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Voltsmith [LitRPG Apocalypse]
Two: Things Are Going Wrong For Me

Two: Things Are Going Wrong For Me

As I looked around, I realized that I wasn’t standing in a subway tunnel. The walls weren’t tile or concrete, for one thing. They looked like they’d been hacked out of the stone around them with a pickaxe—or scraped clean by a giant armored snake. For another, the light was way too uniform, and I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. After looking for an answer, I decided the light was coming from everywhere and nowhere. That explained my missing shadow, at least.

My headache had gotten worse, and I could barely think; even so, I started talking through it all. “Okay. There’s a three-hundred-foot snake in the subway. That’s something out of Men in Black, right? Or was that a worm? But this one’s different. It was using a train as armor. The text said that fighting it’s impossible right now, so let’s not worry about it yet.

“One problem at a time.”

Before I could think about the gigantic dungeon boss, I had to find Tori. She’d been on the train with me, and then, just like everyone else, she was gone. I’d jumped into this Hardcore Tutorial to keep her alive, so until I found her, nothing else mattered. I knew she was here somewhere—her name had appeared on that message.

But where to start? I was halfway back to Chicago Station before I realized what I was doing—autopilot. I had to start thinking through this puzzle, or Tori would be in trouble. I breathed deep to steady my mind, slowed down, and started using my brain.

The Consortium, or whatever had stuck us in here, wanted us separated. That had to be part of what made this dungeon hardcore. I’d keep moving south, from Chicago to Grand to Lake, until I ran into someone. And then…

And then, I’d do whatever it took to figure out how to kill the Redline Wyrm.

That had to happen. According to those messages, I had to kill it and the Tunnel Lord—and I was willing to bet that the giant snake guarded the way out. If I wanted to get Tori and me out of here, it had to die.

I didn’t see a way to kill it yet, but we had time—almost three days. I could solve anything in three days.

The Red Line usually took almost an hour to get to my stop. Even if the Redline Wyrm was moving twice as fast, I figured it’d take it over twenty minutes or more to get to the end of the line, turn around, and get back here. That’d be enough time to walk to the next station. I put on a little speed, though, just in case.

As I hurried down the tunnel, I kept my ears perked for any sign of the Redline Wyrm’s return, but all I could hear was the near-constant sound of wind blowing down the tunnel and right into my face. The lights were out, but I could still see the sparking third rail on the ground below them and the freshly shredded, scraped tunnel walls in the faint, uniform light.

Was that part of the dungeon? I almost couldn’t believe this was happening. An hour ago, I’d been fixing the Ford Explorer. Was it still on the jack at Cindy’s Automotive? Did Cindy’s even exist anymore? My heart sank as I thought about it. Terraforming—what had the Consortium changed?

What hadn’t they changed?

I tried to puzzle through that as they walked, and before long, Chicago Station appeared, a bright space in the semi-darkness ahead.

The tunnel opened wide up ahead into a cavern a football field’s length and half its width. The rough walls were covered in cave art, but as I stared at it, I realized what I was looking at—terraformed posters and advertisements. Those stalagmites? They were right where the turnstiles had been—turnstileagmites, I thought—and a pair of cave entrances loomed where the bathroom doors had once stood.

“This is weird. Really weird,” I muttered. I crept forward. It was definitely the Chicago station, exactly the same one I’d just left on the train, but irreversibly changed. And I could smell smoke.

Smoke meant something was alive—or that something was on fire. If they were alive and friendly, maybe they’d help me find Tori. If not, I wanted them gone. If it was a fire, I’d deal with that when I saw it.

I hadn’t been much of a hunter. Some of the other guys back in Cozad went every fall, but Dad had too much to do on the farm. I knew the basics, though: light on your feet, don’t look right at the target, move slowly and calmly. I ducked through the turnstile stalagmites and saw movement.

The movement saw me, too.

It wasn’t more than half my height and maybe a third of my two hundred and five pounds. Its body looked like an impossibly thin man’s, but its head looked exactly like the rat I’d seen disappearing into the subway tunnel. It was covered in mangy-looking fur and, other than that, completely naked, and it glared and chittered at me as it pulled a crude, stone-tipped spear back for a thrust.

