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Tales of Vaella
2 - Everything Wants To Kill Me

2 - Everything Wants To Kill Me

I stumble my way through the forest.

The evening light cascades in between trees that rustle softly, the cool breeze whistling as it travels between the thin canopy of leaves above. Twigs and branches crunch underneath my boots, each step is accented with a crack as the dry brush gives way. I hear the trickle of water out in the distance, a babbling brook that whispers to me of my thirst.

It is nearing the end of my first day in the game, and I have no idea what to do. Survive, a voice says softly in my head. I don't know if it is my thoughts or a hint from the game, but it's the only thing I can do right now. Try to live as long as I can and find out what the hell is going on.

I reach a small hill and begin to climb it. The sound of water has gotten louder, and I know I am closer to one more thing I need to live. This may be a game, but it feels too real, and I know that if I do not eat and drink I will die.

If you die in the game, you die in real life. Till's words repeat in my head, they bounce off the sides like my skull is a hollow cave.

Was it true? It couldn't be, could it? Sara said there were Alpha testers who played before, and they were still alive when they came out of the game. But what if the rules of the game have changed? There's a large step between Beta and Alpha, what if the developers added a little incentive to keep playing the game?

Or worse, what if a rogue developer decided to twist the game for some fucked up fun?

At the top of the hill, I find the source of water. A stream breaks itself on rocks as it trickles down the other side, the water is so clear I can see the pebbles and stones at the bottom. It glistens in the red and golden light of the sunset. I dip my hand in and the crisp cold of the stream refreshes me when it splashes across my face. The frigid liquid burns as it washes over my cracked lips and down a throat that feels like a tunnel of sand.

I wonder where Sara is. She couldn't have gotten too far. It should only have been a day or two since she walked this same forest.

Or did she spawn somewhere else? Should I have not spawned closer to a town or city? And why have I not seen any other players yet? Everything feels off. This game just doesn't feel normal, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm royally fucked.

"Sara, what have you gotten us into?" I speak into the forest, but there are no ears around to hear. There are not even birds that chirp in the trees, just the sound of the brook and the gulp of water as it fills my leather skin.

With a deep sigh, I cap my water skin and continue to walk down the hill, following alongside the stream as it throws itself on a fall of rocks. The sun is breaking itself on the horizon, the long shadows of the later evening are forming, and I know that I should find a spot to set up camp.

At the bottom of the hill and there's a small grove, the water flows around its right edge, out into where the trees grow thick. The grass is tall along the edges, and in the cleared middle lies a great fallen log. The log is at least twice the size of any tree around. It is covered with mushrooms, a mixture of spotted reds, and mystical bright blues that seemingly glow against the dullness of the bark. Thick lines of moss run through the grooves, and spirals of vine hang down from branches now withered and snapped.

I figure this is the best place as any to set up camp and begin to collect kindling to make a fire.

. . .

The flint strikes crooked across rough steel, creating a weak amount of sparks that disappear before they land in the dry grass. I continue to hit the steel, my hands shaking, twisting the chunk in my hand so I can find the sweet spot. With one final strike, a shower of sparks sprays over the grass and a small plume of smoke begins to rise. I gently blow on the center of the spouting flame until it grows and spreads to the sticks above.

There's a series of text that floats in the corner of my vision, and I realize that I'm looking at the world through my player HUD.

+50 Camping Experience

+10 Survival Experience

+3 Character Experience

I recoil back from the fire, for the last hour it slipped my mind that I am in a different world. Everything feels too real for it to be a game, I guess that's the benefit of it being a dream as well. But how do you program the feeling of dewdrops between your fingers, or the feeling of sunlight on your skin?

I look to the top right corner of my vision and see some menu tabs, but I have no idea how to access them. They are there, floating in my vision. Instinctively my hand reaches up to the head implant that is normally set into my temple, but the tips of my fingers meet smooth skin. In the real world, I might have something physical to interact with, but in the game, the HUD is just something in my mind.

With a sigh, I put my flint and steel into the light brown pouch on my belt. As it slips inside it disappears, and I can again see the shadowy bottom. I know that it's still there, unlike the menus in my vision I can enter my inventory with the flick of my hand. I press the access button floating above my belt and a screen pops up in my vision.

Player Inventory

  Flint & Steel  Bread (2)  Water Skin (Full)

Carrying Capacity: 4/20

Currency: 10 Coppers

There is not much of use in my pouch and it looks like I will have to go foraging for food tomorrow, two loaves of bread will not last me long. Hopefully, there is a town nearby where I can stock up on supplies, but I have no idea what I can get for 10 coppers. For all I know, I will not be able to afford half a slice of cheese.

I hear a distant sound that wasn't there before. A rustling in the dense bushes on the other side of the grove. My back straightens, and my hand brushes the hilt of my sword. The rough wood pommel scratches against my itchy, sweaty palm, and the feeling comforts me.

