CHAPTER 5 – DAY ONE

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We walked out of the shrine and transported in a colorful flash to arrive amidst a thinned forest. As my recognition of our environment occurred, the first thing I actively noticed was it was almost dark.

The second thing I noticed was that we appeared under the tree exactly where I had first arrived on or in this game world. I immediately recognized the slight slope of the hill and twisted trunks in the grove we had originally appeared in right before I stabbed Destiny in her horned head and fanged mouth. With as much time as I have spent in various wilderness environments, I read the woods like most folks read street signs. We were deep in an elder grove of olive trees, their trunks massive and gnarled. There was a limited amount of underbrush as this area had clearly been, in some not too distant past, under managed cultivation but had been returned to the wild control of nature.

The third was the bright flashes as my companions also transported in. I wasn't too keen on that flashing shit. Not a tactical means of movement at all. Of course, it wasn’t like transporting into a tactical environment was how movement-to-contact would occur. So I mentally moved on.

The fourth thing I noticed was that the body of the Destiny beast was not there. I performed a very quick area search, more than a ‘glancing-around-just-eye-fucking-the-area’ type of search, but not quite as vigorous as whipping out a magnifying glass to examine the bent blades of grass like Sherlock Holmes. Somewhere on the low end of that spectrum. Still, enough to see no blood spoor or evidence of the earlier action.

As I paused to consider this, the final thing I noticed was how very hungry and very thirsty I was. And tired. Exhausted even.

I checked my character screen and saw three blinking debuff indicators in the upper left. Food and drink and sleep, if I understood the icons correctly. Glancing at my attributes, I saw a -2 on Strength and a -3 on Intelligence. I wasn’t sure, but it seemed as if there was a slight change in the color shade on the kinetics and battle shaping thingamajig nobody knew anything about.

I quickly performed an analysis of our current situation.

Number one. Effectively unknown terrain away from our immediate surroundings, no idea where we are, where Syra is, how far, what direction, whether we could expect a straight up welcome or some other shit.

Number two. We have been made aware of hostiles operating in the area, specifically, at or near Syra or its immediate environs.

Number three. We knew the Destiny Beast had been here and was now gone. Maybe carried off by giant wolves. Maybe something else. Whatever. Unknown at this time.

Number four. We were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted.

Number five. Probably should be considered number one, actually. I had a unit I had never fought with, using weapons and combat techniques I know they aren’t actually comfortable with, and magic, about which I knew dick.

Oriented, observed, and a decision made. Time to act.

I looked at my three fellow adventurers and said, “Here’s the FRAGO. We don’t know the area, I expect we have exposure here but would be more so if we went on toward Syra. We need to displace, establish security, hydrate, grab chow, develop a plan of action, and rack out in that order.”

DeSantos had been nodding along almost from the get-go of my little speech and immediately started gathering himself to execute. Just as I was finished, within a single syllable, Bonita and Delight started talking.

“I feel we should try to get there right away.”

“I’m not that hungry if everybody wants to keep going, and I’m not interested in sleepin’ outside. At all.”

“Nor am I. What if there are snakes?”

“I bet there are tons of spiders out here. I stayed at my cousin's house near Lafayette once …”

I was a tiny bit shocked. To tell you the truth, I was sort of stunned into silence. Yeah, no shit. My universe shatters, I’m sent through time and space, or some freaktastic hell zone, into a world of living a video game, and my mental equilibrium isn’t excessively affected. But let two chicks, with no combat time, no understanding of working threats, no knowledge of operating in a tactical hellhole, no fucking clue about troop maintenance, no legit, real-deal, combat operations experience in high threat environments in unfamiliar terrain, let them just open their fucking pie-holes so their ignorance about a topic can just start spewing out as if they had any right to an opinion on the subject I was addressing and my brain went into vapor lock.

Whew. Talk about a run-on sentence. Sorry Mrs. McAlister, I know better.

For about ten seconds I was just shocked into silence.

And, I have no doubt some people are reading this right now who are ready to close the book on my ‘filthy, hateful, misogynistic, male-centric, patriarchal, blah, blah, blah, blow me.’

It doesn’t have anything to do with their gender. My diatribe, and I’ll admit that is exactly what it is, had everything to do with my inability to accept that two otherwise intelligent and apparently reasonable people felt they had anything to add. Or that their opinions on the topic, based entirely on ignorance, had any value and should not only be shared by them but considered as valid and worthwhile by me. The most senior of only two experts present. Neither of which was either of them.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It was as if I was a fucking brain surgeon about to start cutting into somebody’s skull and the damned janitor rolls up into the surgical suite with a mop and starts offering me pointers. After all, he’s a hospital employee as well, and watches doctor shows on television.

I mean, really?

Or if I’m a senior nuclear reactor technician about to do a startup sequence using radioactive material that could poison the earth for thousands of years and kill thousands of people, and the mailroom clerk comes in and wants to start pushing buttons. After all, he works at the nuclear power plant, too, and saw all the operating manuals stacked for delivery back in his work area, so his opinion is just as valid.

Shit like that pisses me off.

