Chapter Three
Survivor’s Will has leveled up! Now level 2!
Horror Survivor has leveled up! Now level 2!
Survivor’s Will has leveled up! Now level 3!
Virginia felt the panic that had been crushing her chest and darkening her vision lessen slightly. The reappearance of the more bizarre aspects of her new life successfully distracting her from the horrible truth about her old one.
Survivor’s Will? That sounds familiar. I think that was on my… “character sheet”?
Virginia was sure that was the case. That was confirmed as the larger blue square containing her character sheet appeared in front of her again as she thought about it.
Name: Virginia Christianson
Race: Human (Story)
Age: 18 (0)(34)
Template: Final Girl
Path: Not Yet Selected
Health: 280/280
Mana: 80/80
STRENGTH: 6
REFLEXES: 9
SPEED: 11
VITALITY: 10
ATUNEMENT: 8
IMAGINATION: 10
WILLPOWER: 12
FAITH: 4
CHARISMA: 10
AWARENESS: 12
LUCK: 12
Conditions: Lightheaded, Panicked, Grip of Despair, Bruised, Filthy, Grace Period
Abilities:
Passive:
Worse Than It Looks (Lvl 1)
Horror Survivor (Lvl 2)
Final Girl (Lvl 1)
Survivor’s Will (Lvl 3)
Active:
Lucky Strike (Lvl 1)
Flee (Lvl 1)
Skills:
First Aid (Lvl 1)
Improvised Weapons (Lvl 1)
Running (Lvl 1)
Short Blades (Lvl 1)
Swimming (Lvl 1)
Virginia’s breathing steadied further as she read over her character sheet again.
That’s right, those two were both “passive abilities”. And now they’ve “leveled up”? Am I using them without meaning to? What are they doing?
Survivor’s Will has leveled up! Now level 4!
Virginia glared at the notification.
Yes, but why?
As the small blue screen vanished, she found herself once again staring at her character sheet, and she focused on Survivor’s Will on her passive ability list. Once again, seeming to respond to her thoughts and focus, the blue box shifted, additional words appearing below Survivor’s Will.
Survivor’s Will: Your story involved you being pitted against an opponent that was more powerful in you in every way, including ones you couldn’t fully understand. Surviving such an ordeal has tempered you against similarly horrific circumstances you find yourself in in the future. For every level of this ability, you receive a bonus against fear and despair that are caused by impossibly horrific situations. At higher levels, your strong survivor’s will shields you against effects that directly target your mind.
“What are you doing?”
Tryn’s voice, annoyance apparent in his tone, interrupted her in the middle of reading her ability’s description. Virginia ignored him until she was done.
So it kept her from being scared by ‘impossibly horrific situations’, and apparently, finding out you were a character out of a story who had now been pulled into a nightmare world full of evil clowns, qualified. Tryn snapped his fingers, his eye flames flickering into a series of strange shapes quickly before settling.
“What’s this? Survivor’s Will? Story involved, blah blah…”. He trailed off from reading her ability’s description, before letting out a snort.
“How revoltingly fortunate for you.” Tryn crossed his arms, staring down at her with a decidedly unamused expression. “It looks like your Template is going to ensure you survive long enough to really drag out your suffering. Congratulations!”
Virginia looked away from her character sheet and frowned up at him. She was finding it easier to keep her gaze on the dancing flames that served as Tryn’s eyes. Was it because of her Survivor’s Will ability getting stronger?
Does that mean Tryn himself counts as ‘an impossibly horrific situation’?
A brief flicker of amusement returned to his gaunt face, and Virginia reminded herself that he could apparently read her mind.
“Fine, fine, fine. If you’re not going to have a breakdown, back to why I’m here. Answering questions that you undoubtedly have.”
Virginia continued to frown at him.
Liar. Seeing me have a breakdown, that is why you actually came here, whatever you’re pretending now.
Tryn didn’t react to that thought. Either he wasn’t currently reading her mind, or he thought that it was obvious enough that it didn’t merit a response.
