Elias is two blocks north, his figure shadowed in a cloud of wings. There have to be at least half a dozen of the monsters, maybe more. They blur into one another, a squall of glinting teeth and hellish fury.
I don’t see any vines behind him, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
“Ron, you’re on! Luci, grab a bottle!”
Tossing the machete to the sidewalk, I snag a Stella bottle from the line-up, ignore the stiff ache in my leg, and limp-jog down the road to face the mob.
Luci steps in beside me, bottle in one hand, lighter in the other. Her handgun is tucked in the waistband of her miniskirt. Probably not safe, but what are you gonna do.
She looks up at me, the loose hairs in her braid dancing in the wind. “You first?”
“Not yet.”
The monsters are too close to Elias. One of them clings to his shoulder, its teeth firmly locked around his flesh, talons scrabbling at his back.
The swarm nears. Elias is only a block away now. Soon, we’ll have no choice but to throw and hope for the best.
I spare a glimpse at Ron. He’s just about ready.
As I fish a lighter from the pocket of my hoodie, I take a deep breath. I’ve only ever seen this in movies. If the internet worked, I’d at least have been able to watch a tutorial or look up a WikiHow or whatever. This is not something you want to just wing, though I don’t really have a choice, do I?
I flick my thumb over the wheel, willing it to spark. Once, twice, and ladies and gentlemen, we have fire. I barely have to touch the flame to the cloth before the whole thing ignites.
Just one more second…
Behind me, there’s a sudden snap. Electronics crackle, the amp buzzes. And then, finally, there comes the crooning lick of a bass guitar.
A series of boomy notes reverberate down the street. The monsters don’t know what to do. In a chorus of horrible screeches and burbling chirps, they rear up, their wings flapping in place. Just for a moment. Just enough to give Elias the room he needs.
“Elias, out of the way!”
I don’t have to ask twice. The man dives off the road. Wrenching back my arm, I hurl the bottle.
It happens so fast. One moment, I’m setting it free. The next, there’s an explosion of heat as the swarm fractures into a plume of gorging fire. Flapping wings disintegrate into blazing tatters, spitting licks of fire and smoldering sparks. As the monsters fall, they scream. It stinks, an acrid mix of burnt fish and leather. One by one they flutter in fire until they drop in a heap of sputtering flames. Glowing whirls of ember wither in the wind until almost nothing is left but cinder.
I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.
1.
Enemies Defeated:
Flying Piranha (Lv 2) x4
Flying Piranha (Lv 2) [Shared with Elias] x2
Exp: 50
Earned: 250g
2.
Level up! You are now Level 5.
Exp to next level: 10/50
Attribute points earned: 3
3.
Title(s) Earned:
Firebug: Use fire to eliminate an enemy.
Reward: (1) Lesser Liquid Fire Voucher
Pyromaniac: Use fire to eliminate 5+ enemies at once.
Reward: (1) Lesser Liquid Fire Voucher
4.
Class Discovered:
Cultist of the Mystic Fire
Triggered by: Damaging an enemy with fire.
Fire. A giver of life. A destroyer of worlds. Across time, humans have worshiped and feared fire in equal parts. Will you provide kinship and warmth like the Albanian fire deity, En, or will you instill fear like Amon, the Grand Marquis of Hell, that cometh like a serpent of flame? Will your fires call back to kind memories like the Watra of Carpathia? Or turn away witches like the midnight bonfires of Sweden? The choice is yours. Wield the power of flame with this powerful sorcerer’s class.
Discovered Class Bonus Unlocked:
Fire Piercer: Ignore 25% of an enemy’s fire resistance.
And there we have it. A fire magic class.
Hmm. I kinda thought I’d be happier about it, but I’m really feeling partial to the rogue classes I’ve discovered.
Luci taps her polished fingernails against the glass bottle. “So…?”
“Throw it. There are a few still flapping around in there.”
She breaks into a smile. “Awesome.”
Another flaming bottle crashes into the pile of dying embers. The road erupts in fire. There’s a shriek as a threadbare wing reaches up from the ash and collapses.
“Aw, there was only one,” Luci says.
“Next time, my little pyromaniac.”
