Chapter 8
1099—
Somewhere in Rivens—
Krista’s eyes fluttered open, pain radiating through every inch of her body. Her vision was hazy, but she could make out the dark, twisted shapes of trees above her.
The air was thick, heavy with the stench of decay. The ground beneath her felt damp and cold, and the sound of distant roars sent a chill down her spine.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Three moons hung in the sky, their colors—blue, green, and red—casting an eerie glow over the rotting forest.
Krista groaned, trying to push herself up. Her head throbbed, and her body ached, but something else gnawed at her—a deep sense of wrongness.
As her vision cleared, she realized the Subaru was nearby, battered but intact, half-buried in the thick underbrush, with Olivia still seated in the passenger seat, still unconscious.
Krista took a look at the alien world around her.
“What the fuck?”
Krista’s head throbbed as she stirred awake, her ears ringing. The world was a spinning blur of orange-purple light filtering through the cracked and broken windshield of the flipped Subaru. Smoke wafted from the crumpled hood, and the acrid stench of leaking gasoline filled the air.
She blinked hard, her vision unfocused, her right eye burning from a gash caused by shattered glass.
She groaned, her body a symphony of pain—her head pounding, her ribs aching, and her right thigh screaming with a fiery agony where the bullet had struck earlier.
Coughing weakly, Krista forced herself to move, her trembling hand fumbling for the seatbelt. The mechanism was jammed, and after several desperate tugs, she gave up and instead twisted her body toward the door.
Her foot weakly kicked at it. Once. Twice. On the third attempt, the damaged door groaned open, its hinges creaking. Glass fragments tinkled to the ground, glinting in the dying light.
Krista collapsed halfway out of the car, her cheek pressing against the dirt, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Get it together,” she muttered through gritted teeth, forcing herself onto her elbows.
Her hand instinctively clutched at her bleeding thigh, and she dragged herself toward the back of the wrecked vehicle, ignoring the shards of glass that bit into her palms.
With a strained grunt, she reached the back seat and yanked the duffle bag out, her fingers trembling as she unzipped it. She dug through its contents with frantic urgency, pulling out a basic medkit and a pair of tweezers.
Slumping against the car’s dented frame, she took a small flashlight from the bag, gripping it between her teeth. The beam illuminated her bloodied leg as she pulled up her torn jeans to expose the wound.
“This is going to suck balls,” she hissed, positioning the tweezers over the entry point.
Her hands shook as she pressed the metal tips into the jagged flesh, biting down hard on the flashlight to stifle a scream.
Every movement sent waves of searing pain through her body, but she persisted, her breaths coming in short, sharp bursts. After what felt like an eternity, the tweezers clinked against something hard—the bullet.
Her face twisted in agony as she extracted the metal slug, a strangled cry escaping her lips. She flung the bloodied bullet aside and grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the medkit, unscrewing it with shaking hands.
Pouring the liquid over the wound, she let out an anguished scream that echoed through the desolate forest. Tears streamed down her face as she hastily wrapped the wound with a bandage, her breathing shallow and ragged.
“Done,” she whispered hoarsely, leaning her head back against the car door. “Fucking Hollywood—I thought that it wouldn’t be that painful. Damn Rambo movies…”
Her reprieve was short-lived. She turned toward the passenger seat, where Olivia lay unconscious, her head slumped against the side window, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead.
Krista bit her lip, swallowing her pain. She crawled into the car and used her knife to cut through Olivia’s seatbelt.
Gently, she pulled her sister free from the wreckage, cradling her limp body with a tenderness that belied her exhaustion.
Krista tied Olivia’s backpack and her own duffle bag securely around her sister’s belt, ensuring nothing would fall as she carried her.
Then, Krista adjusted her grip, carefully hoisting Olivia onto her back. Pain lanced through her wounded thigh, nearly causing her to collapse, but she steadied herself with sheer determination.
With her free hand, she reached for the TAR-21 assault rifle from her duffle bag, checking its safety before clutching it tightly. She cast a final glance at the flipped Subaru, smoke curling from its shattered frame.
