The Father, the Fool, and the Fucking Nightmare

1

“Don’t worry, John. You are just going to register. That doesn’t mean you will be sent to The Garden. Mom says dad will have most of that responsibility.”

John tuned his sister’s words out as they rode with their mom to the library. It wasn’t actually a library anymore.

The establishments deemed “mandatory for survival” such as grocery stores, clothing stores, and certain other commodity based businesses had been inexplicably taken over overnight. The aliens had almost seamlessly replaced humans as vendors. Their extremely advanced technology apparently made them capable of replicating and mass producing anything humans had ever imagined.

From vegan and gluten free foods to high grade fabrics whose comfort levels far exceeded any designer clothing ever conceived. They didn’t even charge anything for the services.

The Kumani took over everything humans “needed” to thrive in The Garden. It was all free of charge provided that the household remained up to date with their quotas. The rest of society, like libraries, schools, and government buildings, was repurposed.

This particular library was the building the Kumani chose as the Office of Transfer Registrations. It was where his parents had gone three months ago in compliance with the Kumani’s demands.

According to them, the whole ordeal was a simple and expedient one. They had been given a chip in their arm which supposedly regulated and compiled all data collected by the implant all humans had. Mankind had not accepted the existence of the undesired implants calmly.

It wasn’t as if they had a choice though. The implants had been there, inactive from birth. Whether they were some ingrained part of each individual’s DNA or if they were otherwise some kind of high tech life form that grew unnoticed by humans was unknown. How either speculation was possible was a subject of much discussion in many circles.

John was uninterested in such talk. He had the implant wether he wanted to or not. The question of how it existed seemed like useless contemplation.

The three of them drove on in silence for the next few minutes. John’s dad had been gone for a week. The first time this happened, they had all been worried.

His first venture into The Garden had only lasted a day. He had returned with the meat from several rodents. Apparently they had attacked him almost as soon as he left the safety of the base he had been assigned to.

That was the nature of The Garden. In gardens, things grew. Some were plants, some were animals. All were dangerous.

Even the rodents his father had managed to kill had taken bites of his flesh. He had needed to receive flesh replacements from the Kumani rehabilitation center. After that time, the three of them had a deep sense of unease every time Jack disappeared from the teleport pad.

Still, he had always returned so far. This time would hopefully be no different. Even so, he was approaching his record for longest time in The Garden.

John shook his head to clear the uneasy thoughts. His mind turned as it invariably did to the question of why. The Kumani had subjugated the entire human race, as well as many other planets’ top species if the accounts his father and others gave were true.

What was so confusing was that they did not give direct instructions when it came to The Garden. There was no goal; there were no labor quotas to meet apart from the minimum required trips each adult was forced to take. It was only the data their implants compiled that the Kumani deemed important to have.

Each returning human had the sensor in their arm scanned to save the memories experienced while in The Garden to the Kumani database. Why they needed other races to enter for them was the question most humans had. Would it not be easier to enter themselves?

John didn’t know. But when Jack came back with what The Garden called “Primitive genes” from his kills, the nature of their servitude changed. John’s father said that a voice spoke within his mind, telling him he could absorb them.

When John and Emma attempted this, nothing happened apart from their hands becoming cold while holding the genes. But when their parents concentrated on them, they began to dissolve.

A voice, somehow different from the one they had all heard during the takeover, spoke to them as the genes melted into their skin.

“Primitive Razor Rat genes absorbed. You have gained three Primitive Genes.”

The idea that humans would grow stronger based on how often they hunted and harvested genes from the beasts of The Garden was met with great excitement. After all, the Kumani did not require the genes, so it was a neutral gain for the mandatory trips they were made to take.

There was already great speculation as to what the Kumani were actually after. There were ideas ranging from fossil fuels to rare nuclear isotopes. Nothing proposed was ever proven though. The Kumani just kept sending them there and scanning their minds. The object of their desire remained a mystery.

Hopefully they wouldn’t find what they sought. John didn’t know anything about them as a race, but as far as he was concerned they were just planetary bullies. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

“John? Are you listening?” His mother’s voice cut in.

“Huh? I’m sorry. What?”

“We’re here. It’s time to go.”

“Okay,” he responded calmly.

The world spun around him as he opened the car door and stepped into the fresh air. The world was a very different place than it had been before the takeover. Far fewer cars were to be seen, while numerous flying Kumani vessels could be seen at any given time.

It wasn’t that less cars existed now. It was simply that after the forced conversion from combustion based transportation to whatever miracle the proclaimed “Element 261” was, many refused to continue using their cars.

John could understand the suspicion, but even without being the driver he could tell how much more efficient the forced makeover had made their car. It didn’t start or stall. The car was in a perpetual state of potential that was unrivaled by even the greatest of electric cars.

