Chapter 5 - Baskerville

I braced myself for the attack, too paralyzed with fear to even attempt to equip my dagger. If a seasoned hunter like Camel had been killed by this creature in a matter of seconds, what chance did I have in total darkness?

The red eyes moved closer, and I felt hot, acrid breath on my face from the snarling canine mouth. The smell of sulfur was overpowering.

Just when I thought all was lost, two loud metal clangs echoed through the concrete chamber.

Several phosphorescent tubes tumbled from holes in the ceiling, landing and rolling through the empty aqueduct. The beast, now silhouetted by the glowing green lights, turned with a snarl.

Two figures slid down hanging ropes, descending into the chamber from either side. I recognized them immediately–the ones Camel had referred to as Bigwig and Rook. The heavy hitters who rolled with an entourage of Round Table hunters.

“Rook! There it is!” Bigwig shouted, letting go of the rope half way down and landing heavily on black combat boots.

He wore black pants, a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt, earrings, and some sort of gold medallion worn on a chain around his neck. Several brown straps or belts tied around his waist and thighs held holsters for various weapons, but the one he appeared to favor was a snub-nosed double-barrel shotgun.

On the other side of the room, Rook slid down head first, using only her legs to grip the black rope. She carried two automatic handguns, trained on the hound.

I saw that she wore a type of metallic tank top or bodice above black cargo pants. It was actually hard to know where the clothing ended and where her flesh began, as if the top were part of her. A metal collar was fitted around her neck, with chains leading somewhere behind her back. Her face was marked and scarred, and her thin eyes appeared pupilless in the glow of the phosphorescence.

The Baskerville Hound lunged at Bigwig, and I saw liquid fire seeping from its mouth.

Bigwig strode confidently forward, unloading blast after blast from his shotgun, punching holes in the large creature’s black fur. Multiple shots didn’t stop it–this creature was a magnitude of strength beyond the simple Hellhounds.

With a guttural roar, the dog vomited a stream of fire in Bigwig’s direction. He ducked and rolled out of the way in one fluid movement, reloading his shotgun.

Next Rook made her move. She did an acrobatic forward flip off the rope and landed on her feet, catlike, then side-stepped, shooting rapid bursts from her handguns at the hound’s head.

Furious, it turned its attention away from Bigwig and charged toward her.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Bigwig growled, punching holes in its hindquarters with another series of double-barreled shots.

The beast howled in pain and fury, blood leaking onto the floor.

Having spent both ammo clips, Rook dropped the handguns and reached behind her back. Now I saw what the chains around her collar were connected to. In a flash, she brandished two razor sharp sickles connected to metal chains, reminiscent of kusarigama.

She leaped into the air and landed, driving the tips of both blades into the monster’s skull. It let out an almost porcine squeal as it died. Soon it was melting away in a black puddle, and shimmering ephemera once again materialized in the air above the corpse.

Without thinking, I stalked toward the dancing lights. I felt drawn to them. They were hypnotic. Beautiful.

A shout from Bigwig snapped me out of my reverie.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

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He pointed his shotgun at me. I had not kept track, and couldn’t tell if it was empty or not. Either way, the gesture had its intended effect. I froze and raised my hands in the air.

“We saw you snatch the loot from Camel earlier,” Rook said. Her voice was like oil dripping off the edge of a knife. “Little magpie can’t keep its beak off the shiny baubles.”

I began to protest, but the mention of Camel made me search the ground for him. His body was gone, leaving only a bloody stain behind.

Oh, no. Camel.

“He’s the least of your concerns right now,” Bigwig said, pressing the shotgun under my chin. “In fact, you might as well go join him. We’ve been tracking this kill for quite some time. The bounty payment and the detritus are ours.”

Rook glided over, the sickles now reattached to her back, and gently put her hand on the barrels of the shotgun, pushing the weapon away. She looked me up and down with those pupil-less eyes, and it felt like she was seeing through me.

“No need for that. This one is no threat to us.”

I didn’t steal any loot. I didn’t intend to. Camel was my friend, or, I should say he was helping me. He took me on my first hunt.

“Best bet would be to steer clear of him,” Bigwig grunted, stowing his shotgun and stooping to gather the glowing sticks that littered the bloodied ground.

Why is that? He said he was the best sharpshooter in The Collective.

Bigwig snorted.

“He’s alright with that antique rifle of his. But the man’s got no ambition. He’s been here longer than most, and what does he have to show for it? Spends all his Crypt on drink, nostalgia cigarettes, and pleasure bots. I think that’s why he’s named Camel. His favorite brand of nostalgia cigarettes.”

You said pleasure bots?

“That got your attention, eh Magpie? You hanging around the Red Light too?”

Pleasure, I… I literally can’t afford that kind of pleasure. If you know what I mean.

Ignoring the comment, Rook came close and inspected my bleeding left arm. It still burned, now that the adrenaline of the attack was wearing off. She tore off the sleeve of my black coveralls.

Ouch. Hey. These clothes cost me 200 Crypt.

She produced some sort of vial (materializing it from her Inventory) and rubbed a chalky salve on the wound. My skin steamed when the salve contacted it, but the burning sensation reduced immediately.

Thank you.

“Some believe his data is corrupted,” Rook said, rubbing in the salve. “He was an early Volunteer and the rumor is his avatar missed an update to align with a newer patch. Whatever the truth, Camel is careless. Teaming up with careless hunters is bad news. That’s why Bigwig and I stick together. He’s the only one I trust to have my back.”

Was careless.

“Say again?”

You said Camel is careless, but I think you meant he was careless. That thing got him.

Bigwig shook his head dismissively.

“Shiva on a stick. You’re out here in the tunnels and you don’t know your right from left, up from down.”

Rook finished applying the salve and wiped her hands on her pants. Then, in a coordinated motion as if they had done so a hundred times before, her and Bigwig approached the floating pool of rewards from the kill and reached in with their hands simultaneously, equally dividing the spoil.

“Go back to the Rathskeller. You’ll find Camel. Just be sure to spit the reward from your bounty with him, otherwise he might come aiming for you next with that rifle of his.”

Rook and Bigwig turned to leave.

Wait!

They paused, but did not turn back to face me.

Can I come with you? I don’t know how to get back to The Commons from here. I have no light. And I have so many questions.

Rook reached into his inventory and materialized one of the glowing sticks I had seen before, roughly the size of a stick of dynamite. He tossed it backwards over his head and I reached out to catch it.

“There. You got light. Go back the way you came and you’ll be fine. Probably.”

Rook snuck one last glance in my direction, her impressive white dreads swaying with her every movement.

“No hard feelings, Magpie. You’ll only slow us down.”

Then they began climbing the ropes back up through the holes in the ceiling, pulling the ropes up after them. There would be no way for me to follow them, and I was alone in the darkness with only a green phosphorescent aura.

Magpie, huh? They had called me that nickname repeatedly and in such a way that I had an unpleasant premonition it would stick.

Standing in the echoey concrete chamber, I imagined what I would do if more of those glowing red eyes were to appear. My skin rippled with gooseflesh at the thought, and I quickly climbed back into the claustrophobic service tunnel.