All was a black abyss, a void that swallowed dreams and nightmare alike, a place that existed nowhere.
Vic’s eyes were closed.
He remembered when the guy stabbed him.
He recalled that the syringe filled up with his blood.
Vic also remembered how when the guy pushed the blood out of it, it released a red haze which come over him healing him and more importantly, calming his frantic state. Vic specifically remembered that as the red mist poured over him, a slight scent that reminded him of the sterile conditions of a hospital graced his nostrils, like the caress of some forbidden secret.
Very nostaligic.
It lasted only for a moment and then the guy brought him a carpet to lie on and just like that Vic fell asleep in the same room, still rough and bloody.
Vic wasn’t asleep anymore.
He could particularly feel the eyelids covering his eyes and he paticularly had the urge to open them, but he resisted. In addition, when he really focused he could feel a slight tension around his arm where the a bandage must’ve been applied. It felt kind of itchy, yet a heavenly improvement from all the burning inferno he was previously, and thus aside from a soreness from his back (from which Vic could suspect was a result of sleeping on such a hard surface) Vic felt great... yeah great.
The silence of the room and Vic’s own half-sleepy thoughts were broken by the sound of a door opening with its underrated accompaniment of the momentary sound of harsh rain; that gave indication of the state that existed outside.
He heard words but in his partial consciousness, for a second, the sound was completely such of some alien speech pattern, blending into some endless sea of characters that Vic couldn't see, but that only lasted for a second.
“Hey Aerick, I’m assuming you took the girl to the Village hall ” said a gruff voice sitting a few feet from Vic, Vic decided it was an old guy.
“yeah, they got her washed up and clothed alright, think she said her name was Proi as well “said a voice apparently called Aerick getting louder as it came into the room.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, they got her all ready and cleaned and all then they gave her a bucket”
Vic heard a stony old chuckle “She must’ve loved our hospitality then, heh”
“Hah! Aye, took it like a champ though.” said Aerick and Vic thought he heard a tsk.
“but just no though, I told them to lay off, and I was like we don’t know what she’s been through to be left stranded like that” Aerick added
“Hmmm… she could’ve been a criminal, an exile from her tribe... an outcast ” there was a bit of a pause after that, that was stretched like uncomfortably like tight leather shoes, the ones that you really needed to replace, or just throw away; almost akward.
“Well if so, setting her out in the wild like that alone and without any treasures would be a death sentence-“
Vic could no longer stop his eyes from fluttering open and ad he sat up abruptly interrupting the conversation he asked “Where is the toilet?”
Both men looked at him and for a second Cuttison looked Vic so intently in the eyes it was as if he was trying to appraise why Vic had even woke up.
Cuttison promptly replied “It’s right behind the house and backward”
Vic got up, ignoring the conversation as it continued. Lying next to him was his gun, Cutt’s cloak, his school shoes and his shredded shirt. Vic decided to leave the shirt there, he wasn’t bothered to put the filthy thing on, instead opting to wrap his bare skin with the cloak, but he ended up not needing to.
“Ah, you’d probably need a shirt” Well, it seemed that is Aerick guy could still be the fair bit considerate even after healing him.
The guy went to another room, coming back with a clean linen shirt.
A bit thin on the whole and too loose on him, thought Vic as walked towards the door, shaking his loose sleeves; over all though, it was a decent shirt.
Vic paused in front of the door, at the boundary. He could hear the sound of rain pouring wrath outside and he felt cold creeping like wretched fingers, scratching at him through the gaps in the door. Vic kind of really didn’t want to go.
But he always did.
He managed to go out, trying not to flinch as a chilling breeze slammed into him. The rain was solid but that was expected and due to the addition of a proper shirt Vic was able to wrap the cloak in a way that made sort of a hood for him. Though it didn’t stop the injection bandage on his shoulder from getting wet and Vic tearing it off, revealing a small crimson point that was already healing, and itching.
Vic walked around the house, allowing him to see the spectacle. Stretched out not far behind the house was a massive lake. In fact, in the low visibility Vic couldn’t see the end of the millions of ripples appearing on the lake’s surface. Although perhaps the lake was swelling a bit too big as Vic saw a house further along nearly touching the body of water.
The houses in the village were arranged in rough rows, with many houses breaking up that pattern and blocking the otherwise pathway through the centre of the town. Vic supposed it was a small community, which meant people here were close to each other- but that also meant he was an outsider.
Seeing the enormous body of water, for a second Vic thought that’s where Cuttison expected him to go, but in the distance away from the lake Vic thought he spied a hut shaped brown blip.
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It was far, Vic was tired, it probably smelt like shit.
Vic didn’t even need to go in the first place anyways.
Walking about in the not-so-good weather, Vic tried to gather as much information as he could about the village. Well, he did gain plenty of sparce knowledge, except for maybe the fact that the wood the houses were made of weren’t very consistent or that the soil in the surroundings were so saturated with rainwater that some of the blades of grass looked like they were wilting; Vic didn’t think this was very useful information.
Is that house made from palm wood? Not very practical.
At that point Vic was walking through village pretty blaise, he tried to be subtle but in the end such measure were not very effective and he passed by a few people. Walking by with clay and wood buckets, the people he crossed stared at him intently as if he was some rare cut of meat and he felt the one guy he had just past was just an inch away from having their eyes pop out after seeing Vic’s gun; Vic ignored them.
Ok, this was useless, whilst I have at least I’ve confirmed my mind is not playing tricks on me. What does it actually mean, though, if everyone here is of a different race…
Vic had enough walking around and he felt if he were to carry on loitering around this place he would get stopped. So, he stopped and turned around.
Perhaps the natives of this ‘Otherworld’ don’t inherit features from their parent and instead their features are randomized. It doesn’t make sense but what of what I have seen actually does?
