Tom and Kate leaped to their feet and rushed over to Chloe. She was sitting, upright and alert, in her nest of blankets.
“What! What's wrong?” Tom said. His eyes darted around the room in search of more monsters.
Chloe, pale-faced and blinking rapidly, stammered an apology.
“What happened? You scared everyone!” Tom said in a harsh whisper.
“I know, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. Something happened, and it scared me—”
“Are we in danger?”
“No, no!” Chloe shook her head. “I was sitting here thinking about earlier, at our house when that big one almost got you. I remember feeling scared for you and feeling like—” Chloe’s hands circled in the air, searching for the right words. “I felt like I threw something at it . . . but from my brain.”
Chloe looked around at everyone, then gave a small shrug.
“What do you mean?” Tom asked. “Actually, no, we'll come back to that in a minute. What scared you and made you yell?”
“I was picturing that moment of the 'brain throw' and wondering what was happening to me when . . . ” Chloe's expression changed. Her mouth hung open and her pupils dilated.
Tom waved in front of Chloe's face; she gave no indication that she could see his hand. It was like watching someone interact with VR head gear. He tapped Chloe gently on the shoulder.
“Chloe, you're scaring me. What the hell are you doing?”
Chloe shook her head. “I’m sorry. Something is happening. A bunch of stuff pops up in my vision, covering everything. It's stuff about me, or I think it is.”
The messages! She has them too!
“I'm going to see if I can do it again. If I can, I’ll tell you what it says.”
Chloe took a few deep breaths, then opened her eyes and gazed around the room.
Tom was about to say something, when Chloe cleared her throat.
“Okay, the words are back. I’m going to read out loud what this says.” Chloe's fingers trembled as she raised her left hand, pointing into the air. Her index finger moved as if reading from an invisible piece of paper. Everyone leaned in as Chloe began to read, her voice barely above a whisper.
“[Chloe Damascus]
Age 16
Level 1 Psychic Tormentor.
Short description available now; - you will learn more about your class as you progress.
You have selected the class Psychic: specialization Tormentor. The Psychic Tormentor is a fearsome class that wields the very essence of terror as a weapon. Masters of dominating and manipulating fear, they channel the darkest nightmares of their foes, and unleash them with—”
Loo and Finn both gasped. “Whoa!”
“Shhh!” the group hissed, Tom’s eyes darting nervously to the basement’s external door.
The last thing we need is for those things to find us.
Tom and Bo both shot warning glances at Loo and Finn, before turning back to Chloe.
Giving her younger sister a dirty look, Chloe closed her eyes once more, her eyebrows drawing together. This time, it took her just a few seconds to access whatever it was she was reading. She raised her finger back into the air and continued:
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“[ . . . they channel the darkest nightmares of their foes, and unleash them with malevolent precision. This class thrives on the psychological torment of their adversaries. The Psychic Tormentor is not for the faint of heart; it requires a hardened resolve to channel and manipulate the depths of fear.]”
Chloe blew out her cheeks then released a long breath. “That's it for that section. I don't know what it means by ‘I have selected this class’. I didn't select anything. Below that section, it says [1 Gold to upgrade: you cannot do that here]. Now over here,” Chloe's gaze drifted up and to the right, as though she were reading from a different section of invisible text.
“This says [Psychic Abilities], then below it says:
[Migraine I]
On-use ability.
Afflict your target with a powerful migraine. Unless resisted, the target will suffer ten pulses of damage. You may apply this ability to as many targets as possible.
Ability Power: XS.01 (Extra Small - Power Rank 1 of 100).
Mana Usage: S.01 (Small - Mana Drain Rank 1 of 100).
10 Copper to upgrade: you cannot do that here.”
Chloe cleared her throat again. She pointed to a new spot in the room and continued.
“Below that, I have another heading that says [Tormentor Abilities]. I have:
[Fear I]
On-use ability.
Project a nightmarish mental image into a chosen target. This sinister mental invasion is tailor-made to exploit the deepest fears of the victim, rendering them overcome with unrelenting terror. The effect loses power the longer—or more often—the creature is feared, eventually causing the spell to break. You may fear up to one foe at a time.
Ability Power: XS.01 (Extra Small - Power Rank 1 of 100).
Mana Usage: S.01 (Small - Mana Drain Rank 1 of 100).
10 Copper to upgrade: you cannot do that here.
That's it for abilities. Over here, it says [Profession], but it’s all grayed out. This section here says [Stats], but it’s also grayed out.”
Chloe's eyes snapped back into focus. The dim candles in the room cast dancing shadows as everyone huddled together.
“That's it. That's all I can see,” Chloe said.
Tom took a deep breath, trying to process their insanely impossible situation. He glanced around at his family and friends; his own confusion and worry were mirrored back at him. Steeling himself, he forced a reassuring smile.
“Okay,” Tom began, his voice wavering only slightly. “I’m going to continue on as if all of this isn't completely insane. I guess, somehow, you cast a fear spell earlier on the monster. Do you know how you did it?”
Chloe chewed her lip. “No. I don’t really know the ‘how’ of how I did it, but I feel like I could do it again if I wanted to. Sort of like if you asked me to raise my arm up. I don’t know ‘how’ I'm telling my arm to do it, but I know I can raise my arm if I wanted to.”
Chloe winced and looked at Hana, who was cradling her injured arm gently against her chest.
Despite what she must have been feeling, Hana managed a weak smile. “You're fine, honey,” she said, holding up her remaining hand.
“Bad analogy, sorry Hana! But, yeah, it's just there ready to be used I guess.”
“All right.” Tom nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. His mind raced as he considered their next steps.
“Everyone be quiet for a few minutes,” said Hana, “and see if you can do what Chloe did with . . . reading floating words?”
For the first few minutes, nothing happened.
Then Tess gasped.
Tom and the other adults all turned to look at Tess, as she too had an unfocused faraway look. Her lips moved as if she was reading something.
One by one, the other three kids seemed to have accessed the floating descriptions. Loo had a contemplative look on her face; Finn was nodding, his face serious; and Amber was all smiles.
Tom closed his eyes.
What is happening to me?
Nothing.
He tried again, with thoughts revolving around ‘what am I doing?’, and ‘what is going on with me?’, and several other variations of ‘me’ questions..
Nothing happened.
Other thoughts kept interfering. Was this some type of mass hysteria they were all in? Was he perhaps in a coma and dreaming this? A government experiment?
His mind was an unfocused jumble, and he grew more and more aggravated.
“It's not working! I don’t see anything!”
Loo put her hand in his. “Don’t get upset, Dad. It’s pretty easy. You have to, in all seriousness, mentally request the information to yourself. Just like in school. ‘Teacher, could I please get information about x y z?’ Calm down, and don’t overthink it. You got this, Dad.”
There was a short mental struggle that revolved around his twelve-year-old daughter telling him to calm down. However, he managed to set that aside and focused on trying to access the magical words.
For a few heartbeats, there was nothing: just the darkness behind his closed eyelids.
A moment later, after concentrating on how he would love some kind of DAMN information, something shifted. A faint outline appeared in his mind's eye, barely visible. As he held onto his focus, the image became clearer and sharper, until it formed into a floating panel of text.
“Got it!” Tom said triumphantly, earning himself a bunch of shushes. He read the opening lines.
“What the fuck is a Sponge?”
More shushes.
“Mine says Hag! Like an old lady!” Hana hissed.
Tom let his focus fall away, and his vision cleared.
Hana took a deep breath. “Did everyone figure out how to do it?”
Nods of agreement went around the room.
There was a loud crash upstairs.
Tom's heart raced as he looked back and forth between the steps and his frightened family.
Bo made an exaggerated shushing motion with his finger, then directed everyone to the far end of the basement—away from the steps leading upstairs.
As they crouched in the darkness, the sounds of heavy footsteps and crashing furniture grew louder and more frequent. The pig-like squeal of a Headless echoed through the house, sending chills down Tom's spine. The cold basement air clung to his skin like a second layer, but his attention remained locked on the flimsy wooden door leading upstairs.
We should have braced it!
It was only barrier between them and the monsters wreaking havoc above. He could hear the creatures’ labored breathing as they shuffled around, their wide, flat feet slapping against the wooden floorboards. It sounded like they were furious about not finding anyone.
As the families hid in the shadows, Tom clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white.
Loo had her eyes closed, her small hands gripping Chloe and her Mom's arms tightly. Amber looked . . . sigh. Amber looked excited.
As the minutes dragged on, the noises upstairs intensified. The group huddled silently together, eyes glued on the door to upstairs, hoping the creatures weren’t smart enough to find the door.
A sudden silence fell over the house.
The absence of noise was more terrifying than the chaos itself.
Tom waited, holding his breath.
The silent moments dragged. The family members looked back and forth between each other and the door.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
A creature beat loudly on the basement door.
Everyone jumped. Some of the children screamed.
The creature at the top of the steps let out a triumphant squeal, which was echoed by other creatures. Their feet slapped against the upper floor as they ran toward the basement door.
They had been found.