“Questions?”
Tryn performed his unsettling equivalent of rolling his eyes, where his flames flickered violently.
“Yes, questions. You’ve existed outside of a bad movie for less than an hour, and that limited set of experiences doesn’t give you even the flawed framework for all of this…”. He waved his hand in the direction of her still open character sheet, “…that the rest of humanity is working off of. So, ask your questions. This isn’t fun anymore, so I won’t be sticking around long.”
Virginia sincerely hoped that was true. “Can I trust what you tell me?”
Tryn immediately shook his head, the bells at the end of his hat dancing silently.
“Not at all. Not even a little. Not even now, the part where I’m telling you that you can’t trust me. But!” He held up one bony finger. “I will only lie to you when the truth wouldn’t hurt you more.” That wide grin reappeared on his face briefly. “I assure you, that will keep me honest more than you’ll like.”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Virginia stared at him silently, then shook her head. “No thanks.”
Tryn stretched his arms up over his head, then cracked his back nonchalantly, eye flames remaining fixed on her.
“Are you sure about that? Going into something’s mouth with your eyes closed only makes you feel better until it bites down.”
Virginia hesitated for a moment. She wanted nothing more than for Tryn to be as far away from her as possible, but he clearly knew a great deal about what was going on. She wasn’t sure when she would next have a chance to question someone with as much knowledge about the blue boxes, character sheets, and all the rest. She stared into his flames, feeling a pit forming in her stomach the longer she did.
Survivor’s Will has leveled up! Now level 5!
She shook her head again.
No. He came out here hoping to watch me have a breakdown. Whatever he knows, he’ll only tell me things that will ensure I get hurt somehow.
“I’ll figure it out on my own.”
Tryn unclasped his hands and extended one out towards her.
“I very much doubt that. Nice knowing you, little story.”
Without waiting for a response, he flipped the outstretched hand around and pressed his fingers together. He stared at her for a second longer, a trace of that cruel amusement appearing once more, before he snapped his fingers.
A thick cloud of purple smoke exploded out from where he stood, and Virginia scrambled backwards, gagging as a bit of errant breeze wafted some of the smoke into her face. It smelled foul and seemed to coat her tongue and skin. She wiped at her face frantically with a blood and mud-covered hand, coughing as she tried not to choke.
When she recovered and glanced back to where Tryn had been, he had vanished, even the foul-smelling smoke that had heralded his departure fading away in the flickering fire light of the lake shore.
She was alone once more.
* * *
Virginia was back to leaning against the overturned hull of the camp boat, the end furthest from the cartoonish hole that Tryn’s arrival had left in it. When she first leaned against it, it had slid slightly and the fire that was still burning at the other end had flared up a bit, but after no further signs that it was going to collapse, she had relaxed and turned her attention back to her character sheet.
Or she tried to, at least. She spent the first few minutes staring out over the surface of the lake, the feeble light from the fire not reaching the opposite shore. Now that it had been pointed out to her, the bizarre and limited nature of her existence was obvious. Not only did she not have any memories of her life (or lack of one) before coming to the camp, but even the strangely flat memories of her time there were full of holes. She remembered talking to Johnny by the campfire, but she had no memory of arriving at the campfire. Or leaving it. Her memory went right from Wallace finishing up a scary story about the “lake monster”, and all of them laughing at how much he’d over-acted the telling of it, to Heather asking her if she would go get some more bug spray from the supply cabin. The jarring transition should have been unsettling or headache-inducing, she was pretty sure. But the same way the memories felt flat, they also felt distant. She couldn’t muster up a strong emotional response to any of them, not even existential horror apparently.
Tryn said I was a character in a movie. So these flat memories are what, scenes from it?
Believing anything that the sadistic clown had said seemed foolish to Virginia. But at the same time…
I’ll only lie to you when the truth wouldn’t hurt you more.
That, she believed. The one thing that she felt like she could trust from the exchange was the clown’s interest in seeing her in pain. She’d been distracted by the unexpected messages about her Survivor’s Will ability, but not too distracted to miss how raptly he’d been watching her when she was nearly overwhelmed by finding out about the truth of her existence. How his flames had narrowed down to two pinpricks of purple light, darkening until they were almost black. Tryn had been sure that revealing her limited nature to her so bluntly and casually would break her, and he’d made no effort to hide his disappointment when it hadn’t.
So, it was likely the truth. She was a character from a movie. And, as she reviewed her memories, it was not a particularly good movie at that. Virginia thought back to her dramatic final words to the Blood Drinker Queen and shook her head.
Like her flat memories, after the initial shock, her nature as a fictional character come to life was less disturbing than she thought it should be. Whether that was because of her Survivor’s Will, or some other ability working, or because as someone who had only existed as a person for twenty minutes now, she simply wasn’t attached enough to her fictional life to mourn the loss of it.
Speaking of my abilities…
Virginia turned her attention back to her character sheet.
Name: Virginia Christianson
Race: Human (Story)
Age: 18 (0)(34)
Template: Final Girl
Path: Not Yet Selected
Health: 280/280
Mana: 80/80
STRENGTH: 6
REFLEXES: 9
SPEED: 11
VITALITY: 10
ATUNEMENT: 8
IMAGINATION: 10
WILLPOWER: 12
FAITH: 4
CHARISMA: 10
AWARENESS: 12
LUCK: 12
Conditions: Bruised, Filthy, Grace Period
Abilities:
Passive:
Worse Than It Looks (Lvl 1)
Horror Survivor (Lvl 1)
Final Girl (Lvl 1)
Survivor’s Will (Lvl 5)
Active:
Lucky Strike (Lvl 1)
Flee (Lvl 1)
Skills:
First Aid (Lvl 1)
Improvised Weapons (Lvl 1)
Running (Lvl 1)
Short Blades (Lvl 1)
Swimming (Lvl 1)
She noticed immediately that her conditions had updated, with Lightheaded, Panicked, and Grip of Despair had all disappeared. She was still ‘Filthy’ and ‘Bruised’, and glancing down at herself, her ribs still throbbing dully and most of her still caked in mud and blood, she couldn’t argue with that assessment.
There was also her third condition, ‘Grace Period’, which she turned her attention to, focusing on it and hoping for more information similar to what she’d been shown about ‘Survivor’s Will’ earlier. The sheet fluctuated, blue light flickering, and then complied.
Grace Period: You stand at the precipice. The Depths yawn open before you, but you have not yet fallen into them. Monsters will not spawn in your presence while in this state. Ravagers may not initiate hostile actions against you while you are in this state.
Virginia wasn’t sure what to make of the second part of that description. She wasn’t sure what a ‘Ravager’ was, or why one would be initiating ‘hostile action’ against her. Based on how Tryn had described the world ahead of her, and her own recent experiences with the monstrous creatures that had invaded the camp, she assumed ‘hostile action’ was a polite way of saying ‘murder and maiming’.
Although that still didn’t offer any clue about what a Ravager was.
As to the part about monsters not ‘spawning’ in her presence, the implication was that once this condition disappeared monsters would spawn in her presence.
Yeah, that seems like a sensible way of reading that.
She supposed that was a good thing, but there was no indication of when or why the Grace Period condition would disappear. For all she knew, that could happen any second, and she would be promptly swarmed by whatever her character sheet, and Tryn, considered ‘monsters’.
She glanced around warily, holding her breath for a second, then letting it out a whoosh when that didn’t immediately happen. Regardless, she resolved to try to read through the rest of her sheet as quickly as possible. A resolve that immediately faltered as an errant thought struck her.
Does it matter? I’ve apparently only existed for a bit less than two hours. None of the people I knew exist at all. What am I supposed to do now?
Virginia frowned at that. The thought annoyed her, even as she considered how to respond to it. The very idea of not surviving, of not doing everything she could to survive the situation she found herself in, made her angry to even consider. Regardless of how real it had been, she had survived. She had lived through violence and horror and the deaths of, apparently, literally everyone she knew.
It matters. It matters because I want to survive. Regardless of whether it’s because I was ‘written’ this way, it’s what I want. It’s who I am.
Virginia looked out over the water, the twisted carcass of the Blood Drinker Queen hidden somewhere beneath its placid surface.
I’m a survivor. I’ll survive.
A flicker of blue light caught her attention, as her character sheet flashed and shifted, responding to her thoughts.
Template Finalized! You may now select your Path!
Virginia blinked. She hadn’t consciously chosen to finalize anything. She wasn’t aware that was something she could, or should be doing.
Template? Oh yeah, that was one of the first things on my character sheet. It was listed as… she shifted the blue screens around and checked. …Final Girl? She focused on that, ignoring the second screen prompting her to select her Path, whatever that was.
Final Girl:
Your story template is that of the Final Girl. You are the survivor of horrid nightmares and impossible horror. Your story serves as both a beacon of hope for the ultimate triumph of humanity over darkness… and a stern reminder that not all will survive to see that triumph. The strong, the lucky, the fated, or the resolved will remain when claws have dragged others to die in the darkness.
The dichotomy of your story is that of survival, yours, and death, of all those around you. The abilities you receive will reflect that dichotomy. The Paths you receive will reflect how you have chosen to survive.
Paths available: Path of the Survivor, Path of the Chosen, Path of the Monster
Virginia was frowning again by the time she finished reading the description of her Template. There were… a lot of things that bothered her about that. A Template seemed like the Classes from Crypts and Creatures, but at the same time, different. What she’d seen of the game she kept referencing was more cut and dry, and the classes were very straightforward, like “Fighterman”. What she was looking at now was much vaguer.
I think it’s saying that I’m good at surviving, which is great. But everyone around me is going to die? Is it just because this will make me better at surviving than them, or is me being there somehow making them die? Killing them?
Virginia bit her lip, reading over the description for Final Girl again.
I guess it doesn’t matter right now, with no one around but me anyway. I should probably figure that out before I run into anyone though.
Not that she had any idea how to go about doing that.
She focused on the last part, about the Paths available to her, and the prompt about choosing a path jumped in front of her eyes, shifting and expanding.
You may now choose a Path! Your Template is a true reflection of what you are, and like so many parts of your identity, is determined for you, and not something you can choose. Your Path is where your choices lie. Your Template is what you are, but now you must choose how you will be.
The following Paths are available to your Template (Final Girl):
Survivor:
You simply survived. Maybe you were lucky, maybe you had another hero who was willing to lay down their life for yours, but for whatever reason, be it virtue or good fortune, you survive when all others perish. You may not ever be the strongest, the smartest, or even the most important… but you will always be the last one standing.
Monster Within:
You survived by becoming just as monstrous as what you fight. Alien DNA, a vampire’s bite, or an ancient and indiscriminate curse, you survived by surrendering your humanity in the name of survival and strength. You, more than any other Survivor, are likely to become even more powerful than any monster you face, but what will you be at the end?
Chosen One:
You survived because you were meant to survive. The ultimate fixation of the evil that hunted you, a reincarnation of another hero, or the subject of a prophecy, the story that is the world you live in revolves around you to some degree. You’ll survive, because you’re important to the “story”, and it needs you in it… but what role you’ll end up playing may end up out of your hands.
Virginia studied the blue screen intently, then let out a heavy breath through clenched teeth.
“Okay…” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and wincing a bit at the sensation of wet, rapidly drying mud rubbing against her already filthy t-shirt. “This seems important.”
Virginia paused, then snorted. “Arguably, one of the most important choices in my life. Not that that’s saying much.” She shook her head and read over the choices for her Path again.
I’m going to survive. Now let’s see how.