Said electric cars were one of the few forms of transportation surprisingly untouched by the integration. Those and the few willing people like John’s family were the only cars now driving. Most people got around by calling for their oppressors to send a complimentary Kumani Shuttle, also contingent upon minimum time spent in The Garden.

John watched one fly by over head, quick and nearly silent. He stared at it as it receded into the distance. His mind was a jumble of anxiety and excitement.

“This way,” his mom said as she led him towards the library.

The three of them entered the building along with a few others coming for similar reasons. He caught the eye of a cocky looking boy who appeared to be coming of age just as John was. The boy sneered at the apprehension that was obvious on John’s face.

John looked away, uninterested. People like that had always perplexed him. The world was so large and unpredictable, anyone who approached it with blind confidence was a moron or worse.

As he and his two female relatives approached the desk, John studied the Kumani behind it. They were a frail race. Small in both stature and height.

Little of the creature’s actual body was visible. Various wires and lights were interwoven and connected to various places on the alien’s body, making it look like some kind of machine. A chrome helmet reflected John’s face back to him as he stared.

John knew that somewhere under all the technology there was a life form of some sort. Its chest moved subtly, only a minor indication of any lung activity, but it did exist. That and the garbled noise that always preceded the speech translation of Kumani were the only indicators that the race weren’t all machines, despite appearances to the contrary.

“Please present your arm,” the alien said.

John’s mom stepped forward and held her arm out. A red light like the scanner at a grocery store painted her arm crimson briefly before giving a soft beep of confirmation. The Kumani immediately began studying the information given by the analysis.

“One child, male, is coming of age tomorrow. Have you come to do a preregistration?”

“We have,” his mom answered calmly.

“Step forward,” the Kumani said.

John took a few seconds to realize the command was aimed at him. He took a tentative step forward. His heart was pounding in his chest.

“Present your right arm,” the alien commanded.

John did so, placing it wrist up on the counter. The Kumani made no move, but a mechanical arm first grabbed his own and then quickly jabbed something sharp into it.

John jumped back with a shout of surprise. The Kumani let his arm go almost immediately, throwing him off balance. The pain was sharp, but as quickly as it had come, it faded away.

“You are now registered to enter The Garden starting tomorrow. Records show that your implants have a defect. Please wait here while this issue is resolved.”

John just looked at the alien in confusion as a blue light shone across his forehead. He squinted at the brightness, but just as the pain had, the light disappeared quickly. He was left blinking the spots away from his vision as the Kumani spoke again.

“Surveillance mode has been restored to your implants. Thank you for your patience. A reevaluation agent will visit your home within one standard earth day to update your contract. Next in line please step forward.”

John and the two women left the former library as the line continued in bureaucratic fashion. The drive home was a silent one wherein John worried about what the future would bring. When they got there, the reevaluation agent was already present. It greeted them with a mechanical wave and immediately began its duties.

“Your residence has been updated to reflect the following: three adults, one adolescent. As such, your contract has hereby been updated to reflect this change. Your residence is henceforth required to have two of the three adults make trips to The Garden no less than two times per month. One adult is permitted to remain as guardian for the remaining adolescent. Roles are interchangeable. Failure to meet this quota will result in disintegration of the residence as well as termination of all occupants within. Reevaluation is scheduled for two years, four months, and twenty six standard earth days from now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Then the bot zoomed back into the sky like an unmanned drone. John looked at Emma before a sly grin split his face. She rolled her eyes before he could even get the words out.

“You’re the only kid in the house now. Us adults will keep you safe while you grow into your servitude.”

2

“Happy Birthday!”

John was awakened the next day by his dad’s exuberant voice. He immediately jumped out of bed and ran to greet the man. His excitement was so great that he almost missed the wrapped gift his dad was holding.

“You’re back!” John said ecstatically.

“Of course I’m back. It’s my son’s birthday. Where else would I be?”

“It’s been so long. We thought something happened to you.”

“Something did happen. The team came upon an Awakened fox. It was a lot tougher than Primitive prey. Nothing your old man couldn’t handle though. I sold my portion of the meat to get you this. Open it.”

John took the present. It was shallow and not very wide, though it was over a foot long. It looked like a box that would contain a necklace. When he opened it up though; jewelry was not what he found.

“Woah,” he said, slightly awed.

Sitting in the velvet lined container was a sleek and polished dagger. The blade was almost a foot long, while the handle would fit his hand perfectly.

“Where did you get this?” He asked.

“Downtown. Cost me a few Awakened points, but I imagine the two of us can make that up pretty quickly. What do you think?”

“I love it. Thanks dad.”

John’s birthday was spent in luxury. Various presents were received from his mom and sister. One such gift was a small container of Kumani Field Salve.

