Chapter 5: On into Darkness

~

Deciding that practice of his newly integrated skills would have to be put on hold for the moment, Atlas was then faced with the decision of what to do with his final six power points. He could use them as a quick boost, or hold off for more expensive skills down the line.

“Ah, might as well save them. Can always just use them in an emergency if need be.” Mentally shrugging, he wasted no more in time, but simply allotted his last three atribute points into Might, Agility, and Resolve. At this point, there was really no way to figure out what kind of build he wanted to go for, so best to get a some what solid foundation.

A similar flash of energy rolled across and through his skin, though less powerful when he had been wounded and put multiple points into vitality. Sharp pain similar to an electric shock, followed by a soothing sensation. The afteraffects still made him feel like his extremities had all been asleep, and he took a second to shake out his limbs.

Stronger. He felt stronger, and not just in a physical sense. It was as if his whole body had received an upgrade. He felt awake to his surroundings, the bitter chill no longer as much a concern. Oh, it was still terribly cold, but Atlas felt like if need be he could survive it. Which was good, because he only had one mission right now. Besides surviving of course.

He needed to find his sister.

~~~

The mountain area Atlas had spawned in appeared to cover a massive amount of territory. Even when he had been on the top of the waterfall and gotten a hasty glance of the horizon, it had been nothing but dark forest and snowy peaks. Finding his way out would not be easy, even if he was able to locate other people.

Considering this, his first act was to start looking for decent shelter. Sure, his 3 points of vitality might have given him a small health boost, but it wasn’t just the weather he needed to watch. There was no way to forget his first few minutes in this place. Beasts of all kinds were on the prowl, and they seemed hungry. It was likely the aliens that had kidnapped people from Earth (and other planets?) also grabbed the local wildlife while they were at it. And nothing that survived the cold north would be easy prey.

Now, Atlas certainly didn’t consider himself a brilliant woodsman. In fact, he rated himself somewhere right in the middle of most people on the planet. Comfortable enough with hiking and camping, but not used to living in the woods on a daily basis. This environment was something you normally only read about, or watched during a History channel rerun on French mountain men in the 1700s.

Basically, he should be screwed. Except now he had skills. That changed everything, and gave Atlas the kind of boost needed to actually consider the possibility of success. Even as he began hiking through the woods, he continued to practice the three basic skills he’d purchased. He quickly realised they had some limitations.

[Basic Dodge] was great for a short sidestep, but would be pointless if you were surrounded by multiple foes. Its cool-down of thirty seconds wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t that good either. [Basic Thrust] did work with his stone dagger, but again, not a good idea to be within easy striking distance of a creature like the alpha wolf. He really needed to purchase the spear for it to be worth activating. The last skill, [Basic Slam], was decent enough, but he was only able to activate it after picking a stout branch to wield. If the driftwood club was basic, his stick would probably break after the first strike. He could probably hit some real homers with it though. Both of those skills had a cooldown of around two and half minutes.

His first skill [Reach Beyond] was just too nebulous and confusing. If it had been more detailed, he’d at least be able to get an idea of what use it could be. For the moment, he refrained from practicing with it. It seemed like a last chance wild card anyway.

Also, he sucked at moving quietly. Other than practicing skills, Atlas had tried to keep somewhat of a steady pace, just about a slow jog. This had the unfortunate side effect of causing a clatter of noise each time one of his tools swung around on his makeshift harness. Going slower might help, but he could feel that time was not on his side. The forest seemed to be absorbing the ambient light, causing an odd filter of shadows and hazy mist to obscure his vision. Once nighttime arrived, it would become pitch black. The thought made him shiver again.

The time passed quickly and he estimated that he’d run a couple of miles, when in the distance a plume of smoke caught his attention. It was black, dark and volumous, similar to someone burning rubber. The stark outline was easily noticeable against the gray sky, and he traced its origin to somewhere farther in the valley. Maybe other tournament participants? Figuring the alternative was better than nothing, Atlas altered his course to track down the billowing column.

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About an hour later, he figured out where the smoke was coming from.

It was a village. A small one, like you might see on a fantasy post card. It lay sprawled across a few hills, patches of farmland surrounding the outskirts. And it had been completely torched.

Crouching near the tree line, Atlas took stock. There wasn’t any obvious movement, and the flames seemed to have already died down to embers. Whatever had happened here probably occurred right after the tournament started. Carefully, sticking to the edges of the village, he made his way through the devastation. Then he saw the first body.

