“Quiet in the cell block!” Deputy Cruz shouted over the loudspeaker.
Paul sat on his bunk looking out into the common area at the chaos he had helped to create. He knew what would happen next, the Special Operations Response Team (SORT) team would finish gearing up and charge in to quell the chaos. Most of the prisoners were just caught up in the moment, happy to let loose some steam or settle a few debts with their enemies.
More than a few were prisoners that Paul had personally helped to find the tools they needed to enact their revenge. He wasn’t going to participate in the festivities directly, content to wait on the bunk in his cell like a good prisoner. Paul had his probation hearing the next week and couldn’t risk jeopardizing the freedom he was so close to achieving.
“Yo, RPG you going to join in the beatdown and get a piece of those guards?” The prisoner known as Lojack asked him.
Lojack had received his nickname from his uncanny ability to be found by the cops whenever he stole a car. The car thief had been busted three times for grand theft auto and this latest conviction had left him with twenty years of time to do. Paul smiled at his own nickname of RPG.
It was a name that the press and not his fellow prisoners had bestowed upon him. Just over ten years had passed since he had been convicted of the killing of several of his classmates. The prosecution had keyed in on the fact he used percentile dice and a list of students he disliked to determine who his next victim would be. His public defender had tried to assert he was delusional and mentally incompetent due to his fixation on role-playing games.
During his trial, the press had dubbed Paul Westman the RPG slayer. Until an airplane crash had taken his place in the headlines, Paul and his killings had been pure gold to the press. Each day another publication would print a headline with some “new” and always lurid detail of his murder methods.
Paul knew something they all didn’t, something the press didn’t even consider. He knew that the games were real and that by doing what he was doing, Paul was growing in power. Paul felt vindicated on the day of the Upgrade, all the “madness” that they tried to apply to him was merely forward-thinking and a logical prediction of the world to come.
Paul never denied killing his fellow students, he was intelligent enough to realize that each successful kill had led the detectives closer and closer to finding him. The evidence against him was rock solid, the police caught him red-handed in the basement of his parents’ house just as Paul had finished with his last victim—the last victim as far as the police knew.
He was easily convicted but had a reduced sentence for being under the age of eighteen. The prosecution had pushed to have him tried as an adult, but his defense attorney was able to cut a deal on his sentence, refusing to give up their attempts at the insanity plea in order for Paul to do less time.
He had spent his jail time in peace, pushing back the need to kill for the most part. There were a few deaths listed as suicides as well as a few prison stabbings that Paul may or may not have had a hand in facilitating. He was a smart killer now, careful and deliberative in his methods. Paul had used his time behind bars to be productive, learning the skills, and gaining the education needed to further his goals.
He ended up gaining a degree in psychology and criminal justice while honing his knife skills by working in the prison kitchens. The warden touted Paul as a model prisoner, well on his way to rehabilitation. Years passed quickly enough, Paul having little to do with his fellow inmates unless the opportunity arose to use one to satiate his urge to kill. That all changed on the day of the Upgrade.
That glorious morning, Paul had fallen to the ground with the rest of the prison, trying to escape the intense pain of the nanobots infusing his being. His skill in gaming led Paul to realize what was happening quicker than most, crafting his character to maximize reaching his goals. The Upgrade recognized his greatness, granting him a dual-class affinity to mask his true intentions.
He had leveled carefully, learning and practicing the skills needed to ascend higher and higher. Paul watched at waited, learning how those around him built their characters. Prisoners were funny that way, very guarded at most times, but once their trust was gained, they would spill everything. Paul learned that the prisoners around him were an equal mix of criminal classes or normal classes based on their occupations before incarceration.
“You zoned out again man? Get a shiv and join in bro!” Lojack told him before running off toward the door to their block.
Paul stayed where he was. Using strips torn from a washcloth, Paul crafted makeshift earplugs before moistening the rest of the cloth and wrapping it over his nose and mouth. The wet cloth wouldn’t stop all the tear gas that was assuredly coming in when the SORT team breached the block, but it might help to mitigate the pain.