According to the label, which had English words printed over the tangled and scribbled lines that made the Kumani script, it was used for mending damage to the body. A bruise would heal after a day. Cuts would close much faster. It also fought all types of infection. It was a great gift for one about to enter The Garden.

They all spent the day together, enjoying some cake and lavishing each other’s company. When it came time to go to sleep, John still had a smile on his face. His family was the best. And he would cherish them forever.

The next day, Jack returned to The Garden. John’s mom had asked him repeatedly the day before to take a few days off before returning, but unlike her, Jack had killed and claimed genes from many primitive creatures and had already began to see the difference in his physique.

He told John to get some practice in with his new blade, saying they would take a trip together when he felt confident. John followed his dad’s instructions and worked for hours each of the following days to become proficient with it. He was determined to make his father proud when they finally ventured into The Garden together.

But after more than two weeks, Jack hadn’t returned. Emily grew more worried with each passing day, and John knew something bad must have happened. What was worse was that with his new adult status, either he or his mother were obligated to go into The Garden to meet the quota of the residence.

After three weeks, Emily had no choice but to enter The Garden herself. The quota of four total trips was lacking by half. So, leaving John in charge of Emma, she left. Promising to return in a day or two, she stepped onto the teleport pad at the station and disappeared.

Her two children spent the next day in fearful acceptance that neither of their parents might ever return. Emma spent the day wiping away silent tears. John on the other hand was more practical.

All that day, he practiced his cuts and jabs with the dagger his father gave him. The practice dummy made an unrealistic target, but for learning the basics, it sufficed. He also experimented with throwing the blade, but after three failed attempts, he feared damaging the blade.

On the second day, Emily returned. The elation they both felt at seeing her drained away at the sight of her bloodstained clothes. John immediately helped her to a chair and began applying the medicine she had given him for his birthday to her various open wounds.

“What happened?” He asked.

“My group was attacked by an Awakened beast. It wreaked havoc on us. Luckily I was able to get away.”

“That’s horrible. Did you find anything out about dad?” Emma asked.

“I went to his room. The door had a label on it that said ‘shuffle in progress’. I don’t know what that means. But I do know rooms aren’t kept for dead people. Several faces have changed in the rooms near mine since last time I went. Wherever he is, I think your father is alive.”

John made his mom rest for the day, bandaging her wounds and bringing her whatever she needed. He was so scared that he had lost both of his parents that he never wanted her to leave again. That was why he made up his mind.

“I’m going to go,” he said quietly.

“No,” his mother said sternly.

“Mom, think about it. You have only been in The Garden a few times. Dad has been going regularly and even he is missing now. What would we do if you never came back?”

Emily looked at her son with tears in her eyes. John recognized the look. It was the sad acceptance of an outcome she did not want to acknowledge. It was the same look she had made every time Jack left for The Garden.

“You’re so young,” she said, more in grievance than an attempt to persuade him.

“And Emma is younger still. Do you think I could take care of us both if you never returned? We have less than a week to meet our quota. It has to be this way.”

His mother nodded slightly, the only agreement John would get from her. He accepted it without complaint. He knew how hard the situation was for her.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he said before leaving the room.

3

John approached the teleport pad with apprehension. He had not felt so nervous in his entire life. Having no family member or acquaintance to accompany him on his first trip to The Garden made it seem more like an assisted suicide. The Kumani manning the pad spoke as John’s arm chip was scanned.

“First time entrance. The teleport location for this transit station is defaulted to Emerald Base. Would you like to select a new location?”

John knew that Emerald Base was the name of the outpost that all humans using this transit station would arrive at. His father had also told him that each person would be assigned their own room once there. It was one of the many interesting things no one had an explanation for.

“Emerald is fine.” He said, albeit apprehensively.

“Confirmed. Please step onto the pad. You are required to remain in The Garden for no less than one full day before returning. Failure to leave the base will increase this time until at least three hours of exploration have occurred. The teleport pad in your room will not become active until these conditions have been met. Thank you for your compliance.”

John listened to the stipulations required as he took his place on the pad. He almost rolled his eyes at the polite wording. It was as if his servitude was his choice.

Before he could form a mental retort for the alien, he felt his entire body begin to vibrate. It felt like standing on the back of a massive fan. Then, in an instant, he was no longer standing in the transit station.

Instead, he stood in a small room. It was peculiar, because the room looked entirely ordinary. It had a bed, a nightstand, a toilet, and oddly enough, a range for cooking. An unfamiliar female voice suddenly sounded in his head.

“Welcome to The Garden: Stage One. You have been assigned room number 16,348. Henceforth, all transition to or from The Garden will take place from this room unless damaged or manually transferred to a different base. None may enter without verbally expressed permission.”

That was all. No other information was provided. John stood on the inactive pad for several seconds, just taking in his surroundings.