Rat Man: Level Three Monster

“What the hell?!”

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The spear punched into the meaty part of my left forearm, and I yelled in agony and jerked back away from my attacker. My arm felt like it was on fire. I screamed again as the Rat Man readied another thrust. This was a problem.

I’d fought a little, of course. Most boys in Cozad had. But I’d never done any boxing or wrestling. Nothing formal. So, as the Rat Man stabbed again, I did the one thing I knew how to do.

I grabbed the haft, one hand inside the Rat Man’s claws and one outside them, and pushed. A surge of pain ripped up my arm to my shoulder, and I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood. The rough stone spear-tip scraped against the tunnel wall behind me. Sparks lit up the Rat Man’s face for a second; a sore on its snout oozed pus inches from my face.

Its shoulder slammed into my chest, and something crunched in my pocket. My music player! Had this asshole broken my iPod? It was a piece of crap, but I’d had it for fifteen years!

I choked down fury as I turned my attention from the spear tip to the Rat Man himself; I needed to stay focused, not lose my shit, but the thought of never hearing Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Rolling Stones again was almost unbearable.

I was bigger than the monster. I had to be stronger, too. I’d rarely been the stronger fighter when the other boys stick wrestled, so I’d learned ways to compensate. But right now? Right now, I could overpower my opponent.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

I jerked the spear left, then right, forcing the Rat Man off its feet. Then I slammed the spear shaft down as the monster flailed through the air. It hit the ground a second later. A squeal of pain filled the subway cave, but the damn thing clung to the shaft.

Then, it bit me right in my left arm.

I shoved my arm into the Rat Man’s mouth, pushing it in. I’d used that trick on the farm. Most animals didn’t expect their prey to move further in, and they usually let go.

The Rat Man did, and I punched it in the face. A sucker punch like that should have stunned it, but its jaws snapped shut inches from my wrist. I pulled back, dragging the fight back toward the stone benches.

I couldn’t keep this up forever, and the monster ripped at the spear with both clawed hands. It put its feet into my chest and pushed. It was all I could do to hang on, and I had to get my hurt left hand on the spear to do even that. I kneed it in the thigh. The damn thing wouldn’t let go, even when its head smacked against the concrete with a wet thud and left a red splatter behind.

This thing was tougher than it had any right to be! I couldn’t just overpower it like I’d thought. Strength against strength, we were probably matched.

I needed leverage.

That was the solution. It was like popping a stuck lug nut for a tire rotation.

I slammed the Rat Man into a turnstile stalagmite. Then I twisted my body and pulled my arms in opposite directions. The spear levered around. It scraped the floor, and I threw my weight into the Rat Man.

Its claws popped free from the spear.

I spun it around and jammed the tip into the monster’s chest. It hissed, a rattling sound filling its throat as pink foam pushed between its teeth. Then it went still.

I’d won. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and my injuries burned, but something else filled my chest. Pride. I’d solved the problem. I’d won the fight. I tore the sleeve off my work jumpsuit and wrapped it tightly around my bicep, hissing in pain and gritting my teeth as I tied it tight.

Then I turned to stare at the fallen Rat Man.

It had vanished. Not even its blood remained; my work coveralls looked like I’d just left the shop instead of like I’d been fighting for my life. In the monster’s place was a small glowing orb, yellowish-green in color, that slowly drifted toward me. I tried to stand up and get away from it, but before I could, it touched my chest.

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Congratulations! You’ve leveled up by killing your first dungeon monster and unlocked your status menu. Monsters live both inside of dungeons and in [Earth’s] overworld. They don’t exist for one purpose: improving System users like you, [Hal Riley].

As a reward for your victory, you have reached Level One. You have been awarded two Stat Points to spend on the following three stats in whatever way you choose: Body, Awareness, and Mana. Your stat layout and actions during the Hardcore Tutorial will determine your class options for Phase One, so your choices will inform your future!

Body: Every point spent on Body improves your physical strength, speed, and toughness by a small amount.

Awareness: Awareness improves your perception, intuition, and reflexes by a small amount. Additionally, your self-control will increase slightly.