True to his predictions, the doors of the block blasted open and Paul caught a glimpse of several black cylinders flying into the common area. There was just enough time for Paul to cover his ears and close his eyes before the flashbang grenades began to go off. Despite his precautions, the noise and light left him stunned for a few seconds. When his head stopped ringing, Paul could hear a tremendous melee happening in the common area below. Taking a calculated risk, he peered over the walkway and viewed the chaos below.
The block was constructed in a two-story manner with cells packed tightly together. The common area in the center had tables bolted to the floor and was used to serve meals and give lectures. The entire common area was covered in cowering prisoners who pretended to surrender as a flood of guards poured in.
It was at this time that Paul’s plan went into effect. He had studied the way the SORT teams worked and suggested to the “boss” of the block, a gang lord named Flaco, a way he could defeat their tactics. Flaco had taken some convincing, with Paul manipulating him over several weeks before the man finally adopted the plan as his own.
As the guards converged and began zip-tying prisoners, a fresh wave of convicts charged out of the second-floor cells and poured down the stairs to engage their natural enemies. The prisoners were armed with an odd assortment of handmade shanks, mostly sharpened bits of metal with a crude handle attached. These prisoners had taken the same precautions that Paul had and were hardly affected by the flashbangs. Three dozen prisoners converged on the guards as their fellows on the ground who hadn’t been cuffed yet joined in.
A prison shank can be a deadly weapon as Paul could attest to, having used such crude methods over his years of incarceration to kill three of his fellow inmates, always with the guard's none the wiser. Unfortunately for the prisoners, armored guards, even if outnumbered, are more than a match for a disorganized mob. Flaco and several other inmates singled out the most hated guard—Officer Anderson—burying him in a mass of stabbing bodies. Paul pulled back from the carnage, sitting on his bed with his hands on his knees, waiting for the inevitable.
Quest Complete: A little chaos. Your careful orchestrations have resulted in a prison riot.
Reward: 1000 experience.
Congratulations: You have reached level 12 in the Slayer class. Open your character sheet to allocate 1 new stat point and 2 new skill points.
The highly anticipated XP was now rolling in for Paul. He had needed to hit level twelve in order to raise his Obfuscation score higher than the Discern Intent skill that was used by the parole board. He had met with the board before and had a ballpark on their skill levels, but since it had been over a month since his preliminary review, he needed to make sure to cover any potential leveling on the part of the board. He was a cautious man since his conviction, covering every eventuality in his plans.
Officer Anderson had been killed.
Reward: 150 experience.
Prisoner Flaco has been killed.
Reward: 150 experience.
Prisoner Jacobs has been killed.
Reward: 150 experience.
Prisoner Lojack has been killed.
Reward: 150 experience.
Not bad, one officer and three prisoners dying in the melee had netted him an additional 600 experience. Paul had learned soon after the Upgrade that if his plans resulted in the death of another, even if it wasn’t by his hand, Paul would be granted experience. Thus, he had kept his hands clean and was above suspicion for today's events. While he waited for the chaos to be sorted out by the inevitably victorious guards, Paul opened his character sheet after placing a stat point in intelligence and a skill point to both Obfuscation and Scan Other, the two key pieces of his class.
Paul Westman
Current Visible Class: Cook Level 5.
True Class: Slayer Level 12.
Strength: 12
Constitution: 13
Dexterity: 11
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 9
Skills/Abilities:
Obfuscation: 20. Conceal your identity as a slayer by obscuring your true information with a secondary class. In order to function properly, your secondary class must be one based on your actual qualifications.
Machination: 22. You work behind the scenes, manipulating people, and situations to ensure an easy kill. Kills made by others when under the effect of your Machination skill will award a portion of the experience to the Slayer.
Scan other: 18. Scan the character sheets of others to learn their strengths and weaknesses.
Stalk Prey: 15. The longer the Slayer spends observing his victim the better his chances of killing them. The bonus provided by Stalk Prey will vary based on the situation.
Sneak Attack: 8. Bonus to damage when an opponent is unaware you are attacking them.
Disengage: 11. The Slayer can remove themselves from a situation turned bad, gaining a bonus to stealth and movement speed when using this ability.
Weapon Skills:
Melee: 5.
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Piercing and bladed weapons: 10.
Firearms: 3.
Traps: 5.