The room was lit from nowhere in particular. A noninvasive light just seemed to exist everywhere. It gave the room a shadowless appearance that gave John trouble determining distances and depth.

Feeling disoriented, John moved to the door. It had no handle. It had no hinge. The only thing that denoted it as a door was the difference in color between it and the rest of the walls.

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As he approached it, the door slid aside like a sliding glass door. No sound accompanied this and soon the entire door was buried in the wall. The seam was too small to fit a piece of paper into.

John was impressed by the seemingly advanced architecture of The Garden. Especially considering that no technology was permitted within its borders. It begged the question of how and why such a place existed.

Pushing the idea from his mind, John left his room behind, making special note of its number. To his surprise, he found himself standing on a busy street. People passed by in both directions.

Not really knowing where he was going, John turned right and followed the larger crowd. He supposed eventually he would have to find the outer walls of the base. Sure enough, the road connected to a larger road soon, and once again, he had to make special note of where he had come from. Luckily, every road had a sign above it detailing which room numbers could be found there.

Not all roads seemed to have rooms though. Some led to market centers, some led to what was labeled as an “essence trade center”. John had no idea what that meant, but continued with the flow of people none the less.

In due time John found the gate. There, he noticed a queue of people standing in line to sign a paper. He could tell at a glance that this was an open enrollment for anyone who wanted to join a hunt. He quickly moved to the line.

When he got to the front, the man took his name and asked about his experience. Finding him to be green, the man directed him to the group he should join.

He was placed in the middle of a group with four other young hunters. After some observation and careful attention to the conversation, he learned that they were all only slightly older than he was.

The youngest, Brandon, was only two days older than John. In fact, John recognized him after a moment as the sneering kid he had met at the registry. The other two were roughly a month and three weeks older than him respectively.

Brandon took no time at all to start bragging about how he had already killed his first dozen creatures. The others were mildly impressed by this but became downright adoring when he summoned a leafy dagger into his palm. John knew immediately what it was: a soul weapon.

“Got this from a giant primitive mantis on my first hunt. It’s sharp as steel and the weight is evenly balanced. You watch, I’ll kill no less than three stags on this trip.”

John was unimpressed by a primitive drop and didn’t react to his boasting. The other two youths’ enthusiasm made John’s lack of it all the more evident, and Brandon took it as an invitation to challenge him.

“Uninterested are you?” He asked John with a leer. A shrug was all he received in response.

“I’ll bet you this very blade that I can kill more stags than you on this hunt.” John was about to respond when the voice of The Garden spoke in his mind.

“Brandon has extended a bet to you. Kill more stags than him on this hunting trip to win his primitive mantis dagger.”

John shook his head and turned away from the trio. He was not interested in showing off or making enemies. He simply walked to the front of the group and awaited the departure.

Before ordering the departure, men moved through the ranks, handing out small practice bows. John had never used one before, but the man insisted he have some form of distanced offense. Shrugging, John took the bow and a small quiver from the man. The call came only a couple minutes later and the group left the safety of Emerald Base.

John traveled with the group for almost half the day before they came to the forest they sought. During that time, he saw many animals on the plains. They were all either scared away by the group or quickly hunted if they attacked. The veterans of the group worked with efficiency, never allowing the four beginners to come to harm. It was a safe journey.

Soon after entering the forest, John started hearing sounds of creatures living there. The calls of numerous birds could be heard. Insects chittered at high volume all around.

John and a few others took the opportunity to take a few test shots at some small creatures. Growing up, John had watched his father practicing with a bow frequently. Always the tutor, Jack had often made observations out loud about what he had done wrong on a shot.

Listening to his father’s self criticism did little to teach John how to shoot a bow. He quickly found that such a small target as the squirrel he saw perched in a tree would be near impossible to kill without immense practice time. Deciding to save his arrows, John gave up the practice.

Nonetheless, John kept his bow ready for any beast that charged the group. Despite the alarming amount of activity around them, nothing approached the group. An hour later, they came to the herd of primitive stags they had come to hunt.

They did not behave like the deer of earth. They showed no sign of fear at the large group. Those with bows quickly sighted in on the outer perimeter of the beasts. John took aim at one himself and when the order was given, he and the others let loose their arrows.

John’s arrow flew high and missed the beast altogether. Others tried as well but fell short or went wide, while a few sunk home, claiming lives of a few Primitive beasts in the process. John grabbed a new arrow and nocked it as fast as he could.

At the provocation of the humans, hundreds of primitive stags lurched to their feet. In seconds, the forest was a flurry of activity as the stags ran every direction, goring a man here and there as they passed the group.

Brandon wasted no time launching himself into the fray. He completely disregarded the bow he had been given, actually throwing it on the ground in his haste. He bounded towards a deer, but it quickly pranced in the other direction.

