The Stony Jigger

Granite City

K

yle’s head swayed as he leaned back, a grin stretching across his face. The room felt warm and cozy, the beer humming pleasantly in his veins. He had not had this much fun in nearly two years. He was sitting on a bar stool in their regular joint, The Stoney Jigger.

The dive bar was tucked into an alleyway just off fifteenth street. A passerby would miss it if they did not know it was there. Decked out in a retro-style, or maybe it was just never renovated, it always gave the crew a fun and secure place to unwind after slinging groceries for eight to ten hours.

Another mug of beer slid down the bar and stopped in front of Kyle. He looked up drunkenly and smiled. "Derrick, I don't think I can drink another. Thanks though."

Derrick, the tall barkeep, leaned across the bar. His semi-casual uniform hugged his well-muscled frame—a silent warning that he could be dangerous, though his easygoing demeanor kept him approachable.

"Sure, you can, man. I haven’t seen you in over a year. Are you going to tell me hitting thirty did you in?" Derrick chuckled.

"Challenge accepted." Kyle cheered and clinked his mug into Marvin's, the only crew member still there.

"Geez boss, he's right. You've lost your tolerance. What have you been doing for the last year?" Martin teased Kyle.

"Cassie worked here. It was too awkward." Kyle said flatly.

"You know I fired her over you, right?" Derrick said, handwashing a glass like all bartenders seemed to do.

"What? I didn't know that." Martin gasped dramatically.

"I tried to avoid that by not coming in. What happened?" Kyle inquired, his fun mood evaporating. He really had wanted to avoid the breakup drama. As he was the one who ended things, he did not want to cause Cassie more pain by infiltrating her work environment.

"She started telling blatant lies about you. I had known you long enough to catch many of them. After I asked her about it and told her to stop, she continued anyway. I gave her one more warning and she didn't listen. I don't tolerate that behavior in my bar." Derrick's tone had spiked into anger near the end.

"What did she say?" Kyle asked. He was not sure he wanted to know but part of him was burning. He had to know.

"There's too many to remember them all, but let me just ask you this. Did you ask her to roleplay as an underaged boy?"

Martin jumped to his feet, his mug tipping over and spilling beer everywhere. "What? I never heard that. That bitch really said that? Kyle would never!"

Martin's words killed all the anger Kyle was building. Despite his intoxication, he was able to let it all flow away. He shook his head, looking only sad.

"No way, Derrick. Maybe an Elf girl, or something along those lines. Never any age difference though. I prefer older women anyway. Damn, just the thought is making me sick." Kyle shuddered, looking as sick as he felt.

After he was able to get control of his stomach, he looked up at Derrick. The bartender was nodding.

"Just as I expected. There are a few others that I already knew were lies, or suspected they were." The bartender placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder across the bar. "I'm sorry she said anything in my bar and I want you to know I stopped it."

Kyle patted Derrick's arm and the bartender pulled it back. Kyle smiled and nodded. "I'm just sorry she feels she has to do that. She must have been hurt pretty badly." He took a long drink off his beer and set it down, leaving his hand on the handle. "You know, I should be pissed and worried, but I'm not. That might change when I'm sober, but for now, I understand. She wasn't expecting it to go like that."

"What happened?" Martin asked bluntly. He was the biggest gossip at the store, so Kyle would not be surprised if the man knew everything already.

"She..." Kyle wanted to say this exactly right, because it was not anything she did and he did not want to stoop to her level. "Honestly, it was because it wasn't working. The relationship didn't feel...right. You know?" He drank some more, thinking. "I figured I wanted it to end then instead of a month from now, or later. Dragging it out wouldn’t help. It would only serve to hurt both of us more."

"Oh." Both Derrick and Martin said together. Martin sounded disappointed, like he hooked a fish only to pull up a boot. Derrick was still nodding, his "oh" one of understanding.

"Yeah. I felt bad for her, but I will not have that behavior here. I'm glad I could tell you. It means no one really listened to her." Derrick said.