Bludgeoning: 5.
He was a deadly opponent when given the time to plan and prepare, as today’s events demonstrated. In a straight-up fight, most of the prisoners would wipe the floor with him, the bulk of his fellow inmates having placed points in combat arts and maxing their strength and constitution stats. He had more fighting skills than the average person, but his class focussed on planning and manipulation over brute savagery. Paul’s character review was cut short as the guards entered his cell, looked about, and then left after seeing the model prisoner doing what he was supposed to do.
“Westman, we’re locking down the block so stay back from the door,” one of the guards said as he slammed and locked Paul’s cell door.
“Yes sir, is everyone okay?” Paul asked, feigning concern.
The guard didn’t reply and continued down the block to the next cell. At least the cell block would finally be quiet tonight as a good third of the prisoners were now in the infirmary or dead. That was one of the things that bothered him most about prison, the constant noise. Day or night, the cellblock was always awash with noise as the prisoners tried to outdo each other with their insults and bravado.
With practiced skill, Paul kept a straight face as the moans of the injured and wounded wafted around the cellblock. The sounds were music to his ears and a small trickle of experience was gained from causing misery to others. Since he hadn’t inflicted the pain directly, his portion of the XP was only a few points per victim, but every point counted in this wonderful new world he found himself in.
The next few days saw little activity for Paul as he waited for his parole hearing. The guards were especially vigilant after the violence of the riots, Paul overhearing that the deaths had garnered media attention briefly before the world moved on to the next Upgrade created tragedy.
When the day of the parole hearing finally arrived; Paul was dressed in a cheap suit that his public defender had bought for him from Goodwill and he was hustled to the transport van from his cell. Paul was silent the trip over, riding chained to the floor of the prison van with other prisoners going for their hearings. He amused himself by planning several ways to escape the van, deciding his best chance would be to overpower the guard as he unhooked him from the floor. Being a ‘model prisoner’ had made the guards more lax than normal around him.
Paul kept an impassive look on his face as he was unhooked from the van and led into the courthouse. He was tempted to act on the plan to escape but rational thinking overrode the temptation—his best chance of freedom was delivering a good performance in court today. The guard led him in and chained him to a chair next to his defense attorney. His attorney was borderline competent, but as a public defender, she had a caseload that didn’t allow her to spend too much time on each defendant.
“Paul, are you ok with giving a statement today? The panel will want to hear in your own words that you’ve changed and want to be a productive member of society. I didn’t see any family members of your alleged victims, so the board won’t be moved by their sob stories,” his public defender stopped talking as the parole board entered. Paul and his attorney both stood as the group entered, showing respect to the board.
“All right let’s get this hearing started, we have a full docket today and the Upgrade isn’t making things any easier on us. We’re doing a final review on one Paul Westman, convicted of multiple counts of murder and sentenced to twenty-five years. This is the second hearing for the prisoner, the first being denied five years ago. Counselor, you may present your arguments,” the head of the parole panel announced.
“Thank you, honored members, of the board. My client has been a model prisoner for his entire incarceration. I present these letters of recommendation from several of the guards and staff at the prison, stating his behavior has been exemplary even in the face of the recent deadly riots in his cell block.
“He has developed cooking skills while volunteering in the prison kitchen and has earned the Cook class with which he can earn a living once released. He has admitted his wrongs and displays genuine remorse for the hurt and pain he has caused. Paul Westman is not a danger to society and keeping him incarcerated is only adding him as the final victim in the horrible tragedy he caused in his mentally challenged state so many years ago,” his defense counsel argued.
“Thank you, counselor, we know his record while incarcerated, what we have to determine is if Mr. Westman will be a danger once released from custody. With your consent counselor, we would like to have the defendant stand and be examined by the panel.
“The Upgrade has caused much horror and destruction, but it has also allowed some of us the power to set things right. Each member of the board has an ability that lets them see the prisoner’s class and status sheet. Should he prove to be what he claims, we have no problem with letting him free to become a productive member of society. Should he turn out to be harboring deadly skills or a criminal class, we will remand him back into custody,” the parole board chairman stated.