He had no hope of catching the beasts on foot and with nothing but a dagger, but he ran around in any case, head whipping from side to side as he looked for a stag to kill.

John shot arrows at as many as he could, usually missing the agile creatures. He did get a glancing blow on the antler of a fleeing stag, but no real damage was done. He sighted in on a small stag that was limping around as though it had hurt a leg on something.

As he looked though, he heard it scream for a larger stag ahead of it. He realized the smaller one was a child. He tore his gaze from it to find a new target. He was just about to fire on a large stag only twenty yards from him when he heard a pained scream from the infant deer.

Turning his head, he saw Brandon on top of the beast. He was stabbing it repeatedly with his mantis dagger. It let out horrendous noises as it was mutilated by the arrogant boy. John felt sadness in his heart for the poor creature, but even as he felt it well within him, he heard a new cry. This time, it was unmistakably one of rage.

John turned his head to behold a massive stag that must have stood ten feet at the shoulder. It looked more like moose had always been described. It was a startling white, contrasted against the brown fir of its brethren.

John beheld its massive antlers, which must have spread at least eight feet to each side and had no less than fifty prongs on each. As he watched, the massive stag raised its head and bellowed at the sky.

The whole forest seemed to freeze. The humans stared at the massive beast with terror. As it brought the battle to a standstill, John felt a shiver run down his spine. One by one, each and every head turned to the massive stag. In unison, the herd of stags charged. No longer undisciplined, no longer aimless. Now, they had direction. And that direction was simple: kill all the humans.

Even as he watched, more stags rose to their feet from within the tall grass. Dozens, each six feet at the shoulder rose to join the fray. Behind them, a smaller number of even bigger stags rose. These were smaller than the buck but larger than the others. John felt terror grip him as they thundered towards the humans.

John ran as fast as he could and tossed his bow into a nearby tree. Hastily launching himself into the lowest branches of it, he scrambled after his weapon. He didn’t stop climbing until he was twice as high as the giant stag was tall. At that point, he had already heard the screams begin.

People were screaming in terror as razor sharp antlers pierced them and they were sent hurtling through the air. As he observed the ensuing carnage below, his eyes landed on Brandon, who had just finished killing the immature stag with his dagger. He looked up from his kill as he heard thundering hooves pelting towards him.

John watched the recognition dawn on Brandon’s face as his eyes locked on the buck. Over a ton of muscled fury raged towards him and he could do nothing but widen his eyes as the stag lowered its head impossibly to impale the insignificant human that had just killed one of its children. Brandon could only utter a strangled cough as nearly all of his internal organs were ruptured on the points of the massive deer’s antlers.

The deer drove Brandon into a tree and pinned him to it. Blood fountained from his mouth and nose as spasms wracked him. John stared in horror as a boy barely older than him was massacred before his eyes. The stag pinned him to a broken branch in the tree and used its massive antlers to rip his body limb from limb. Blood dyed the once pristine white coat of the stag red. All around him, similar scenes of carnage unfurled. People had retreated to the trees just as he had, but the stags had fell on them like a tide of water, their superior footing letting them outrun and outmaneuver each and every human.

John watched over and over as his fellow humans were gored and slain before him. Tears fell from his face as slowly but surely he became the last living human in his group. John just sat in the tree, shaking as the stags took revenge upon humans for months of raids on their herd.

One primitive stag came to the base of the tree and started peering up at him. It snorted loudly and started making grunt noises towards the other deer. John strung an arrow and drew it back. He had to kill the deer before the pack leader was alerted. He took quick aim and let loose his arrow.

He had not had any luck with his previous shots. Learning how to shoot a bow accurately took countless hours of diligent practice. He couldn’t hope to be proficient with a bow after only a few casual attempts. This time however, his aim was true.

His arrow sunk in from above and the deer went down. John released his breath as he heard the deer hit the ground. His elation was short lived though.

Drawn by the attention of its fellow. Another deer came to the tree. This one made even more commotion than the first had. John took another three shots to kill this one.

He sighed in relief as he looked around to confirm that no other deer had noticed him in the tree. The commotion of the slaughter was all the cover he needed. At the same time, the voice of The Garden spoke in his head.

You have won the bet. Brandon killed one stag. You killed two. For winning the bet, you receive Primitive Mantis Dagger.

John was so shocked that he almost fell from the tree. He had not expected the one-sided bet to yield anything. It turned out The Garden held people to their word.

He felt the most peculiar sensation wash over him as his mind expanded. He had heard his father’s second hand account of what it felt like when one received a beast soul. But words had not adequately described the icy sensation settling over his mind as the previously empty repository for beast souls expanded to hold his new prize.

Without even trying, John could feel it there, ready to be called upon. He wasted no time and summoned the dagger from the spot it had appeared in his mind. An oversized praying mantis materialized in his palm before quickly shifting into the blade Brandon had flaunted.