Mana: Mana governs the power behind your magic, including casting spells, learning new ones, and your resistance to magical effects.

Choose wisely!

Before I could question what the box of text meant by stat points, the text disappeared and replaced itself. This time, it wasn’t a description. If anything, it looked a lot closer to the objective list I’d seen earlier.

[Hal Riley] [Class - N/A] [Level - 1]

[Stats]

►Body - 7

►Awareness - 7

►Mana - 3

Stat Points Available: 2

[Class Skill - N/A]

There was a lot to unpack here. According to the System, my strengths were Body and Awareness. That made a lot of sense. My work as a mechanic had been physically demanding, but once Cindy realized I had the best problem-solving mind on her staff, she’d started giving me the problems no one else could figure out. I had a knack for noticing things, too; I’d seen Tori’s panicked expression on the train and figured out what was wrong with her.

But I had just fought a Rat Man, and I’d come out of it injured but victorious. A level-three Rat Man, but still—I couldn’t fight like that every time. Maybe if I’d been stronger or tougher, I wouldn’t be hurt right now. But really, the problem was that I’d walked right into an ambush.

Had I just not been paying enough attention? Or was it that my Awareness wasn’t high enough to notice the monster and react to it in time? I wasn’t sure. Either way, if I’d had access to some magic—which, apparently, this Tutorial did—the Rat Man probably never would have gotten in range to stab me in the first place.

And I had another consideration. If I got too hurt, Tori wouldn’t be able to take care of me even if I did find her. I had to keep myself together, both for myself and for her. That meant I couldn’t risk getting caught out like that.

All three had advantages. Body would give me the strength and toughness to survive fights, while Awareness could give me the skill to avoid the ones I couldn’t win. And as for Mana? A few spells could shift whole fights, right?

I thought about putting both points in Awareness, then confirmed that was what I wanted. The stat ticked up to nine, and a moment later, a new message popped up, replacing my status menu.

To call up your status menu, think ‘Status’ and confirm. You may do this any time you are out of combat.

The earbuds were totally destroyed; they’d shattered, and I could see the wiring inside them. The iPod’s screen was busted, too. Part of me wanted to throw them away; they wouldn’t help me in his new world. Another, angrier part wanted to kill every Rat Man in the dungeon as retribution.

In the end, I tucked them back into my pocket, careful not to lose any parts. Maybe someday, I’d be able to fix them.

I turned and started walking back toward the station’s platform—as far away from the two bathroom caves as possible. I needed to take a second to think. As I did, I discovered a problem I couldn’t do much about right now. Even if leveling was the way to survive and keep us both safe, my levels were only half of the problem.

Hopefully, Tori was powering up, too.

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This whole mess reminded Tori of the time she and her friends had gone to Tammy’s place last summer. Her parents hadn’t been home, and all four of them had been curious, so they sat on the couch, turned on some vintage The Used on Tammy’s laptop, and ‘partied’ for a few hours while Helen—prudish, straight-edged, no-drugs-or-booze-but-I’ll-watch-you-do-them Helen—made sure everyone stayed safe.

They’d only tried that once. So far.

This? It felt exactly like that—out of control and impossible to figure out. Everything about it was seriously screwed up. Mom—Jessica—was missing. Everyone was missing—except, apparently, that mechanic and some guy named Calvin. She bit back a nasty comment about herself—picking Hardcore was something she always did in her games, but this wasn’t a game. It couldn’t be a game.

This felt way too real, even for her VR set-up.

Something was in the station with her.

Rat Man: Level Three Monster

“What kind of horror game shit is this?” she whispered under her breath as the Rat Man sniffed at the air and meandered toward her hiding spot. She’d ducked behind the ticket kiosk, but that wouldn’t work for long as a hiding spot. Especially not if the Rat Man could smell her.

She resisted the urge to check her pits. No. She’d be okay. She’d be okay.

This was just like avoiding the Clickers in that one game.

The sniffing stopped. The Rat Man’s face turned toward her, and she pulled back behind the wall.

Too late.

This was way, way worse than getting drunk on Tammy’s parents’ fake leather couch. She reached for a length of pipe. It was heavier than the softball bats she’d swung around in middle school—that was good, right? