The Reclaimer Zombie slammed all six fists into the ground with a final thunderous crash. For a moment, nothing moved in the cavern. Then, the change began.
Tom could see a purple haze surrounding its fists, which started to condense and become more solid with each passing second. He could barely make out what was happening beneath the haze, as could the others.
Starting with its jaundiced fingernails, the haze passed over them, turning the skin and nails pitch black. As the skin blackened, the haze seeped into it, replacing its black blood. The transformation oozed up its arms, moving like molten tar as it flowed slowly across the mottled greyish-green patchwork. It left behind a shining black marble pulsing with unnatural purple veins, glowing faintly like phosphorus in the dark, lighting up the area around it with a veil of purple and green.
The creature's three sets of arms elongated grotesquely; gunshots sounded out as sinew and bone cracked and snapped, reforming themselves to match their new shape. The hands curled and lengthened, the fingers becoming thinner and sharper, becoming jagged, obsidian talons, each nearly the size of the sword Dave held. The talons stretched out, grasping out as if to tear the air in the room apart.
As the wave of change passed over the torso, it expanded like a balloon, ribs cracking outward, creating a mountain range of protrusions beneath the skin before they broke through, forming a jagged jungle of bone and blood that overlooked a valley of sickly grey skin that was unchanged by the haze. The green mist which surrounded the beast was sucked into these bony extensions, the chest expanding as green mist fought with purple haze until finally, the grey valley in the middle of its chest was filled with the sickly green gas. Traces of it floated from the broken bone tips, creating small clouds like the tops of trees, a putrid parody of nature and life. As the haze passed its legs, they began to swell, the muscles bulging under the skin before they pushed through like a bloody worm emerging from its cocoon. The skin sloughed off until the legs looked like fire-ravaged tree trunks, the skin hanging off like peeled bark.
Tom had gotten used to the stench in the room, the smell of rot and decay mostly blending into the background as they fought their way through the ambush. But as he watched, the stench intensified with the metallic tang of ozone and the sour tang of something he couldn’t quite place. His stomach roiled, and he gasped, fighting back the urge to vomit as his stomach threatened to unleash what little was left inside of it.
He looked up just as the final phase of the change began. The reclaimers' blood-red eyes burst as the purple haze passed over, twin points of searing green light replacing them. Looking into the light, Tom lost the fight with his stomach, and a small pool of bile escaped his mouth as his stomach churned. He wasn’t the only one. Both Adam and Mark were suffering the same fate, with only Dave managing to keep what little dignity he had left. The slack features of its face tightened into something feral, its mouth elongating into a jagged maw lined with uneven, dagger-like teeth. Once fat and sluggish, the tongue became a whip dripping with thick green sludge that dribbled out onto its chin and down onto the floor.
The transformation over, the Reclaimer stood silently, watching the four of them.
Tom looked over at the others. Mark wasn’t doing too well. He was still on his knees; his weapons were beside him on the ground where he had dropped them. His hands trembled and shook as he stared open-mouthed at the monstrosity in front of them.
Adam had picked himself up off the ground, but for the first time since they had met, Tom thought that he looked unsure, his brow furred and mouth set in a grimace. Before, he hadn't panicked in the fights against the zombies either, seeming to take everything in stride and would charge into battle headfirst. But now, he gazed at the reclaimer listlessly as if mentally checking off his options, each one worse than the one before.
As Tom turned to look at the final member, he was already walking past him toward the Reclaimer. His short sword was clutched, white-knuckled, in his hand. His teeth were clenched together as his mouth slowly split into a smile across its face, too wide, too deliberate, his yellowed teeth on display for all to see. His eyes were narrowed as they stared at the Reclaimer, locked on, unmoveable. As he stalked forward, a steady stream of vitriol and malice was uttered under his breath as if his anger was a spell he could cast on his enemies.
As Tom watched, Dave began sprinting, the volume of his hate-filled ranting increasing with each step until he was bellowing his strange war cry from the top of his lungs. The Reclaimer matched him in kind, roaring out a counterargument of bile and spittle before loping forward into a charge, all six of its claws spread wide. As they drew closer, Tom couldn’t look away. The spectacle was so bizarre it almost made him forget about everything that had happened today. He was expecting the result to be a red smear and bits of pieces of the angry man spread around the cavern, but instead, something else happened.