It was green and resembled a sharp leaf. The blade was thin and razor sharp. John could see how useful it would be against primitive creatures. Unfortunately, it would probably only get him killed in this scenario.

The forest grew quiet, and John leaned against the tree. He was breathing heavily from the adrenaline pumping in his veins. After a few seconds of this, he began to realize that the scene wasn’t just quiet. It was unnatural silence.

It reminded John of the moment between an insult and a fist fight. It was the calm before the storm. It was the order before the chaos. And John knew instinctively that he was going to be the center of that chaos.

Looking down, he saw the herd leader across the clearing. It had stopped moving. It was grunting and snorting in anger. And worse, it was staring directly at him. As he watched, stag after stag formed ranks around it.

Numerous stags lined up at its urging. John threw his bow over his shoulder and started climbing. He climbed to a height of almost a hundred feet. The limbs of the tree bent heavily under his weight and the trunk itself swayed from one side to the other.

John hoped in vain that he would be safe from the onslaught. As the massive stag lowered its head and lumbered towards him, silently shepherding all of its smaller brethren to charge, John simply grabbed the tree tight and braced for what he feared might knock him from the tree.

The entire stag herd charged him. Only the pack leader slammed into the tree, but it was enough to cause devastation. John held on as tight as he could as the entire tree lurched.

His grip was almost lost with the impact but he was able to hold on by locking his legs in place. The force of the impact sent a massive vibrating tremor up the trunk of the tree and John struggled again not to fall.

Just as the vibration started to wane, John heard a loud crack. His world tilted backward as the tree snapped. John could only look back and scream as his tree barreled toward another series of trees. He wailed openly as the collision sent him wrenching into the tangled arms of another tree.

He felt branches break and leaves slapped him as he fell through the limbs. He grasped at every branch that came into reach, but the ones that didn’t snap instantly slipped through his desperate fingers. Branch after branch broke on various parts of his body as he fell. His bow was flung from his shoulder and lost to the pull of gravity.

Just as he feared he would either fall to his death or break his neck on a passing branch, he hit a large tree limb with his left shoulder. This sent him spinning as he passed it. He flipped what felt like three times or more before his stomach was smashed by a thick limb below him.

Without even a second of difference, the contents of John’s stomach were thrust from him to rain down on the forest floor below. His entire body hurt from the fall. He could do nothing to help himself. He just lay across the branch that had assaulted him and gasped for breath. He couldn’t draw so much as a puff of air around the tree limb in his guts.

John struggled for several seconds before leaning his body back to let his legs dangle. They quickly found a branch below him and he took the pressure from his bruised stomach. He struggled for a couple more seconds before gasping in great lungfuls of air. For several seconds he just sat panting against the trunk of the second tree. It was several minutes before he heard the steady breath of another.

Looking down, he beheld the massive stag only twenty feet below him. It’s red eyes stared directly at him. The tree he had fallen into was much larger than the first and they both understood that it could not break this second tree as easily. Instead, all of the stags it commanded lurked beneath the tree. They all stared up at him as if to say, “you gotta come down sometime.” John was alarmed to realize that they were absolutely right.

4

John sat quietly in the tree for three days as the stags prowled below him. They proved capable of holding a grudge. The giant one never left the base of the tree. It slept only a couple hours a day, and John was getting tired of its steady gaze peering into his soul, promising death.

John had blown through all of the rations he brought with him. He had only packed enough for two days. Thus, he was becoming both ravenous and desperate on the fourth day. He was beginning to think he would have to jump out of the tree and hope he could stab the king stag to death before being mauled to death by all the others. Before desperation became determination, something unexpected happened.

A cry broke the silence of the forest. Then another. John’s skin crawled as he recognized the call from his childhood. His family owned property outside the city, on the edge of national forest land.

There was a cow field owned by a neighbor near their house. And every now and again the very same cry could be heard from the forest at night. It was the cry of a large cat.

John shivered at the idea that more than one panther was nearby. Cats could climb very well. John was worse than dead in the tree.

Before he had time to worry about himself, chaos once again erupted around him. Panthers, more than a dozen darted from the limbs of nearby trees and launched themselves at the massive stag.

It let out a cry of alarm and began stumbling around as the cats attempted to maul it. The other stags reacted as deer are apt to when faced with predators. They freaked the fuck out and scattered in all directions.

Smaller panthers detached from trees and fell on the lesser stags as they fled. Drawn by the scent of so much spilled blood, an entire pack of Awakened Jaguars came to see what the fuss was. They were led by a dozen Enhanced Jaguars.

The Enhanced Jaguars worked systematically to incapacitate the king stag. Despite its handicap, the stag was not outmatched. It swung its head to gore two panthers as they pounced at it. Three more landed on its back and sunk into it. They bit it on its back and neck, ripping bloody chunks from the beast.

