“We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too.”
-John F. Kennedy, September 12, 1962
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Yawn… Tap, tap tap…
It was hot. Summertime has begun, children are just getting out of school for summer camp, grabbing ice cream cones, turning the air conditioner on full blast, and having fun like they never had it before. The day is June 21st and I am not having fun.
My name is Dennis. Dennis Piper. I work as a cashier in a convenience store on 1200 Walter Street. The street is a little run down but otherwise has that homey feel to it, you know the one– like nostalgia mixed with a fluorescent yet subtle sweetness. At least, it was home to me. Other people have a distaste for the damp, dark alleyways of the classic city life that Illinois has. The gun part it has is completely untrue– it’s actually a pretty safe neighborhood, in my humble opinion. I’ve been living here for most of my life and I never got robbed or mugged or shot or bullied outside of grade school. I’d like to say I’ve had a pretty uneventful life. And, yes, that is correct. It’s boring as limbo. Not hell because at least it’d be interesting, if not torturous. Nobody goes through hell expecting silence.
I check my phone for recent news. It’s a great way to pass the time as I listen to the same song on repeat, over and over again over the store’s speakers. Something you’d hear on an elevator– never learned the name of the song. Hated it since the second week I started working here six months ago. I stand up and slam my hand on the table at the sight of a headline. “Another missing person report?! Really?” I rhetorically ask no one in particular. Nobody’s in the store other than me right now, mostly because it’s getting close to the evening and there are far better places to go to than a convenience store. Recently, for nearly a month now, there have been a large number of people going missing all over the globe. The America I live in, China, Britain, the Czech Republic, Brazil, any place you could think of probably has someone who just… vanished. Into thin air, like poof! No tracks, no evidence, just witnesses and camera footage of people being there and suddenly just not there anymore. Investigations are being done but nothing has turned up. Videos have gone viral, tears have been shed, and nobody accomplished anything. Amazing, right? Clearly, something is wrong.
I sat back down to browse social media some more. There isn’t anything I can really do about the whole ‘missing persons reports’ if the top brass can’t. Cute cat video here, child falling over there… “Sigh, good lord… It’s just the same old same old, huh?” I lean back into my chair, putting one leg onto the other for a more comfortable position, talking to myself to pass the time. “You know, I wonder where all those people went… Gotta be somewhere cool and secret if nobody has been found yet.” I feel like I’m going insane talking to myself.
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As though God himself deigned that I needed something interesting to do, I heard the bell above the entrance door ring, an indication that someone had entered the building. I didn’t look up from my phone and just let whoever entered do their thing until they rang the bell at the counter to say ‘look at me, I’m ready to pay.’ However curious I was as to why the customer was panting so hard, the funny kid falling over on my phone proved to be more eye-catching. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for them to come over and ring the bell as if they only wanted what was at the counter, like gum or the lottery.
I stopped looking at my phone to look at the customer. “Alright, what can I get for–” I stopped dead in my sentence. This guy looked nothing like some average joe. He was panting hard. He has some purple gunk all over his body. I vaguely smelled iron. Must be from the blood all over him, too. And his clothes, he looks like someone out of a fantasy! Are those claws?! No, just clawed gauntlets and–
I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from throwing up at the purple, tentacled head he’s carrying. As a once avid fan of tabletop games, even I know what an Illithid looks like. So why the fuck does he have the head of a fictional creature?
Before I could really get a response out in my cold sweat, he dropped the head on top of my counter. It had an audible Thump! to it .With a gruff voice, he said, “I’m here to drop this off.” I went to ask him how, in the everloving hell, could he have gotten a convenience store to be his destination, but before I got a single word out he cut me off with “It’s for my quest.” I felt as though stopping him would be… dangerous, so I let him go out the door. The guy had claws on his hands, of course I wasn’t gonna stop him. So I just sat there, hyperventilating slightly, staring at this head with tentacles and glazed-over eyes. I mumbled swears to myself, asking to no one why this just got handed to me on a metaphorical silver platter.
With reluctance, I grabbed the head and put it under the counter, to where nobody–
Congratulations!
For your first interaction outside of the Netherworld being the concealment of the object [Head of Slephrigekt the Immortal], you have obtained the Class [Psychokinetic] at the (Touched) level!
Congratulations!
Due to the circumstances regarding the obtaining of your first Class [Psychokinetic], you have obtained the Subclass [Mind Flayer Disciple]!
Congratulations!
For your first questline interaction outside of the Netherworld being the transfer of an absurdly rare good in exchange for a reward, you have obtained the Job [Merchant] at the (Rookie) level!
I could only stare once more as a trio of blue screens filled my vision. Three words managed to escape my mouth, pulling away from the abhorrent shock.
“... What the fuck…?”