“Useless now,” she muttered under her breath, turning her back on the wreck.
The forest stretched before her, bathed in the eerie orange-purple glow of Rivens’ daylight. The air was heavy and alien, filled with unfamiliar sounds.
She tightened her grip on the rifle, her senses on high alert as she began her arduous trek.
Step by agonizing step, she moved forward, Olivia’s weight a constant reminder of what was at stake.
“Hang in there, Liv,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “We’ll find help. I promise.”
Behind her, the wrecked Subaru stood as a silent monument to their sudden and violent arrival in a world far more hostile than they could have imagined.
Krista trudged through the dense forest, every step a grueling ordeal as the weight of Olivia on her back pressed against her injured thigh.
The air around her was thick with a damp, rotting smell that made her stomach churn. The orange-purple daylight filtering through the trees cast eerie, shifting shadows that danced at the edges of her vision.
Then she heard it.
A sound, guttural and piercing, tore through the silence of the woods. It wasn’t human—it wasn’t even animal. It sounded like the inhuman growl of a guttural vocalist, Mitch Lucker, but warped, as though agony itself had been given a voice.
The noise came from all directions, growing louder, closing in on her.
“What the hell…?” she muttered, her heart pounding as she scanned the forest with wide, panicked eyes.
Her instincts screamed danger. She forced herself toward a fallen tree, its massive, hollow trunk offering a precarious bit of cover.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she lowered Olivia gently into the bark. Her sister’s unconscious form was unnervingly still, but Krista couldn’t afford to worry about that now.
She flicked the safety off her TAR-21, pulling the charging handle with a sharp, metallic click. The rifle felt heavier in her hands than usual, her body weakened by exhaustion and injury.
From the treeline ahead, the underbrush shook violently before something emerged.
A figure stepped out—no, lumbered out—into the clearing. The thing was huge, at least eight feet tall, clad in jagged, blackened armor that looked like it had been forged in the pits of hell.
A longsword, almost as long as Krista herself, hung loosely in its clawed hand. Its face was obscured beneath a horned helmet, but glowing red eyes pierced through the shadowed slits, locking onto her.
“What the actual fuck?!” Krista gasped, her voice shaking.
Her body moved on instinct. She raised the rifle and squeezed the trigger.
The TAR-21 roared to life, spitting out a stream of bullets that tore into the demon knight’s chest and face.
The thing staggered back with a guttural snarl, its crimson blood spraying into the air like a burst pipe. The noxious smell hit Krista immediately—a stomach-churning combination of sulfur, rot, and burnt meat.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The knight collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
Krista stood frozen, her breath hitching. “What the hell is that thing?!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the woods.
Her confusion was short-lived. The guttural screaming she had heard earlier grew louder, and the underbrush around her shook again.
More of them.
Three. Five. Ten.
Demon knights poured out from the forest, their obsidian blades gleaming in the alien daylight.
“Oh, come the fuck on!” Krista yelled in frustration, opening fire again.
She aimed for their heads, dropping one, two, three of them in quick succession. Her rifle bucked against her shoulder, the barrel spitting fire as empty casings scattered at her feet.
Click.
Out of ammo.
“Shit!” she hissed, slamming herself against the fallen tree. Her hands worked furiously to reload, sliding a fresh magazine into the rifle and pulling the charging handle.
She fired again, but they just kept coming.
One of the knights broke through her barrage, charging at her with its blade raised.
Krista didn’t have time to think. She dropped the rifle and reached into her hoodie, pulling out her wakizashi.
The blade gleamed wickedly in the dim light as she ducked under the knight’s swing, rolling forward and slashing at its legs.
The knight roared in pain, collapsing to one knee. Krista didn’t hesitate. She spun behind it, driving the blade into its exposed throat and dragging it across.
Hot blood sprayed from the wound, splattering her hands and arms. She cried out as the searing liquid burned her skin, blistering on contact.
“Fuck! Shit!” she screamed, stumbling back, clutching her injured hand.
The knight collapsed, its lifeless body joining the growing pile of corpses.