"Is there anyone there?" I ask the star-filled night. It makes me feel stupid, like a clueless guard who's about to meet his end.

A low growl hums across the grass in response. I look to my right and the screen follows my vision. Shit, I think as a four-legged silhouette appears from the blue-tinted treeline. The growling intensifies, it grows to a low rumble as the wolf trots closer towards me. I unsheath my sword and look down to my pouch, but it is too late to close the menu.

Growls twist and break into snarls as the beast lunges towards me. I swing my blade, but the moment for it to be of any use has passed, the wolf is too close. My hand meets fur and bounces off, the sword spinning in the sky when it slips from my grip. Saliva pulls between the beast's sharp fangs, ripping canines that make my body scream as they sink into my shoulder. The wolf thrashes its head back and forth, chipping away at my shields at an alarming rate. In just a few moments I watch the bar drop down to 104.

Stolen novel; please report.

I fall backward onto my ass, scarred and muddy paws pressing the air out of my chest. The white bar in my HUD disappears in red chunks, leaving behind only the darkness of the night behind it. The meter reads 90/124, then flashes quickly to 85, 73, 61.

I've got less than half my shields left, this fucking thing is tearing me apart. Am I really going to die on day one?

When my lifeline hits about 35%, the outline of my vision begins to flash red. The searing pain in my shoulder doubles as I feel the wolf's fangs pierce deeper into my skin, tearing away at more than just my shields now.

No, a voice inside me says. If you die in the game, that's it. You have to survive.

I pull my legs up underneath the wolf and plant my feet into the soft fur of its chest, but it is no good. My one leg is twisted, and I can't seem to push enough. It weighs too much for me, and I feel my bones ready to pop out of their sockets.

No, don't stop trying. You have to keep trying, not just for yourself. You need to find out if Sara is okay.

There's a burning sensation inside of me, but not of pain. It courses through my muscles, my eyes fill with a dark red tinge that turns the menu a reddish purple.

You can't die on your first day, I think, as the frustration boils over, spilling out of my body and into the world. My legs reposition under the wolf and I feel steady. With a powerful push, unburdened by the weight of the beast, I fling the wolf off my body.

My right arm instinctively pats the ground beside me for steel, but it fills only with cool grass and soft dirt. I reach further, pushing off with my other arm as it screams in pain. My shields are still up so I ignore it for the artificial feeling it is. If I don't get this weapon, that's it for me.

The wolf rises, shakes a small cloud of dirt from its coat, and stares directly at me with ravenous eyes. It knows it has me, I can feel its anticipation of a meal, food to replenish the energy used for the kill. It sits on hind legs and howls up to the night sky, up to the purple and red moons that loom above. I see the beast pounce from its spot, not even taking a running start before it is in the air. It flies through the darkness at me, a large mass of fur behind the text of my screen.

I see those ripping teeth as they fall towards me and pray. I pray with all my might to whatever the hell might be listening right now, what strange Gods may exist in this world. With one last sweep of my arm, I feel metal in my palm.

Thank you, now please give me strength.

My sword flashes in front of me, glowing steel that slashes between sharp fangs. The wolf clamps down on the blade, and I have to brace it with my other hand to keep from being overpowered. The snout of the beast breaks through my item menu, those vicious eyes above a mouth that dissolves away into a spray of digital blue blocks. I can't believe my eyes, the polygon blocks of data fume away around the head of the wolf and evaporate into the air.

"Die, you digitalized piece of shit!" I shout at the top of my lungs, bellowing out with a voice pushed out from deep within me.

The rage inside rises again, it floods into my muscles and invigorates my body. I push into the blade, one hand steadied on the hilt and the other pushing on the edge. Yellowed teeth sparking across the steel better than my flint ever would, the tiny flames dousing on a massive tongue. My sword cuts into the soft flesh at the sides of its mouth, tendrils of slobber and blood mixing as they drip across the silver-colored metal. I continue to push, through the searing pain in my palm, until the blade comes out clean on the other side of its head.

+258 Combat Experience

+231 Character Experience

You have leveled up!

You've reached level 5!

New skill learned: Warrior's Rage

I kneel by the mass of fur and fury. It lays limp and does not stir. My breath is heavy, but that rejuvenating feeling is coursing through my veins. A new sense of strength, mixed with a heightened awareness of the world around me. I click my belt and the menu finally leaves my vision, revealing the large white wolf that attacked.

My hand rests on the side of the wolf, and a mix of emotion wells up into my throat. I want to scream, cry, cheer. The anger inside me subsides and bottles again, rolling around in the pit of my stomach like a ball of snakes, replaced by a sudden feeling of hopelessness. My eyes close and my body heaves, I let go of everything and vomit.

. . .

There is a prompt hovering above the severed head of the wolf.