It had been burnt beyond recognition, but was obviously a human corpse. And there more bodies beyond. Feeling sick, he continued to creep around the husks of still smoldering buildings, any thought of loot or companionship disappearing. This place was a massacre. The only thing he could compare it too were the old photos of napalm strikes in Vietnam.

Questions arose, his minded spinning. Who were these people? Were they supposed to be NPCs? Or was this some actual earth village that had been completely torn up and transplanted here. And why was everyone dead?

Of course, there was one question he dreaded most.

What, or who, had done this?

Deciding that it wasn’t worth sticking around, Atlas leaned over and scooped up a decently sized smoldering spar; then gave one final glance and quietly left, slipping into the trees beyond the fields. The questions would have to wait.

There was a much smaller stream nearby that had been diverted to the village, so hopefully it would lead back to the larger river. Fire wouldn’t be an issue now, but he didn’t really want camp anywhere nearby this place, just in case.

Not long after leaving the area, as he was resting for a moment to catch his breath and inspect his surroundings, Atlas felt something watching. It was weird, because there was nothing he could see in a full 360 degree spin, even after he carefully inspected each tree, and every bush. But something was out there. And it was tracking him.

Of course, there was also the small fact that he hadn’t run into any other wildlife. Sure, the cold would probably cause most animals to seek shelter. Even so, there were no birds, or wild hare, or tracks of deer and wolves. The absence of these things had been bothering him for a while, but only the awareness of being hunted brought these clues to the forefront.

Worse yet, twilight was beginning to approach.

At this point, Atlas started looking for either a large tree or a steep embankment he could dig out. Somewhere he could have his back defended at least. The utter relief he felt at seeing a small natural cave above the river was palpable. Whatever was watching him was still out there, but at least this way he could build a fire and have a defensible front. Scoping out the place revealed nothing but old fur scraps and loose roots. “Perfect for every budding stone-age survivalist,” he thought to himself.

Dropping his tools inside, he kept the hatchet and quickly started gathering wood. A few dead trees near the cave made it easy, but he kept stopping to glance around. The feeling had intensified.

Atlas had never really had much of a sixth sense as people call it. Sure, he could subconsciously come to a conclusion as easy as the next guy, but figuring out if a guy was dead-eying him, or a girl was flirting, was next to impossible. He just didn’t notice things outside his peripheral that easily. Heck, half the time he didn’t want to! Music had been a constant companion in high school, drowning out the sorrows of such a mindless existence. College had been the same. He’d had a very “don’t bother me and I won’t bother you” kind of attitude.

Which was exactly why this feeling was so odd and uncomfortable. It wasn’t just a small suspicion that maybe a creature was observing him. It was an absolute certainty. Something had been hunting him. No, stalking him. And now it was observing its next meal. It chilled him to the bone.

Quickly hacking apart a decent section of the tree, he threw it together in the middle of the cave. Using the smoldering end of the brace he’d picked up, he waited as the wood dried, then finally began to catch. The shadows grew, elongating into the forest, even as the sound of the river nearby seemed muffled. Darkness crept along the ground, the forest waiting with bated breath as the overcast sky grew dimmer and dimmer.

A crack sounded out, trees being bent and pushed aside by something massive. The pounding thud of footfalls shook the ground, heading in Atlas’s direction. A screech in the darkness, the bellow of a beast in pain. Howls. Not wolves, he would recognize that sound. Something else.

More growls, deep and harsh. There! Out of the darkness rose a shadow, its form breaking the treeline and pounding in his direction. His blood ran cold, and deep within, Atlas felt the pulse of something ancient awaken again. One hand held the dagger, the other a hatchet. The flames to his back, rising to meet the shadows, flickering against the darkness. Stoking a fire building in his gut.

The beast entered the light. A grizzly bear. Old, by the looks of it. Scars across its face and flanks. Jagged teeth hung against flapping jowls and bloody claws stretched inches long. It was wounded.

Atlas startled at the realization. The bear, staring at him, watching his stiff form, was bleeding from deep lacerations across its back. From beyond, in the darkness, the exultant howl of a predator broke forth.

Both of them, man and bear, creatures born of another world, were prey tonight.

Figures moved at the edge of the light, slinking and scraping across the ground. Twisted shadows that grew elongated claws, reaching to plunge into the bear’s side. A hatchet whirled in the night, thrown with more strength than aim. It plunged into the shadows, striking flesh. A furious screech accompanied the hit, and the shadows retreated.

Atlas met the eyes of the bear, and with a nod moved to the side, opening up an area within the cave. The beast accepted, shoving its large form within, then turned to face the dangers it had been fleeing. Atlas grabbed his pick.

Then, together, they faced the encroaching darkness.