So, no. I don’t hate and despise women, or think they are somehow lesser than men. Hell, in many cases I find them superior. Just as I find men superior in many cases. I value the diversity. Just not right now.

What I think is if a person has an expert giving them his opinion or direction, they should be grateful for the opportunity and shut the fuck up. Absorb the lessons being provided, not freebase stupidity and blow their smoke in my fucking face.

Although, maybe I was overreacting. The young ladies were only civilians and didn’t truly understand how real life worked outside of their advanced civilized backgrounds.

They were as oblivious to their breach of decorum and common military courtesy as they were to my noticeable fury. If watching DeSantos’ expression as he looked at my face told me anything, it was that my being pissed off was hugely obvious. I took a moment to calm down.

I smiled and interrupted their blathering stream of consciousness convo.

I took a page from many leaders I had served under, most of which I had admired and learned from, and spoke calmly, clearly, and decisively. Maybe more condescendingly and sarcastically as necessary, but, hey, I was ... sort of lacking a decent reason. Basically, I was being 'Rick with a silent P'.

As tactfully as I could, I said, “Hey, ladies. Here’s the thing. I’m not operating a democracy right now. Probably never will, in fact. So, what I was providing wasn’t my uninformed opinion of what I feeeeel we should do. The words you heard me say earlier are what we in the military call orders. They aren't really what you would consider suggestions or ideas open for consideration and debate. Those are directions about what will occur, the order of occurrence, and in most cases, the why. That’s really all it was.”

The looks I received then would be considered unhappy glares. Maybe shocked and insulted, if I had to really work in some refined expansion of their demeanor.

I nodded toward DeSantos. I went for a more placating tone.

“See? DeSantos is already geared up to go do what we need to do. Trust me when I say, with every assurance I can give, that I know what we need to do in this circumstance and that we will work on improving overall efficiencies later.”

Taking advantage of the deathly silence following my statement, I turned to DeSantos and said, “Corporal, you’re on point. Leadoff and find us a spot within a hundred meters or so. I want concealment for sure, cover if possible. Good to go?”

He nodded his understanding and replied, “Sir.”

As he promptly turned and began maneuvering through the light brush, I followed closely. I wasn’t worried about grenades or IEDs at this point. I mainly needed to set the standard for immediate execution for the two civilians with us.

I glanced back and saw them standing rooted in uncertainty.

“Come on. Follow me.”

Ω

Destiny awoke as her malformed body flashed into existence. She looked around, not in terror as one might expect, but with an unnatural calm that had been emplaced and enforced by her respawn. She could remember the pain of that bastard Rick’s spear piercing her, but that was all, just an echo of the event. As she began to regain her mental equilibrium, the only pain she felt, if anything, was the pain of betrayal.

She saw it all, laid out in her mind like a grocery list of hate. Her sister had betrayed her. Rick West had betrayed her. Her parents had betrayed her. The universe itself had betrayed her. She had gone from the beloved and beautiful daughter of a captain of industry, an American princess with access to her family’s vast wealth, to a stabbed-to-death monster in a realm of mystery and uncertainty.

She thought, ‘I can deal with this. Whatever it is, I’m strong enough to handle it all. And as of the rest … okay, betrayers, payback is a bitch.’

Her memories were starkly brief and uncomplicated. She had been engaged in playing around with her despised idiot sister and a marginally cute guy, though a cripple, when she’d suffered incredible pain, then been turned into a monster and stabbed instantly to death.

For some unknown period of time, she had experienced her murder over and over and over again, repeatedly feeling the agony, pain and terror of her last few seconds of existence.

And now, she was here.

Destiny gazed around her with a touch of muted curiosity.

Unusually for her, nothing was clicking for her. From being a rich young woman with the world as her oyster, she found herself remade as a monster in a hole in the ground. She recognized nothing. She knew nothing about her circumstances. She examined her hands with disgust and wondered silently, ‘What in the hell is going on? Where am I? What am I doing here? Why do I look like this?’

In a moment of frustration, she shouted with the same angry and demanding tone she used on her family’s maids, butler, and other staff, “Can I get some fucking help, here? Somebody to answer some damned questions? Anybody? Anybody at all?”

Destiny was somehow sure she was underground. It appeared almost as if she was in a cave or a cavern of some sort, but the stone had been partially dressed. There were slightly worn carvings visible in the flickering golden light cast from guttering torches ensconced at various locations and heights across the three walls she could see. As she lay still after her outburst and examined the figures etched into the rock, she decided their rich beauty was almost like a tapestry. The walls were a series of panels that told a story.

The side where there wasn’t a wall, she could tell was a long, dark hallway from which the faintest breeze of humid air could be felt as it caressed her naked flesh. Her long pointed ears picked up a barely audible sound.

Click then something dragging. Click, drag. Click, drag.

Instead of the cold grip of terror upon her heart, she felt the warmth of comfort.

When she first heard the sibilant whispers echoing from the stone chamber, her fanged mouth took on a strange and twisted smile.

“Welcome Princessss. Welcome home Princessss. Welcome to Dark Haven my Princessss.”

As she reclined against the stone upon which were engraved scenes of men and women being tortured in ways most obscene and cruel, she relaxed. She felt at home, here in her haven in the dark.