“I would have to object, the Upgrade skills are not admissible yet in court, the Supreme Court will hear on this soon, but until then, I have to assert that requiring my client to submit to some unverified ,Upgrade style scan is a violation of his rights!” Paul’s defense attorney began.
“Wait, I’m sorry for speaking out of line, but I have no problem allowing the board to scan me. My only class is as a Cook and I have worked hard to rid myself of all vestiges of my crimes. The Upgrade seems to agree, as I do not have any type of criminal class or skills,” Paul asserted.
“This is irregular, but if you wish to consent to their examination, I can’t stop you,” his attorney replied.
“Thank you, please begin,” Paul told the board as he scanned them surreptitiously before they could start.
Board member 1: Discern Intent rating 7.
Board member 2: Discern Intent rating 11.
Board member 3: Discern Intent rating 11.
Board member 4: Discern Intent rating 13.
Chairman: Discern Intent rating 19.
The board all looked at him with intensity, starting their scans of the prisoner. Just as he suspected, the regular board members who did this only part-time had lower scan ratings. A rating over ten would be good enough to read a simple criminal trying to hide their skills, but Paul was much more than a simple criminal.
He knew that the chairman was the real problem. With Paul’s last level gain, and his Obfuscation rating hitting 20, he had placed himself slightly ahead of the chairman’s ability to discover his true class. The only concern was that he had never had time to test his theories, only assuming he had an advantage and fearful that other factors may enable the chairman to see his true nature. The board all sat stone-faced before conferring quietly among themselves. After a few moments, they turned back to Paul.
“It is the unanimous decision of this board that Paul Westman be released to serve the remainder of his sentence on parole. He will report to his appointed parole officer and any deviation from his check-in schedule or any new crimes committed will see this parole revoked,” the chairman said as Paul and his defense attorney both breathed a sigh of relief.
You have concealed your true class, 100 experience gained.
It was a painful wait for Paul over the next two weeks as his parole paperwork was processed. After getting out, he landed a job with a catering company as a sous chef after he impressed the head chef with his knife skills. The company was a little on the shady side, paying lower than minimum wages as they hired societal outcasts like Paul.
He shared a room with another recent parolee in a rural suburb of Washington DC, barely keeping his head above water with his low paying job. He lived a simple life at first, working seven days a week as he began to plan his future. He was essentially working poor, so finding more money to support his goals was a priority. His roommate was working as a custodian for a nearby warehouse building, their hours keeping them from seeing each other much, which was to Paul’s liking.
The simple internet access and basic cable plan the state gave to the working poor enabled Paul to do more thorough research on the Upgrade and how skills and levels were gained. He read boards, guides, and leveling strategies until he had a firm grasp on how things worked. His prior gaming knowledge allowed him to min/max his character efficiently.
Paul’s high intellect enabled him to retain information and formulate plans better than at any other point in his life. If only he knew then what he knew now, the police would have never caught him. The only problem was that his urge to kill was growing…and Paul didn’t know how long he could contain it.
“You idiots are too slow! I’m going to poison you all if you don’t pick up the pace!” His manager Helga shouted.
The harridan was the thorn in not only his but the whole staff’s side. She was constantly threatening and bullying them instead of leading them. Paul kept his head down and continued to chiffonade the fresh herbs needed for tomorrow’s catering event.
Herb-crusted salmon was a specialty of the company he worked for and Paul took a small measure of pride in doing a good job of cooking despite it being only a cover profession. He had to focus on his work, looking at Helga was almost too much for him. When he saw his hated manager, targeting reticles appeared where his knife would critically strike her. He clamped down on his murderous rage as a plan began to form.
“Would you really poison us, Helga, surely you’re just kidding, right?” Paul asked the raging woman.
“Don’t you think I’m kidding; I’ll murder the whole lot of you if you don’t hurry up!” Helga retorted. Nobody in the kitchen thought she was serious, but Paul wanted her threat to be remembered by his co-workers.
Helga’s statement sent Paul on a whirlwind of research and activity, eventually leading to a suspiciously bulging can of creamy dill sauce used to flavor their herb-crusted salmon dish. The perfect time to unleash his newest plan appeared a week later at a catering event for some rich kid’s high school graduation.