As the two were about to collide, Dave slid feet first under the reclaimer, narrowly missing the claws that grabbed for him and leaving a small gash in its onyx flesh as he swung his sword mid-slide. Hopping up on the other side, he commenced a series of slashes that tore into the reclaimer's back, causing it to turn and reach awkwardly for him. At the same time, he scurried about, dipping under claws, scrambling between its legs, and somersaulting over its feeble attempts to grab him, slashing all the while with his sword. The only thing that didn’t surprise Tom was that stream of insults, swearing, and promises of further violence didn’t stop the entire time. He stood watching the fight flabbergasted, his brain was refusing to accept that what he was seeing was possible.
How is he doing that? He thought to himself. I would be a pancake on the ground or cut to ribbons by now; how can he duck and weave like that?
Just as the thoughts entered his head, Adam turned to face the two of them. The salesman was back.
” Come on, you two, we can’t leave him to fight that thing alone; we’re not here for a holiday at the beach after all.” He smiled as he spoke, gesturing towards where Dave and the reclaimer were playing their high stakes catch game with one arm while his other lazily flipped the sword onto his shoulder.
Tom looked back to where the fight was happening.
How are we supposed to fight this thing? What does Adam expect us to do? Nothing I can do would help against that thing! Tom’s mind raced as he thought about what to do. Spear? Dave’s sword can barely cut its skin, the spear might do a little better, but I doubt it. Be a distraction? Dave is faster than I am and no way in hell I could avoid that thing for long enough! Hit and run with Mark? No way in hell, one hit from that thing would crush him. Fire? I still haven’t figured out how to use it yet…
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Every tactic and idea from the fights against the skeletons and zombies seemed to have a counter when he thought about the Reclaimer. He could feel his heartbeat rising, and his breathing quickened with each idea he shot down. There was nothing they could do. They were all going to die here, and there was nothing he or the others could do. His eyes widened as he came to his conclusion, his breath increasing again in time with his heart rate. He looked back at Adam.
Adam hadn’t moved. He stood looking at them, waiting, his still smile plastered on his face.
What does he expect me to do? There is nothing we can do… is there?
Tom looked at the spearhead, which was still alight. The flame was still only burning around the bottom of the spearhead, where he had wrapped the oily tape from the torch. As he stared into the flame, a calm overcame him. He could feel a soothing warmth spread from the pool in his chest to every part of his body. As the wave reached his heart and lungs, he felt his breathing and heart rate calm down and return to normal. As it reached his head, his thoughts slowed and crystallised; parts of ideas came together to form a semblance of a plan, a way through that they might be able to use to survive.
He looked at the other two.
“Have you two checked your statuses yet and applied your skill points?” he asked.
Mark’s head shook as if waking from sleep, his eyes refocused on Tom. He nodded.
“Yup, I specced myself out as a proper swordsman. I probably won’t be able to dodge like him,” said Adam, chucking a thumb to the side to indicate Dave, who was still pirouetting and dancing around to avoid the Reclaimer's claws. “But if I can get in sword range, I can do some decent damage; just forget about me taking a hit, though.”
“Right, quick plan then. You and I help Dave. I’ll try to distract it while you get behind it and see if you can cut through its ankles. If you can get through the skin and get its tendons and muscles, we can limit how much it moves, which means it’ll be easier to take down and avoid.” Tom detailed as he got to his feet. “Can you take a hit from that thing with your shield?” he asked Mark as he sued Evaluate to check his shield’s condition. Finding that it was still in good condition, he refocused on Mark.
“Yes, maybe one or two at least.” He responded with some hesitation. To Tom, it seemed like he was calmer now.
As more parts of a plan came to his mind, he thought that if they could keep Mark’s attention on the fight, maybe they could stop him from breaking down again. During the fighting, he had seemed fine; it had only been the initial appearance of the Reclaimer and its transformation that had unsettled him.
“Good. If Dave and I keep its attention, you two can attack from behind it. Mark, if it tries to attack you guys and you can’t dodge, you’ll have to block it for you and Adam.” Both men nodded after Tom finished issuing orders.
“Look at that; the general is back,” Adam said in a tone that Tom wasn’t sure was mocking or relieved. “Glad you weren’t going to leave everyone else to do the work.”
Tom only realised after Adam had finished speaking, but for some reason, his nervousness when speaking to the others was gone, as was his trepidation of fighting. He’d been trying to hide it since the beginning, trying to be someone other than the person he had been before. If this had been yesterday and had been back in the office, he would never have spoken like that, giving orders to someone else. Now, though, he felt like he didn’t care what others thought about him. He could still feel the warmth from the pool in his chest spreading about his body.
I wonder if that thing in my chest is doing that? Something else I’ll need to figure out once this is done.
All three of them started to make their way toward the fight. Dave was beginning to slow, his breathing rapid, and his shoulders slumped.
I need to get in there now, or he’ll be caught soon. I still don’t know how I’m going to manage to dodge that thing. I can’t move like Dave… yet… As Adam and Mark peeled off and started to run around the reclaimer to get behind it, Tom stopped and activated his full menu, which he hadn’t checked for some time.
Status – chapter 12
Name: Thomas Moore
Race: Human (G)
Class: None
Subclass: None
Level: 4 (2725/3200)
Attributes
Strength: 7
Agility: 9
Endurance: 8
Vitality: 8
Intelligence:12
Wisdom: 11
Skills
Evaluate (Common) 2 (58/60)
Instincts (Uncommon) 1 (1/30)
Magic Sense (Basic) (6/25)
Ember Spark (Basic) (3/25)
Polearm Mastery (Basic) (9/50)
1 Skill point available
Titles
Selected of Lemures
Affiliation
None
The three points he’d gained in each attribute had been a nice bump, on paper at least. Apart from his stamina being better and maybe running slightly faster, he hadn’t really noticed any of the other effects of his increased attributes.
I wonder if they are fake, something to keep us going without actually giving us anything. I wonder if whoever designed this used to run my company, they would have fit right in there.
Refocusing, he quickly checked his skill list. There hadn’t been any changes, but he hadn’t been hoping for any. There was one skill on which he was pinning his hopes of survival. Even with a shield, he didn’t rate his chances of surviving a hit very high, so his only other chance was to use Instincts as much as possible and evade the Reclaimer's attacks. He had only one skill that would be able to help him with that. Selecting it, he quickly read its description.
Skill: Evasion
Attribute – Agility
Rarity - Basic
Cost – 1 Skill Point
Dodging is as much an art as it is a reaction. Unlocks the ability to anticipate and avoid attacks with precision. Enhances the speed of reflexive movement and reaction speed by 2% per level and + 1.5% Agility.
Checking the description, the skill would only give him a very modest increase in his reaction speed and reflexes. But it might just be enough for what he needed.
The last time Instincts warned me, I just got out of the way in time. If I have this, I’ll have a better chance at dodging anything that thing throws at me. I only need to hold its attention for as long as it takes Mark and Adam to cut through its legs. So maybe a few minutes at most. Any more than that, and I’ll be in trouble.
He selected Evasion, and seeing that Mark and Adam were almost in place, he ran forward, yelling at Dave to get back and recover. Dave didn’t even turn to look at him, and Tom didn’t need to hear him know that he had already started a verbal retort, but in his new frame of mind, Tom didn’t care about what the other man thought of him. His mind felt refreshed and focused as if he had just spent a week preparing for an exam at high school, and he knew everything he needed to get a perfect score.
He had barely gotten within a few meters of the Reclaimer when Instincts started screaming at him to move. He could feel that the threat was coming from the direction of the Reclaimer, but he couldn’t tell if it was the Reclaimer or something else. Looking around, he noticed the Reclaimer standing above the fallen corpses of the zombies he and Mark had killed. It had grabbed two, holding them in its claws, while standing above another two.
Without warning, one of the reclaimer's hands snapped forward, the zombie in its hands went flying, and Instincts went ballistic.