone call for help? It was the middle of the night but there were people in the houses around him, weren’t there? Someone must have heard the accident and yet the street was deserted. Alex would have called for an ambulance himself if he could. His phone was right there in his pocket but his arms refused to move. All he could do was lay there and wait for the end, which would be along at any moment.

This wasn’t how he expected the night to go.

Above him, the cold and distant stars looked down, indifferent to this particular drama. Alex tried to focus on them as a fresh wave of pain rocked his body. His mind swam and he forced his eyes wider, using the stars to tether him to reality. They were blurry and growing dark. Finally, Alex thought. This will all be over soon.

Then, faintly at first, he began to pick up sounds. There was a distant murmur, voices and laughter, a shout nearby. Someone was coming. They would see Alex on the street and get help.

Above him, the stars were gone. It took Alex a moment to realize that instead of the dark night sky, he was staring up into the brilliant blue of mid-day. Wispy clouds drifted by, disappearing behind the overhang of a squat stucco building. The murmuring voices and laughter had been replaced by the hum of a crowd, the clinking of metal, and the groan of heavy wooden crates.

The pain that had filled every inch of him a moment ago was gone. Instead of cold asphalt, he felt cobblestones beneath him, warm and smooth. Gingerly, Alex straightened his arms, then his legs. He flinched, waiting for the scream of broken bones and torn ligaments but there was no pain. In fact, Alex felt energized, refreshed.

“Okay…” he said as he cautiously flexed his fingers. He was alright and…alive?

Above him, a wooden sign creaked in the breeze. WELCOME. PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE. SOMEONE WILL BE ALONG SHORTLY.

Looking around, Alex saw that he was in the mouth of an alley. Behind him, a stack of wooden crates leaned precariously against a gray wall. Beyond the alley, people milled around. No, not people, things. Creatures of every shape and size moved past him. Some were tall and muscular, with thick arms and rough copper skin. Others were small and hairy and looked like three-foot-fall rat-human hybrids. Alex stepped to the mouth of the alley.

“What the hell is going on?”

As if in response, bright yellow words materialized, floating in the air in front of him.

Entering the Ratling Market

Alex reached up and tried to touch the words but his hand passed straight through. It was a projection but there was no screen or solid surface to project onto. The words simply hung there. He looked at the cobblestones and then the walls around him, expecting to see a lens or light emanating from somewhere, but there was nothing. An advanced projection, then. Words couldn’t just appear magically in mid-air.

The words faded and Alex stepped out of the alley. Wooden stalls lined both sides of the narrow street. The stall directly opposite him was piled high with glass orbs. They glowed faintly, casting a dull kaleidoscope of light on the rat hybrid sitting on a stool in front of them. As soon as Alex looked at the creature, a dialogue box appeared over his head. [RATLING]. The box faded when Alex looked away and reappeared when he looked back. Okay, that was weird. But then, he was looking at a child-sized rat wearing a blue smock, so really, weird was a fluid term at the moment.

The ratling noticed Alex looking and gestured to the orbs, raising one bushy eyebrow. Did he want to buy a blowing glass bowling ball? Great for home defense and all your dim-lighting needs.

Alex shook his head dumbly and the ratling flicked its tail, annoyed that Alex had wasted its time.

“Hungry mister?”

Alex jumped. In front of him, a small and dirty old man grinned, revealing gray and broken teeth. A box appeared over his head. [HUMAN]. In his hand, the old man held a skewer of greasy brown meat. Alex’s stomach rumbled as the fragrant aroma, a mouthwatering blend of Indian curry and dry rub bar-b-que, hit his nose. He was hungry. When was the last time he’d eaten? It must have been hours but he really couldn’t remember.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The old man winked and bobbed his bald head, putting the array of scabs and liver spots that dotted his scalp on full display.

“I thought so,” he said. “I can always spot them. As soon as I saw you I said to myself, Nol, that’s one who could use something to eat. Three coppers and it’s yours. Go on, you won’t find better.”

He shoved the skewer at Alex.

“What is it?” Alex stepped back as the man advanced on him.

“Never ask what’s on at the meat stall,” the old man said with a laugh. “Don’t you have sense?”

“I don’t eat anything unless I know what it is.”

The smile fell from the old man’s face. “What does it matter? Cat, ferret, griffin, it’s all the same with a little spice. Just take it.”

He tried to put the skewer in Alex’s hand but Alex pulled away. “I’m actually not hungry. Thanks.”

“Bastard,” the old man spat. Brown droplets flecked across his lips and chin. “You promised.”

He jabbed at Alex’s midsection with the point end of the skewer. Alex jumped back and turned to run, but before he had made it more than a step he collided with something solid and fell to the ground. He must have misjudged where he was standing and ran into the wall.

“Watch it,” the wall said in a gravelly voice. Alex looked up into a wide green face with small, cruel eyes. Not a wall, then. [ORC], the floating box above the creature’s head said.

“S-sorry.” Alex scrambled to his feet, narrowly avoiding impalement on the massive rusty hook hanging from the orc’s belt.

“He promised to buy meat from Nol!” The old man was hopping with rage.

“I didn’t,” Alex said.

The orc had had enough of the conversation and brushed past the old man with a sweep of his massive arm, knocking him into the wooden stall. The tower of meat skewers scattered across the ground as the stall collapsed in a cloud of dust.