"No one around here would believe it." A third voice added. Jose, the morning server, set a tray of snacks in front of Martin. He must have been leaving, because he had his college book bag slung over one arm. "We've known you and the crew for years. We made sure that talk stopped at the door. Can't say what she said outside of here, but I think it was seeing your crew that sparked it. She couldn't handle the memories."

"Thanks, Jose. That means a lot." Kyle felt warm inside, and not only from the beer. The server nodded and left, waving to everyone on his way out.

"Now, let's wash out the bad with some good. Tell me more about this Juliana." Derrick said, pushing the tray to Kyle before Martin polished off the last bit then resting his arms on the bar to listen.

Kyle felt his face burn as he remembered her from earlier in the morning.

"Well...she walked up to me one day while I was facing the end cap on three. I recognized her from her live stream."

****

The early afternoon light was bright, making Kyle put his hand above his eyes for shade. His drunk was still floating pleasantly in the back of his head, but the food and chat made him feel better. He was not sure why he had isolated himself for so long, but he was not going to do so anymore.

Kyle sighed and turned down another street. Only a few more blocks and he would be home. He was ready to stream some series and take a nap before hitting his weekly chore list.

Kyle stepped up to the corner, waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green. His vision flashed an odd rainbow of colors for the span of a blink. When everything cleared up, he blinked rapidly for a moment, unsure as to what exactly happened.

What made Kyle focus again was the rat across the street. It had creeped out of the sewer drain, which was odd for that time of day. After the light show, the rat had collapsed and began to twitch. It started screaming and thrashing. The rat's flesh began to ripple and expand like a grotesque puddle. Then it fell back down the drain in its violent thrashing.

Kyle blinked rapidly again and once the light changed, he ran across the street. He tried peaking down the drain but could not see or hear anything odd. He straightened and staggered to the nearest wall, leaning against it.

"Damn. How drunk am I?" He mumbled to himself. There is no way that was real, right? It had to be his mind playing pranks on him. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that clouded his thoughts. Was this just the alcohol playing tricks on him? His heart raced as he tried to dismiss the strange vision, but the growing panic in his chest made it impossible.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Kyle took multiple deep breaths. After he felt stable again, he started walking once more. Then he panicked and fell onto the sidewalk on his butt.

In front of his face, about as far away as he would hold his smartphone, a small text box appeared. The text was black and the background was just opaque enough that the words were not lost in shadows.

Kyle waved his fingers in front of him. They passed through the box but it did not disappear. He began to hyperventilate before forcing himself to read the words.

WELCOME TO THE SYSTEM!

The [Manaetheric Stream] has branched off, swallowing your galaxy whole. Congratulations! Magic has arrived.

To prevent the wild evolution that Mana brings with it, the [System] will regulate the [Manaetheric Cycle] and aid all sentient beings.

Next

Kyle blinked and focused his attention on the words reading over them again. Then he looked at "next". He was about to reach out and touch the word to see what would happen. His thoughts of I wonder what's next were faster and the text changed in response.

The [System] needs twenty-five of your hours to initialize and stabilize the Mana density, [Node] Spawns, and [Monster] growth.

You must survive that long.

You have been granted a [Quest]. As the objective is to survive, you cannot decline this [Quest].

Quest Description

The window changed on its own when Kyle reached the bottom and focused on the words "Quest Description".

Quest Survive Objective Survive for 25 hours Rank None Rarity Very Common Difficulty Very High Description You must survive for 25 hours while the [System] finishes initializing. Reward 1 [Mana Stone]. 1 [Skill Orb]. Knowledge of Nearest [Safe Zone].

Okay

Kyle's eyes widened when he read that the difficulty was "Very High". Once he focused on the Ok button, the window disappeared. No matter what he thought or did, it would not reappear. All that was left was a timer counting down in his vision. He could get that to disappear and reappear at will however.