It immediately dropped to the ground and rolled, crushing the cats beneath its immense weight. It returned to its feet shakily and swung its antlers to meet another pouncing cat. It knocked the panther into a tree, breaking its back.

The six remaining panthers didn’t waste the opportunity. Three jumped on the stag from behind, tearing large bloody gashes in its hide. It screamed a horrible scream but managed to roll once again and crush the three panthers beneath it. Now down to three, the cats dove at the throat of the beast. All three of them latched on with their strong jaws and drew blood from the beast. It tossed its head from side to side, but the three were firmly rooted.

The stag king barreled at the tree John still hid in and slammed into it hard enough to almost dislodge him from his perch. Two of the cats were knocked loose and promptly trampled. The last was disoriented but managed to sink its fangs deeper even as the stag swung its mighty head once more. The panther was torn free of its throat but not without bringing a mouthful of flesh with it. It slammed into a nearby tree and fell limp to the ground.

The stag king was mortally wounded, but it had killed each and every Enhanced Jaguar that sought it. The lesser stags had all ran into the forest to escape the Awakened Jaguars, and so John was alone with the massive Stag as it fell to its stomach, and thence to its side. John stared with shock as the breathing of the beast slowed. Beneath it, blood began to pool on the ground. An idea, unbidden and impossible to ignore occurred to John.

Quickly, he descended the thirty feet or so that separated him from the stag. He kept a close eye on it as he descended. It simply lay there breathing gently. Its massive lungs struggled to fill with air a bit harder with each breath it took. John touched down on solid ground again for the first time in over three days just as it’s breathing stilled.

John summoned his Primitive Mantis Dagger and walked to the beast. It’s massive antlers made it precarious to approach. The way it held its head on the ground left them free to swing if it turned its head. But as John approached, he knew that was not going to be an issue.

He rounded the beast and walked to the massive hole in its neck. Looking from it to his dagger, he took a breath and plunged his blade into the open wound repeatedly. Blood sprayed all over him and splashed the trees and ground with a smattering of gore. As the beast’s heart ceased to beat, John heard an amazing voice in his head.

Advanced Lunar Stag killed. Soul weapon acquired: Lunar Stag Bow. Lunar Stag Essence available. Consume to receive Advanced genes.

John was flabbergasted. In the months since his world had been transported to The Garden, he had heard tales of different ranks of creatures. The highest rank of beast he had heard tell of anyone killing was an Enhanced beast. That had cost Emerald Base nearly one hundred good fighters. Looking at the body of the Advanced Lunar Stag before him, John understood why everyone else had died. In truth, he was alive only because of the scent of the many humans the stags had slain.

He never imagined he would find an Advanced beast on this trip. He couldn’t fathom absorbing Advanced genes before even Primitive ones. And the Soul weapon. His bow had been destroyed after falling from the tree and being trampled by the stags.

He had mourned it from his forced perch, but now, only days later, he had received an Advanced Lunar Stag Bow. He shivered as he felt the Advanced Soul squeeze into his expanding mind. He wasted no time summoning it from his mind.

It appeared in his hands in an instant. It was an ivory bow, seemingly made from the antlers of the slain stag before him. It was sleek. Solid white, with velvet grips in the middle. It was only three feet from end to end. The string was taught, and when John tried to draw it, he quickly realized that it was beyond his ability.

“What good is a bow I can’t draw?” He asked the sky.

Walking to the head of the stag, John inspected it. He knew from secondhand tales that the genes of creatures were usually something prominent and important to the creature’s identity. Sure enough, when he inspected the antlers of the beast, a three foot length of antler began to glow under his gaze. It was chilled to the touch.

John found where it ended and began sawing it off with the mantis dagger. He had to work for several minutes before the gene snapped free of the rest of the antlers. When it did, the voice in his head spoke again.

Advanced Lunar Stag Essence harvested. Absorb now?

John immediately thought his acquiescence and the cold gene began to dissolve in his hands. The freezing cold seemed to seep into his arms and chest, invigorating him like nothing he had ever experienced. It continued to seep into him until nothing was left.

Advanced Lunar Stag genes acquired. Advanced Genes: 8 of 100

Maximize at least one type of gene to be eligible for evolution

John gasped as energy flooded his body. He dropped to his knees and panted. He had no idea it would be so intense to absorb genes. After he caught his breath, he surveyed the area. Looking back in the direction of Emerald Base, he saw a path of carnage. Stags, panthers, and most prominently, humans littered the entire forest. John shuddered. He was the only survivor of his first hunting trip. What would he tell the guards at the gate? Would they suspect him of treachery?