She laughs. “Look who’s talking!”
On the curb, Elias tears the bat from his shoulder and smashes it into the ground with the butt of his axe. Then, smothering a few rogue sparks singeing his jeans, he stands and hobbles over.
He’s a little worse for wear. His flannel shirt hangs in shreds, marred by talons and teeth. Splotches of blood - some his, some theirs - stain his clothes and face. Even his glasses have a few flecks of black on them.
More than anything, he looks tired. His shoulders hunch as he drags his fire axe against the ground. He looks over his niece, his eyes rife with worry.
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“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, chispita. Are you alright?”
Her cheeks redden. “I’m good, Tío. I’m a Level 4 now.” She pulls out a bandage to dress Elias’ new wound.
“That’s great, Luci.” He looks like he’s about to say something else when his attention strays to the road behind us. “Helen?”
I turn. Ron is tangled in a violent dance between three monsters, swinging and swatting his guitar in wild spins and leaps. He’s managing to keep two of them at bay. The other is hooked on his arm and gnawing on his triceps like they’re dinner.
“Shit. Uh…” I remember that Elias can’t come any closer, unless he wants to aggro the vines again. “Luci, stay here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she answers with a salute. Her uncle flinches as she whips out her gun.
Pocketing the lighter, I take off down the street.
Again, I marvel at Ron’s ability to stand strong. He may not be the smartest apple in the bunch, but the giant doesn’t quit. He’s more than six feet of pure power and will. He’s whirling around with a monster clomped onto him, and I don’t think he’s even noticed. Meanwhile, most of my fights end with me flat on my back, screaming. And not in a good way.
I close in on the battle, but I can’t figure a way in. While my dexterity is good enough to slash a monster off his back, there’s not a heck of a lot I can do when he’s revolving like a carousel.
Finally, Ron manages to clobber one of the bats with a flailing kick. The other he bashes with a headbutt before pummeling it with three overhead whacks, crushing the monster into a fishy pulp.
“Right arm,” I say.
“Oh, dang!”
With a meaty hand, he pries the piranha free. A strip of his own skin comes with it. Ron whips the monster into the ground and stomps on its head.
“Choo choo! Level 4 train, baby! And a class!”
“You add three to your fortitude?”
“Yes?” His eyes dart across an unseen menu. “Yes.”
Grabbing a bandage from my pack, I patch him up, then nod toward the intersection. “Another coming. You got this?”
“I do, I do,” he says with a mad grin. He hefts the guitar by the neck. The stickers blanketing the sides are spattered with blood.
I give a thumbs up and race back over to Luci and Elias.
“Okay, what’s the status? What level are you?”
“Level 3,” answers Elias. “We have thirty-five minutes remaining.”
“Thirty-five,” I repeat as I try to do the math. “So we need three more for Ron, two… five for you…”
“We’re cutting it close,” he interrupts. “We should go with what we have.”
“You sure? We’re doing pretty good. A few more minutes and we can at least get Luci to 5.”
“I am. I’ve considered our options, and we-”
A pair of monsters emerge from the alley. Discussion is a luxury we don’t have, and my opinion on this isn’t precious enough to argue. When in doubt, agree with the person who’s most stubborn.
“Okay, let’s do it,” I say. “Back exit. Take ‘em down, Luce. I’ll grab Ron.”
Gunfire echos behind me as I dash back down the road. I pull Ron from the action, scooping up the final two molotovs as he grabs the amp, the guitar cable wrapped in his fist.
Ready to go, we bolt around the corner toward the rear of the building. We can’t brave the West Tower again without losing Elias to the vines, and so far as we know, there’s no plant in the East Tower. So we gun for that one, our fingers crossed. With just a little over half an hour left on the clock, we spill into the back stairwell and head upstairs to the final battle.
Here’s how we stand. Elias is at a Level 3. Not great but certainly better than before. Apparently he added exactly one point to fortitude and the rest to strength.
Luci is just five points shy of Level 5 with stellar dexterity. Unfortunately, she only has four bullets left. Since we don’t know how dexterity affects damage - if at all-, it’s hard to say how effective her skills will be against the matriarch.
