NIGHTMARE SUBURBIA

Part 5

I blinked at the list of prompts flooding my vision. I’ve increased in rank and also replenished my Power (increasing its maximum points by one) when I absorbed whatever energy emanated from Dave’s body. I didn’t know what crystals and the essence were, but when I looked under the Core tab, the four abilities glowed this forest green hue, telling me I could upgrade one to Rank II. Curiously, it felt like I was no longer starving for a few days, though my stomach still growled for more.

As for dungeons…that took me a moment to wrap my head around.

It’s a game, I thought. At least it acts like one.

Then, another intrusive thought forced itself in: I fed on Dave’s body. Was that his fucking soul? Did I eat it and gain all these things?

Is this how I’m going to feed myself from now on? By killing people and then siphoning their essence?

Whatever this gem was, it followed specific rules. They are simple rules, by the looks of it. Garnering essence would increase my ranking and let me earn these crystals. Was a hundred a lot or not? I didn’t know how low “Z” was, but it’s probably not that good if we follow this alphabetically. As for the numbers, did it mean there were more than four thousand others like me? On Earth? Or on other worlds? I shook away the scary repercussions of such a reality. I didn’t want to delve too deep into it right now. I have more significant problems.

Turning the Yates Residence into a dungeon showed me anything could be a dungeon, including a bland and trite suburban house in the middle of boring small-town Americana.

I wondered why it used the word ‘dungeon’ and whether it genuinely meant a dungeon, like in the books, games, and movies where adventurers go down and get killed by elaborate traps and monsters. When I looked at the other tabs, it made more sense.

But the magic didn’t exist here. The floating gem—me—contradicted that thought.

Also, there were no adventurers on Earth, no sword-wielding aficionados, egotistical wizards, and fire-breathing dragons, just boring humans plodding on with their lives until they retired. We have gun lovers, soldiers, martial artists, power-hungry politicians, and wall-street billionaires hoarding the gold. Do they count?

The only man who I knew could do magic was Coach Hodge, and even he was incompetent at it. And he did murder me, so I shouldn’t go to him for advice about magical floating rocks that can absorb energy when people die—just thinking his name alone filled me with rage.

I looked at the last notification again.

[Would you like to designate The Yates Residence as your dungeon?]

“What would happen if I did?” I wondered out loud, but no one could hear me anyway. “Will it make it permanent? Can I have more than one?” I immediately found my answer when I focused on my rank.

[As a Rank Z Dungeon Core, you can create one dungeon.]

Interesting. Did that mean I could build more than one as I increased my rank? “And what the fuck is a dungeon core?”

The tab just led me to my name, [Mark Castle].

“Okay, that doesn’t really tell me what I am. What’s my purpose?”

[To grow.]

I paused. “Wait, can I die?”

[A Dungeon Core can be destroyed]

I gulped. I’m starting to get in now. I build these dungeons around me to protect my core, the gem. Why do adventurers go into dungeons in the first place? To get to the center of it all, the treasures. And I am that treasure. There’s probably a competent version of Coach Hodge running around out there, looking for the likes of me. If I could harness essence and do this magical crap, imagine what a summoner like Coach Hodge could do with my own essence now that I am a Dungeon Core.

However, The Yates’ house is not the safest place to build a dungeon. It’s too close to the town. Too close to the people. No, I needed somewhere isolated, a place where people wouldn’t stumble upon me by accident all the time. Something like—

The McLaren Forest.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

It’s the perfect hideout. It’s close to the mountains with the town nearby, surrounded by an old-growth forest and hardly any hikers. Plus, it’s a state park, so it’s well-protected from encroachment. No new housing development would suddenly knock at my front door.

And there’s an abandoned mine nearby.

But how would I get there? Green Hill was situated in the middle of town, and I had to pass through many people and a few dozen popular establishments to get there. I reckoned they’d freak out seeing a glowing rock the size of their fist floating down Main Street.

I needed someone to carry me there.

Luckily, I had one that could be under my control. I could create monsters.

A monster that could walk. A monster inconspicuous enough in the daylight, blending into the crowd. But without a designated dungeon, the tab remained inaccessible. I had to build the dungeon first to create the monster.

“Can I make a dungeon temporary?”

I waited, but no prompt showed up.

I decided to reiterate my question. “Let’s try that again. Can I dismantle a dungeon that I created?”

[Yes.]

“And what happens to the monster? Do they get destroyed, too?”

[No.]

I sighed in relief. “Well, that’s some good news, at least.”

[The Core and all of the dungeon’s residents must seek another location or be destroyed]

“Is there a time limit?”