He supposed it didn’t matter. He had to go back. Certain death awaited him in the wild. He took a step forward before a gleam caught his eye. Looking down, the fangs of an Enhanced Jaguar twinkled at him. John’s eyes widened.

There had been twelve Enhanced Jaguars. The Stag had killed them all. Along the path back home, numerous lesser stags and jaguars littered the ground.

John set to his task with haste. He didn’t know when or if any of the stags or jaguars would return. He had to be fast.

Taking the provision pack from his back, he quickly ripped the fangs of every jaguar he found out and stowed them in the pack. He only found ten of the twelve Enhanced beasts, but moving on, he quickly found that the genes on lesser beasts were all fangs and antlers as well. With steadily increasing proficiency, John harvested them all.

Soon, his bag was filled with the much smaller Awakened and Primitive genes of both stags and jaguars alike. Unlike the Advanced gene, none of them took up much room. Despite the traumatizing manner in which he had acquired the surprise windfall, John smiled at the prospect of having so much potential in his bag.

Though much smaller than the Advanced gene had been, his bag quickly filled to capacity with the smaller variants. When he could hold no more, he began absorbing the genes directly. He absorbed four Primitive stags and two Awakened Jaguars before leaving the proximity of bodies on his journey back.

The trail of bodies didn’t stop, but it did waiver from his course. He had no desire to end up lost in the forest when night fell. So instead of scavenging more, he let the genes go. All in all, he had gained more than anything anyone could have hoped to.

Primitive genes: 21 of 100

Awakened genes: 13 of 100

Advanced genes: 8 of 100

With a heavy bag and shoulders newly strengthened to carry it, John left the forest behind. He traipsed across the fields for the next several hours, miraculously avoiding any further trouble. When the sun began to sink, Emerald Base finally came into view. John nearly wept at the sight. Bruised and weary, he stumbled up to the gate. The doors opened of their own accord to welcome him, and he walked into the base.

5

“Name?” The guard asked when the gate was safely closed behind him.

“John Greene,” he said numbly.

“Says here your group left four days ago. Are you returning early?”

John didn’t know how returning after four days could be considered early, but he shook his head to indicate that he was not the first of a larger group to arrive. Seeing the trauma in John’s eyes, the guard’s own eyes widened.

“You’re the only one who survived?” He asked. His eyes seemed to only then notice the stained blood on him that was only partially covered by a layer of dust and dirt.

“Climbed a tree,” John said absently.

He just wanted to go home and never come back again. He wanted to see his mom and sister. More than that, he wished he could hear his father tell him how proud he was that John had survived. Some things were beyond the ability of an idle wish, however.

The guard made a note of who was lost on the expedition before waving John onward. He moved through the wide street with a hollow mind. Absently, he found the side street that his room lived on and turned down it.

Soon, John was standing on his teleport pad. He pressed the return button and felt his body vibrate once more. In another second or two, he was standing at the station on Earth. With growing exhaustion, John asked the Kumani representative to call for a public transport back to his house.

“John!” His mother exclaimed before he could even fully get the door open.

“You’re back! I was starting to worry about you,” she said in a relieved tone. Her eyes didn’t miss the gore that covered his clothes and face.

John’s lips lifted into a small smile despite himself. His mother was an overly anxious person. So, if she said she was “starting to worry” it probably meant she had spent the last three days biting her nails and staring out the window.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he responded distantly.

Emily noticed the look in his eye and became worried. She immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and made him meet her eye. She spoke softly but firmly.

“What happened?”

“Joined a hunting party,” he said weakly.

“Stags? His mother asked.

He nodded. He wasn’t surprised that she had guessed. She too had joined an excursion to hunt the beasts on her first trip. She was familiar with the group.

“What happened?” She asked again.

“They’re all dead mom,” said John shakily.

“The team killed all of the stags? That’s impossible.”

“No. Not the stags,” John said in a whisper.

Emily widened her eyes as she processed what he was saying. John could see the realization flood her face as it turned from confusion to horror. She looked back at John with wide eyes, unwilling to ask for a third time what had happened.

“It was horrible. They all ran wild until this massive deer with giant antlers came along.”

So John told his mom and sister what had happened. They listened in rapt horror at what he had witnessed. When he finished talking they both held him tight and wept.

John himself did not cry. He knew it would happen soon. For now however, he was still in shock. So, he gently pushed away from his family and pulled his bag from his back.

“Here,” he said, handing the bag to his mother.

“What is this?” She asked.

“It’s for you. I was able to collect a few things on my way back. Take them and become stronger. What you can’t make use of can be stored for Emma when she turns sixteen.”

“John what are you talking…” his mother trailed off as she unzipped the bag to find all the mixed genes he collected from the dead beasts. Her eyes widened once more.

“John how did you…” she trailed off again.

“Like I said, it was terrible.”

Then John went up to his room and shut the door.