Using his Machination skill, Paul maneuvered to have the targeted can of sauce next to Helga when the group was trying to finish the last few prep items before the event. Paul worked purposely slow, drawing Helga’s ire and leaving her an angry whirlwind in the prep kitchen.
“What is wrong with you all, useless the entire lot of you. Paul, you forgot the finish the salmon with the creamy dill sauce correctly, you only have the dried seasonings on it, you idiot!” Helga yelled before grabbing the bulging can dramatically off the table and proceeding to pour in the thick sauce.
“There, was that so hard to do you moron. You convicts and losers are lucky to even have a job. If it were up to me, I’d see you all off to the chair,” Helga grumbled to the rest of the team.
After barely finishing the menu on time, Helga gathered the crew around for the tasting. Tasting the food to be served that night was a long-held tradition in many kitchens, allowing the staff some insight into the results of their efforts. Tonight’s results would be much different from the norm. Paul took this opportunity to ratchet up the tension. He was in charge of passing out the samples, giving a specifically marked plate to Helga.
“Helga, we’re running behind, so why are we wasting time tasting food we have tasted a thousand times before,” Paul whined.
“You will do as you’re told, taste the food, Paul!” Helga yelled.
Paul tried to look cowed and he grabbed a forkful of the salmon. Despite his “special ingredient” the food tasted normal and would pass as their usual dish. They loaded up the catering truck and most of the staff left to serve at the event. Paul wasn’t needed to serve so he and the remaining prep team finished cleaning up and closed the kitchen for the night. Before leaving, he made sure to place the contaminated can of sauce inside a drawer in Helga’s desk.
As soon as he got home, he tried to vomit up everything he had eaten that day, drinking several glasses of water to continue purging his stomach. The research he had done told him that the illness from botulism, which was now coursing through his system from the contaminated salmon, could be reduced by emptying his stomach of the contaminated food. He needed to be sick to provide cover for himself but didn’t want to risk his own life in the ruse.
The coming illness was horrifying, Paul waiting a few hours before seeking help at the emergency room. He told the doctor that he had been sick with food poisoning before and this felt like his old illness, only worse. After mentioning he worked in the catering business the doctor ran tests to confirm he had botulism and began the suggested treatment.
An unknown amount of time passed as Paul lay sick in the hospital, eventually feeling well enough to review the Upgrade prompts that had been flashing in front of him during his illness.
Your machinations have seriously sickened thirty-five victims, 1000 XP awarded.
Your machinations have killed three victims, 3000 XP awarded.
Congratulations you have reached Level 13 in the Slayer class. You have 1 ability point and two skill points to spend.
Paul placed his ability point into constitution to help him recover from the illness, realizing how important a strong constitution would be for survival in this dangerous new world. His skill points were spent on Piercing and Bladed Weapons as well as one point into Scan Others. He needed to protect himself from dangerous targets, knowing what skills that others possessed would help him to pick appropriate victims.
His second part of the plan came together when the police arrived at his hospital room the next day. They asked him about Helga and if he remembered her threatening the others in the kitchen with poisoning on several occasions. Paul gladly recounted his interactions, asking if everyone else was okay.
The police told him one of the sous chefs and two guests had died from the food poisoning and that evidence pointed to Helga following through with her threat to poison everyone. She was the only one not sick, the officer assuming she knew what not to eat to protect herself. They also found the contaminated can in her desk drawer, making it clear to the investigators who were responsible for the poisoning.
You have pinned your crime on an innocent victim, 500 XP awarded.
Paul was reveling in his newfound power, confirming that his true destiny was to slay others, using their deaths to enable him to ascend to godlike power. All the world was his XP farm and he would do whatever it took to attain his goal.
***
The case of Paul Westman was a strange one to research. I can tell you that being inside the head of a serial killer is a bizarre experience and not what I expected. The man had no remorse and was laser-focused on his goal. There were others like the RPG killer that sought murder and mayhem as a path to power, but Paul’s story intrigued me since it was linked to another we will read about later.
An evil kind of logic is needed to see killing people as simply a means to an end. The Upgrade lured Paul Westman and many others with the siren’s call of power at the expense of their humanity. It’s sad to think of all those that fell prey to their base desires for power…