Ron is Level 4, his fortitude at a soaring 12. We decide he should allocate the last of his points to the resolve stat since that seems to affect health regeneration, and Luci likely won’t be able to focus on healing. He also discovered a bard class and a title for being the only person in the zone to use a stringed instrument as a bludgeon.
And here’s me:
Helen Gables
Lv 5
Health: 20/24
Stamina: 38/38
Strength: 4
Fortitude: 6 (+1 armor)
Dexterity: 14
Wits: 7
Resolve: 6
Charm: 5
Available Attribute Points: 0
Wallet: 550g
No “fatigue” status condition, so the caffeine did the trick, at least for now. In addition to upping my dexterity, I also add three points to fortitude. Maybe not the smartest move, but I’ll admit: I’m scared. Any time a flying piranha got to me, it only took a few seconds for it to carve straight through my skin and muscle, right down to the bone. It’s freaky as hell. One minute you’re soaring through the air like a ninja, the next you’re on the ground, blood pooling out of you like a backed up drain, and there’s a rabid monster going in for the kill, its teeth painted red with your own innards.
It doesn’t matter how fast I’ve become. Those are not images that instill confidence.
And yes, I know the matriarch is likely several times stronger. A fortitude of 6 isn’t going to stop that giant maw from snapping me clean in two. Still, maybe it’ll make the little guys snag on some tissue before they dig too deep. Whatever the case, upping my durability eases my anxiety just the teeniest bit. Enough to keep me from feeling like I’m going to faint. For the most part.
I also nabbed a few titles, along with more vouchers, whatever they are. More importantly, I have two new class bonuses, bringing me to a total of five. Under the “Class Bonuses,” it lists:
* Rebel This!: Do 10% more physical damage against higher level enemies.
* Disappearing Act: For five seconds, move 50% faster following a stealth-kill.
* Saving Hit: Do 20% more damage on the first hit to an enemy targeting another party member.
* ¡A Degüello!: Perform two attacks in quick succession with any slashing weapon.
* Fire Piercer: Ignore 25% of an enemy's fire resistance.
Not like it matters right now, but I’m curious as to why the classes are so history-based. At first I thought it was kind of touching, but the more I think about it, the more tasteless it seems. They just shattered our entire world, and now they want to give a history lesson? It’s like a caricature of our past or some half-hearted montage of humanity’s latest hits. A mocking swan song before we die.
We climb to the tenth floor in silence. The lights of Elias’ and Luci’s cell phones carve a path through the darkness, our feet thudding in step as our hearts race. Ron pipes up a couple of times. I don’t really hear the words. I’m occupied by thoughts that burst like fireworks, exploding one after another before slipping from my mind in dissipating sparks.
I try to make them stop, but they’ve been building for a while. And of course, when I need to control my mind the most, the walls begin to crumble.
My thoughts mostly sift into one repeating phrase: I shouldn’t be doing this.
Our power level session went so much better than I could have imagined. We’re stronger. We’re whole. I even had a little fun. I think everyone did. Except maybe Elias. Yet that felt surmountable, even before we got started. It felt possible.
Let’s be honest though. The fight against the matriarch isn’t. Not for all of us, anyhow. At least one of us will get hurt. At least one of us might die. I’m nervous about my own life, of course. Oh, you silly old survival instinct, you. That’s enough to make anyone freak. But I also have a full party of people counting on me which is… not what I would prefer. I just wanted some goddamn ice cream. This? This is too much.
In fact, this is exactly why I didn’t want to join up with Luci. I can’t handle the weight of it. For once this morning, I wasn’t feeling anxious, and now the anxiety of expectations keeps bubbling up inside me. As we climb the stairs, my mind rattles. I want to stop. I want to curl up in a ball and admit defeat. Instead, I force one foot in front of the other, and I climb.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
If something happens to one of them…
No, no I won’t do this. Not again. They don’t matter. None of this matters.
Just push out the thoughts.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Focus on the fight. The matriarch. The weapon in my hand.
I’m just a crazy lady with a “Nice Snatch” shirt and a machete I stole from an old woman’s apartment. There are no expectations. I can do this.