Krista scrambled to her rifle, her burnt hand trembling as she reloaded another magazine. She rose to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain, and fired off the remaining rounds, taking down the rest of the approaching knights.
Finally, the forest fell silent, save for her own ragged breathing.
The clearing was littered with corpses—blackened, monstrous figures that looked almost humanoid but weren’t. Their armor glistened with poisonous blood, the stench of decay and feces hanging heavy in the air.
Krista slumped to her knees, staring at the carnage with a mix of horror and confusion.
“What the fuck are these things?” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “They’re… humanoid. But bigger. And blacker. And they smell like—” She gagged. “—like rotting corpses and shit stains.”
She glanced at her blistered hands, the pain still fresh and raw.
“This can’t be real,” she muttered. “This can’t be real.”
But the blood, the corpses, the burns—all of it was painfully real.
Krista turned back toward Olivia, her resolve hardening. Whatever these things were, they weren’t going to stop her. She had to find shelter, answers, and a way to survive in this nightmarish new world.
The moonless sky above Rivens offered no solace, its dark expanse pressing down like a suffocating weight. The faint orange-purple hue of daylight had long since faded, replaced by an oppressive blackness.
Krista stumbled into the half-open cave, her legs trembling with exhaustion. After hours of trudging through hostile terrain with Olivia on her back, every muscle in her body screamed for relief.
The cave was a shallow alcove carved into the side of a rocky hill, just large enough for the two of them to lie down.
Krista carefully laid Olivia on the smoothest patch of ground she could find, unfastening the bags tied around her sister’s waist and placing them nearby.
Her head throbbed, her stomach churned, and her blistered hands throbbed with a dull ache, but rest was a luxury she couldn’t afford yet.
“Stay put,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Need fire… Need wood…”
Krista wandered through the dense forest outside the cave, the faint glow of distant stars barely illuminating her way. She moved on autopilot, her body fueled purely by stubborn resolve.
Eventually, she came across a small stream, its gentle babbling a rare comfort in the hostile wilderness. She knelt by the water’s edge, scooping a handful of the cool liquid to her parched lips.
The moment it hit her tongue, she gagged. The water tasted foul—like metal and rot—but her desperation pushed her to swallow.
Her stomach rebelled instantly.
She doubled over, coughing violently as the water came back up in a vile gush. Pain shot through her abdomen like a hot knife twisting in her gut.
“Goddamn it!” she choked, clutching her stomach. It felt as if her insides were on fire, every nerve screaming in protest.
She stumbled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and turned toward the cave. Whatever was in the water, it wasn’t drinkable.
Krista dumped the bundle of dry wood she’d gathered onto the cave floor, her movements jerky and mechanical.
She worked quickly, striking her lighter until the spark caught on the kindling. Flames licked upward, casting flickering shadows against the cave walls.
The warmth was a small comfort as she slumped against the rock wall, exhaustion and pain threatening to overwhelm her.
She forced herself to check on Olivia. Her breathing was steady, her chest rising and falling in a reassuring rhythm. Krista adjusted the bandage on Olivia’s head, her fingers trembling.
Olivia stirred slightly, her eyelids fluttering open. “Krista…?” she murmured, her voice weak and groggy.
Krista’s heart clenched with relief. “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”
Olivia blinked slowly, her gaze darting around the dim cave. “Where… Where are we? Why are we in a cave?”
Krista grimaced, clutching her still-burning stomach. “Not… Earth anymore,” she said through gritted teeth. Her voice was hoarse, each word a struggle.
Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. “What…?” She tried to sit up, but Krista gently pressed her back down.
“Don’t,” Krista said. “Rest. You’re… hurt.”
Olivia’s gaze fell to Krista’s blistered hands, her brows knitting in concern.
“Your hands… What happened to your hands?”
Krista glanced at her inflamed skin, the angry red blisters throbbing with each pulse of her heart.
“Doesn’t matter,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Not now.”
Olivia frowned but didn’t press further, her exhaustion overtaking her curiosity. She let her head fall back onto the makeshift pillow Krista had arranged for her.