When Vic got back to the house, he was virtually soaked, something that no longer bothered Vic at this point, although Vic did wonder if that syringe could heal a cold. He knocked on the door.
Perhaps it is the result of extensive interconnectedness- kinda like in the place I was in before… but I don’t see neither planes flying nor cars driving around here.
There was no answer from the door, yet Vic could somewhat hear talking inside.
He opened the door- there was no lock. Going inside slowly, Vic closed the door behind him, shutting off the chaotic and uncontrollable elements that existed outside from the orderly ecosystem that was, inside.
“…If it’s so bad you need to understand, we need to move on. You saw these stragglers, their settlements were destroyed so will this settlement, we've been here for far too long, we need to head west”
Vic heard shouting.
“Fucking hell Cutt, this is our home, some of ours have been born here. I remember when we used to keep moving too, you-“
Vic entered the room that was aflame in argumentation, the water dripping from his hair threatening to burn in the scalding atmostphere. Aerick stopped and glanced at him as he quietly went and sat down on the carpet he had slept on but otherwise ignored him.
Yes... order.
Cuttison kept talking “I know all the fields were washed dead by the rain and the crops have been destroyed and…and what's next. Fine I’ll destroy the rain dungeon alright like I always do but the dungeons are getting stronger, so what then huh, Aerick? I can’t keep going. We need to go.”
Aerick looked at Cuttison, hard, and an almost indignant flame beset his dark pupils.
He spoke with an unfeeling candour.
“You don’t have the authority to say what anybody in this Village does anymore, do you Cuttison ”
“…”
Cutt’s face froze and the fury drained from him like a drain unplugged revealing the tired expression that Vic had so much of seen earlier. For a brief second, silence stole the dark room leaving only three people in it, the only source of light coming from a murky window displaying the storms playing outside.
After a the moment ended Cutt stood up and started talking his voice taking on much of the same sort of tone yet somehow failed to belay any sort of emotion. “I’m sorry for that Aerick."
"hmm I’ll just go” Cuttison realyed his dialogue with the other man concluding.
Cutt looked at Vic who was just sitting there, listening. “Boy, the item you’re clinging to is the item that you used to kill that monster, right?”
After seeing Vic nod Cutt continued. “Show it to me outside” then he just went outside while Aerick just sat there. Vic didn't know what expression Aerick had on his face, he didn't look.
----------------------------------------
Vic looked at Cutt, he was standing behind the house looking at the clouds pouring on him, or that was at least what Vic thought. Cuttison’s back was to him as he stood there.
Cuttison turned around. “Tell me its treasure interface”
Vic focused on the gun in his right hand till he felt a forecful tug in his mind…
Treasure Interface Item: Gun Cooldowns:
(Shoot)0:0:0:0:000
Abilities: Shoot Shoot
Shoots a bullet in direction aimed by the sight.
Each activation consumes 1 shell
Maxiumum of 12 shells
All shells are refreshed after a 18 minute cooldown
[Ability can be manually activated via depression of trigger]
…and Vic relayed the contents of the blue screen in front of him.
“wait can you repeat the last thing you said”
“uh, 'Ability can be manually activated via depression of trigger'”
Cuttison looked thoughtful. “Pass me the Gun”
Vic threw it.
He saw Cuttison then take the gun aiming it at the dirt some distance from him. His arm was fully extended yet completely static when the bullet hit in a straight line from the barrel: it seemed Cuttison was a better shot than Vic.
"hmm, good power, more recoil than expected, but very long cooldown.
Cuttison didn’t throw it back.
Ok don't throw it back then
“Come on” Cuttison called out, he was already walking back inside.
Inside, Aerick was still sitting down but he upon seeing the entrance of Cutt he stood up. “Cutt, you gonna give me the boy?”
“hmm, yeah take him to the Village Hall”
They both glared at him, so he walked.
Vic became acutely aware about how he was flanked by the men and as he slowly creeped to the other side of the room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being sent as some sort of peace offering. As if opposing some esoteric force called himself, Vic drew another tiny step, unsure, he supposed that was enough as Aerick and Cuttison were already locked eyes in a deadly stare off that ended in Cuttison jarringly exiting the building.
Once again silence showed its familiar face.
Standing there Vic addressed Aerick for the first time. “where is he going”
Aerick was looking hard at the door or perhaps somewhere beyond it “to destroy the rain dungeon core presumably, that man, Cuttison, he’s our Village’s dungeon hunter”
Aerick turned around to take a seat “ you should stay away from him”
But Vic didn’t hear him.
Vic had already started to feel vulnerable without the pistol, he was bitter that Cutt took it.
‘The dungeon hunter’ did that mean he would go around killing monsters?
“Hey, what are you doing”
Maybe if I followed him I could learn more about this ‘Otherworld’. That misty being that called them here wanted a grand treasure. He didn’t think he could find that whilst bucketing water. Maybe he could only find treasure in a dungeon? That ‘Grand Treasure’ is my only way home.
A water droplet hit Vic’s face.
But that fear I felt when I was attacked. That was real. It is so strong I still feel it now.
However it was too late Vic was already sprinting. As if to spite all his fear, he swung his arms furiously as he tried too catch up with a figure in the rain.
Maybe I am running to my death but if there is death over there, I'd rather be running towards it.
No, that was wrong Vic was not running, no, he couldn’t, it wasn’t him, he was just too fucking scared, so much so that he felt nauseous; it was like he had a knife slicing through his body.
No.
He was not running, he was possessed. Possessed by a spirit that would do anything just to get back home, the spirit that was created when he came here; the spirit that wanted him to run.
He caught up.
“Take me with you and also give me back my gun”