"This is either the best trip I've ever had, or I'm in trouble." He tried touching the numbers again one more time but could not feel anything. He disabled the countdown, making the numbers vanish. "Maybe both."

Kyle started to panic again, but stood and began stumbling home once more. He was not drunk enough to think he was sober, but he was thinking more clearly than before.

It was not long before he made it to his apartment complex. He had to stop and gawk at the entire line of cars parked in the middle of the road just outside the building. People were popping hoods and hitting their steering wheels in frustration.

Kyle slipped past them and into the complex. It was a square building that had two stories with an inner courtyard. Each side of the building had eight apartments, four on each floor. There were twenty-four units all together. Half of the doors were on the outside of the building while the other half were on the inside, ringing a courtyard. They were secure units. Not top of the line nor were they bottom of the barrel.

Kyle climbed the stairs on the western inner wall. Stopping at 209, he fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the deadbolt and knob.

Kyle turned the knob to open his apartment door when, suddenly, a heavy weight crashed into him, knocking him off his feet. He landed hard on his back, pain shooting through his arm as he instinctively threw it up to protect himself. A low growl filled the air, and Kyle's eyes widened in horror.

A Chihuahua, now grotesquely oversized like a Mastiff, had its jaws locked onto his forearm, blood pouring onto his face from the deep puncture wounds. The dog’s eyes, blood-red and filled with fury, bore into Kyle's as it snarled, shaking its head violently.

Kyle screamed and thrashed, desperately trying to dislodge the crazed animal, but the Chihuahua’s grip was relentless. Just as Kyle feared he would not be able to free himself, the pressure on his arm suddenly released.

Gunther, Kyle’s loyal Rottweiler, had burst through the door, tackling the massive Chihuahua with all his strength. The two dogs tumbled over the railing, crashing down a full story to the ground below, with Gunther on top. Kyle scrambled to his feet, heart racing, and grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the front door.

He took the steps down three at a time, fear, and adrenaline coursing through his veins. When he reached the bottom, he saw Gunther struggling, pinned beneath the monstrous Chihuahua. There was no time to waste. Kyle gripped the bat with both hands, his vision narrowing as he swung with all his might.

The bat connected with a sickening thud, sending the Chihuahua staggering sideways with a pained yelp. Kyle’s head spun, the world tilting as he fought to stay on his feet, but he could not afford to hesitate. The Chihuahua was already recovering, snarling viciously as it prepared to lunge at Gunther again.

Kyle did not think—he acted. He swung the bat once more, catching the beast mid-leap. There was a sharp crack as the bat struck bone, and the Chihuahua crumpled to the ground, motionless.

Breathing heavily, Kyle raised the bat and brought it down again and again, each strike fueled by raw survival instinct until the creature lay still, blood pooling beneath its mangled body.

Panting, Kyle wiped the sweat and blood from his brow, his hands shaking as he looked down at Gunther. The Rottweiler was injured, a deep cut along his neck, but he wagged his tail weakly, his eyes fixed on Kyle with trust and relief.

Kyle knelt beside him, his voice soft and shaky as he checked Gunther over. “Are you okay, boy? Let me see... Easy now, let me look.” The bites were not deep, but Kyle knew he had to clean them immediately. Gently, he lifted Gunther into his arms and hurried back upstairs, ignoring the chaos outside. Other than the door, everything else was in its place. Even Lily, his brown striped Tabby. Her chunky butt was sprawled on the couch in her favorite spot.

Thankfully, Gunther let Kyle wash the gashes thoroughly. He was not as worried about them now, but he would not gamble with animal bites. Especially a crazed animal like that.

"That had to be Ms. Leavitt's dog, but I thought she had a tea cup Chihuahua." Kyle said to Gunther who only tipped his head to the side.

"It was, and it was. I'm not sure what happened."

An elderly woman was looking a Kyle through the hole that used to be his door. Mrs. Barkley, the landlord and owner of the complex, stood there, her arms crossed.

Kyle did his best to not roll his eyes, but he failed miserably.