Nol struggled to his feet. A trickle of blood ran down his scabbed forehead. He threw a skewer at the back of the orc’s head, which landed with an ineffectual plop before falling to the ground. The old man sniffed, gave Alex one last angry look, and then started cleaning up the mess. Those in the vicinity stopped what they were doing to watch the old man, and Alex had to push through the crowd to get away.

This was insanity; there was no other word for it. Actually, bat shit worked nicely. This was bat shit. What in the actual fuck was going on? He’d had a mental break. This wasn’t real, it was a hallucination. That was it. Something must have happened to him to bring this on. Something…he couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember? He’d woken up in that alley and before that…nothing.

Alex stopped dead in the middle of the street. Floating in the air two feet in front of him was a ball of sparking blue light. At the center of it was a tiny woman with a pair of gossamer winds on her back. She had a beautiful pale face and thick black hair that was pulled into a bun on the top of her head. A dialogue box appeared. [FAIRY].

Alex stared, captivated, as she turned to look at him.

“Fuck off,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly loud for her size. The fairy lunged at him, stopping a few inches from his face. Alex flinched.

“Pussy,” she said. The fairy turned and drifted off down the street, trailing blue sparkles behind her.

Alex stumbled backward and leaned against a bare wall. All around him, dialogue boxes were popping up, filling his field of vision. [DWARF], [RATLING], [GNOME]. There were too many to read. His heart was racing and his hands were starting to shake. Another few minutes of this and he’d pass out. Space, he needed space.

There was an alley nearby and Alex ducked into it. The alley was deserted save for a few flies buzzing around an overflowing trash bin. The smell of the bin stung Alex’s nose and a memory stirred at the base of his brain. Hot garbage…something about hot garbage was important, but what? He couldn’t remember, and at the moment, there were other things to worry about. Chief among them was figuring out what was happening and then getting the hell out of here.

Alex rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. Just breathe, he thought. Breathe and relax. There’s a logical explanation for all of this. All you have to do…

“What’s this?” a sneering voice said. Alex’s head shot up. Four dark figures stood at the mouth of the alley. Two were human, one was another ratling. The fourth was a tall lizard-like creature on two legs, with a thick green tail and long, pointed teeth. A wicked looking knife hung from its belt. The dialogue box above its head said [KOBOLD].

“Not lost, are you?” the kobold said. He leered hungrily while the other three grinned. Alex’s body tensed. Whatever was about to happen, it wouldn’t be good.

“Listen,” Alex said. He stepped forward, raiding his hands to show that he was unarmed. “I don’t know what’s happening here, or where I even am. And I don’t want to fight. Why don’t you just leave me alone.”

“Doesn’t want to fight,” the ratling said. “That’s good. We doesn’t want to fight, either.”

“No fighting in the market,” one of the humans said. His face was obscured by a dirty black beard but Alex knew from his tone that he was smiling. “So we don’t fight you, little man. Just give us what you got.”

“I don’t have anything,” Alex said. His eyes darted between the four figures, waiting for one to move. It was the kobold who stepped forward, drawing the long knife.

“Little man doesn’t have anything,” the lizard said. “What’s he doing in the market if he doesn’t have anything?”

“Can’t buy nothing from the ratlings without a few coppers,” the other human said. His thumbs were stuck jauntily in his belt and while Alex didn’t see a weapon, he suspected the man’s fists, or his boots, would do plenty of damage.

“Nah,” the kobold said. “You got something in those pockets, I’m sure. We’ll just have to see.”

The four of them advanced, spreading out to fill the alley. Alex stepped back, putting his back against the wall. He didn’t know how to fight, yet his muscles were taut as bow strings. He felt ready, as though his body knew what was coming. His breath had slowed and while his hands were still trembling, it was less out of fear and more with anticipation.

The ratling darted forward first, running wide to come at Alex from the side. Its small hairy face was pulled back in a grin. The two humans came at him from the other side while the kobold sauntered slowly to the front, the chipped blade held loose in its hand.

The ratling jumped but Alex was ready for it. He clenched his fist and swung. The moment before it made contact with the ratling’s jaw, the creature froze. It hung in midair, its beady eyes darting back and forth in surprise. Then, in an instant, it was ripped down the alley and flung into the busy street. It crashed into one of the stalls and there was a chorus of angry shouts.

The other three stopped dead in their tracks and turned as one toward the opening of the alley. There, a diminutive man stood, one hand on his hip and the other holding a short, glowing staff. He grinned and raised the staff above his head.

The three would-be attackers rose into the air as one and were slammed into the stucco wall with a heavy crunch. They slid down the wall and landed in a pile, with the kobold on the bottom. It whimpered pathetically.

“Out of here, you bastards,” the tiny man said. “And don’t let me catch you here again.”

The two humans climbed unsteadily to their feet and hauled the limp form of the kobold up between them. They ran past the little man and out of the alley without a second look.

The little man stepped forward with a wide grin on his face. It took Alex a moment to realize that there was no dialogue box floating above his head.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You’re meant to be by the meat cart, not here in this alley.” His voice was deep and gravelly, like the orc that Alex had run into. But this man was barely three feet tall, with bright, mischievous eyes and a tuft of orange hair on the top of his head. A patchwork vest was stretched across his bare chest.

“Who are you?” Alex said. Cautiously, he stepped toward the tiny figure. The staff had stopped glowing and Alex could now see a small purple crystal set into a notch at the top.

“My name is Kippondelsthog.”

Alex shook his head, not understanding. His whole body trembled and he thought he might pass out.

“Kip,” the little man said. “You can call me Kip. I’m your guide, Alex. Welcome to Echo.”