Krista leaned back against the cave wall, her body wracked with pain and exhaustion. She clutched her stomach, the burning sensation still gnawing at her insides.
“Rest, Liv,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “Just… rest…”
Her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering shut as the weight of the day finally dragged her into a restless sleep. The firelight danced across the cave, holding the darkness at bay, if only for a little while.
The fire in the cave had dwindled to embers, its flickering light casting faint shadows on the jagged walls.
Krista slept soundly, her body finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the day. Her rifle rested beside her, a 1911 pistol tucked just within reach.
Olivia, however, couldn’t find peace. She stared at the uneven ceiling of the cave, her thoughts swirling in a maelstrom of guilt and self-loathing.
If it wasn’t for me… she thought bitterly. If I wasn’t such a burden, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
She shifted slightly, her paralyzed legs refusing to respond, a harsh reminder of her condition. Krista had been carrying her, figuratively and literally, for years. Before their parents died. Before this strange new world. And now, Krista had to be her everything: her defender, her caretaker, her lifeline.
Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes. I can’t do anything. All I’m good for is talking to a chatroom and playing games. What use is that here?
Her gaze fell on Krista’s pistol, its black finish gleaming faintly in the firelight. A dark thought crept into her mind, unbidden and relentless.
If I wasn’t here, she’d be free. She wouldn’t have to carry me anymore.
Olivia hesitated, her hand trembling as she reached for the weapon. She grasped it, the metal cold against her skin. She turned it over in her hands, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her thumb moved to the safety, flicking it off with a soft click. Then, with shaking hands, she pulled the slide, chambering a round.
The sound was faint, but to Krista, it was unmistakable. Her eyes snapped open, her instincts honed by years of living on edge.
In an instant, she was up, grabbing the pistol from Olivia’s hands. “What the fuck are you doing?!” she shouted, her voice echoing harshly in the confined space.
Olivia froze, tears streaming down her face. Her lips trembled as she tried to form words, but all that came out was a choked sob.
“Answer me!” Krista demanded, her voice a mix of anger and panic. “What the hell were you thinking?!”
“I’m sorry!” Olivia wailed, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry! I just… I just…” She broke down completely, burying her face in her hands.
Krista knelt down in front of her, the pistol still clenched in her hand. “You just what? You were going to kill yourself?!”
Olivia nodded through her sobs, her voice barely audible. “I’m dead weight, sis. You’d be better off without me. I can’t do anything. I can’t even walk. I just make everything harder for you.”
Krista’s expression hardened. “Dead weight? Dead weight?! You think this makes it easier for me?!”
Olivia flinched, her tears slowing as she looked up at her sister in shock.
Krista’s voice cracked as she continued, her frustration pouring out. “You don’t think I already know how hard this is? You don’t think I know how much I have to do to keep us alive? But you—” Her voice faltered for a moment before regaining its edge. “You don’t get to just check out and leave me to deal with everything alone!”
Olivia’s eyes widened, her voice trembling. “I-I just wanted to help—”
“Help?” Krista interrupted, her voice rising. “You think killing yourself is helping? You think I want to carry this burden alone? Goddamn it, Olivia, you’re supposed to be smarter than this!”
Krista’s words hit like a slap, and Olivia recoiled as if physically struck. “I… I’m sorry…” she whispered, her voice hollow.
Krista sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Just… don’t. Don’t do this again. You can’t undo what’s happened. Neither of us can.” She hesitated, then muttered, “Just… don’t be useless. If you want to help, then think about how hard it is to be me.”
Olivia’s breath hitched, her hands trembling. “Useless…” she repeated, the word cutting deeper than any blade.
She turned away from Krista, lying down with her back to her sister.
“I hate you,” she whispered, her voice filled with hurt.
Krista froze, the weight of Olivia’s words hanging in the air. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no words came.
Instead, she slumped back against the cave wall, exhaustion and regret clouding her thoughts. The fire continued to crackle softly as she closed her eyes, willing herself to forget the moment.
Behind her, Olivia lay awake, silent tears streaming down her face as she whispered to herself, “I hate you… but I hate myself more.”