Collect [Dire Wolf's Head]

My two fingers double-click on the prompt and the head disappears into my bags. Mentally exhausted, I sheathe my sword and lay back down next to the smoldering fire. It must have snuffed out during the fight, there are large clumps of dirt sprinkled across the charred wood. I look to the sky, the two twin moons dancing in the star-speckled abyss above me.

With a deep sigh, I run my fingertips over the lids of my eyes.

"You're never going to believe me, Sara," I whisper into the fading breeze, a chuckle echoing between my lips.

And when the hell am I going to see you again? Are you having one hell of a time like me?

If I'm getting by on the skin of my teeth, I wonder how other people are faring in this harsh world. How many people have already lost their lives? And those who are dead in the game, are they now dying in the real world? Convulsing, as the chip malfunctions and sends an increased amount of electricity into the person's brain? But could the program even do that, and if not, how does the program kill you?

My trail of thought is ended by a piercing howl. My heart racing, and my steel out already, I realize that it is coming from deep within the forest, off somewhere in the distance and far enough away. The wolf beside me lays dead, growing cold like the fire and never able to bite again.

"I guess there are more out there," I say to myself. "As long as they do not get close, I should be fine-"

There is another howl that pierces the quiet of the night, out in the same direction of the first and considerably closer. A line of howls joins in with the last, each one growing closer until I can hear one off in the bush to my left. They howl with sorrow, that long and dragging note dogs make when they lose someone they love. Their voices meld together into one ear-piercing pitch, a unified chorus note that cuts at the nerves in my body. I cover my ears and put my head between my legs.

His howl must have attracted more. I need to get out of here.

There is rustling between the trunks of trees, out in the great expanse of darkness. Yelps and snarls, growls and barks, and the patter of many paws come from the darkness. I twist around and begin to run as soon as I get up.

Shadows, silhouettes of trees, pass by in silver-grey blurs as I trip and stumble through the roots and hills. I leap over fallen logs, duck under hanging branches, and make a break for the creepy silence of the night forest. Leaves kick up under my feet, and the muffled thunder of the pack behind me closes in.

I pass through a stream, the ankle-high water splashing around my boots. The leather on my feet squishes under my toes as I scramble up a hill on the other side, towards a large rock covered in moss that sits at the top. But there is no more sound of a pack behind me, and as I look back two wolves sniff the ground across the water. My breath catches in my chest and I freeze, hoping they do not notice me perched on the hill.

The two wolves turn in circles, sweeping the area before returning to my trail. Their paws dip into the water as they test it, but they seem unwilling to cross, the trail ends when it hits the water. With one final look around, they slowly trot away down the length of the stream.

I let out a sigh of relief. My ankle is on fire, pushed into an awkward angle as it desperately clings to a small ledge cut in between a few hanging roots. Careful not to make noise, I shift my foot to a rock buried in the soft dirt.

My ankle gets that cooling rush of relief and I give a laugh of triumph. Looks like luck is still on my side tonight and that I’ve survived. But for how long can I keep this up? It hasn't been 24 hours and I've barely escaped by the skin of my tit.

I look up to the top of the hill, passed the rock and out into the starry night. The way is steep, but I continue to climb the side of the hill, up towards that large stone and the freedom of the sky.

If I make it there, I should be safe-

My thought is cut short by the ledge giving away beneath my foot. The rock slides away, tumbles down the side of the hill, and splashes into the stream below. I hear two more loud splashes, coupled with frantic barking.

With new determination, I regain my footing and climb with double haste, not daring to look back as the sounds of nails scraping on rock come from the base of the hill. The top is a few yards up, and my arms are screaming for me to end their torture. I push on, my shoulders burning until I finally reach the top and stand on solid ground.

Beyond the giant stone, there is nothing but the steep wall of a cliffside. There is nowhere else to run, nothing to do but turn around and fight.

I'll be like a cornered raccoon, but maybe I can cut my way out.

My fingers dance around the hilt of my sword, ready to pull the blade and swipe at anything that comes from the darkness. One set of paws appears, then a second, third, fourth. They just keep coming until six large wolves stand in a staggered line.

The night is quiet, and in the still moment before the battle, I feel the weight of life as it leaves my shoulders. Is this how it feels when you know you're going to die?

My sword is light in my hand, I marvel at how it rolls across my palm like a baton. My breaths are deep, the cold night air invigorating my senses as it washes through my lungs. The line advances, expanding until it is a barrier that blocks any means of escape. On one side, a wall of stone and dirt, and on the other one of fur and fang.

"Well then, which one of your fuckers first?" I yell at the line of wolves.

One of them takes a half step forward, snorting at the dirt and growling deep in its throat. It charges forward, leaping across the grass, with two others spreading out on its flanks. They snarl, growl, pant, and bark, each one finding a different angle to attack me from.

"Let's do this," I growl back as the rage bursts like a flame in my chest.