[Two days.]

I can work with that. “Designate the Yates Residence as my dungeon.”

The air suddenly crackled with eerie energy, and an otherworldly glow bathed the room in a hazy, arcane light. Sigils and glyphs in varied shapes formed around me, etched into the floor, the walls, every nook and cranny, pulsing with a vibrant blue, green, red, and golden color, their lines weaving together in a complex web of power.

I trembled as I opened my mind towards these pulsating sigils, feeling the raw energy coursing through the gem’s surface. It wrapped around my body, coiling like serpents, as if testing my strength.

As the energy surged, my senses heightened to an almost supernatural degree. The colors seemed brighter, sounds more apparent, and I could feel the very pulse of the world around me. My body felt lighter as if I could defy gravity itself, and a surge of confidence welled up within, pushing aside any lingering doubts or fears.

I unleashed the torrential energy from the gem’s heart. Arcs of crackling red lightning shot forth from me, illuminating the basement for a split second in a dazzling display of raw power. The air itself hummed with anticipation as the glyphs melded into the walls, the floor, and every object in the house.

I could sense people. Humans. They walked around inside the other houses, doing their morning routines, eating breakfast, and getting ready for work and school. With the gem’s radius, I could sense at least ninety-three people around me.

[You created your first dungeon!]

[Unique Location: Small-Town Suburbia]

[Rank (Z): #4702 > #3955]

[Power: 10/10]

[You received: 100 crystals]

[You can now upgrade 2 core ability ranks]

[Dungeons are now accessible]

[Monsters are now accessible]

[Traps are now accessible]

I was surprised that just by creating the dungeon, I made a giant leap in ranks, added four more Power slots, and then gained more crystals, now totaling two hundred. I might have triggered a hidden reward. It was my first dungeon, after all. I wondered if there were any more hidden ones.

But first things first.

I opened up the [Core] tab and decided (with my upgrade of two points) that increasing my telekinesis and levitation to rank II would better help me defend myself and gain more movement.

Telekinesis II: Move an object or a creature more than fifteen feet in a three-dimensional space. Duration: 12 seconds.

Levitate II: Move your core no more than fifteen feet off the ground, allowing you to move horizontally or vertically for the duration. Duration: 15 minutes.

The upgrades increased the abilities’ distance by five feet and doubled my telekinetic duration by another six seconds. However, levitation only extended that by five minutes. I doubted that would be enough to get me to the woods, especially with my measly Power slots. I would need hundreds. It would do for now.

A ringing phone from beneath the TV stand in the basement pulled me out of my thoughts.

Dave’s phone.

I floated under the furniture. It rang twice while the same person texted Dave a few more times. Wisps of red energy crackled around the gem as my rage boiled over.

MAXINE (Don’t Answer):

Ey, genius. Answer the phone. Hodge wants me to come over. You said it’s important???

MAXINE (Don’t Answer):

Dude. Answer the phone.

MAXINE (Don’t Answer):

Adam and I will be over around noon. If it’s not that important, let me know soon so we can go do something else.

Maxine Fairlie.

She was one of the cultists who killed me. The wine girl, I thought.

Her full name floated in the air once I whispered her name, and I could sense her presence on Green Hill. I can see them! The excitement filled me with a surge of purpose, and I sent my many-eyes toward her residence, just at the edge of the neighborhood and a few blocks away from the Yates.

She dropped her phone on the kitchen counter while working on her juice maker. She wore yoga pants and a sports bra, and clearly, she just finished working out in her personal gym.

“Hey Siri, remind me to call Dave the Asshole in one hour,” Maxine said. She then texted Hodge that she was going to Dave’s house later. “Adam! What time is your lunch with your parents again?” She shouted.

I flew toward the second floor’s master’s bathroom where a good-looking older man, closer to Maxine’s age, was glued to his phone, sending a dick pic to a woman that was not Maxine. “Uh, just a sec, honey! I’ll be down in a minute!”

This man—Adam—must be her husband.

I floated back down to the kitchen, wanting to be petty by using my telekinesis and maybe ruin that fucking juice she was making and let all the sugar cling to her skin. However, nothing happened when I exerted the same force I did for Dave.

[Action nullified. You are outside the limit of the dungeon]

Well, at least I found my limits.

A beautiful home. A perfect job. Her own gym. A handsome husband. It boiled my insides how she benefited from the killing rituals. I remembered how bored she was when Hodge and Dave butchered me.

I looked at the clock, which had just struck nine-thirty in the morning—enough time to make this house cultist-proof before her arrival.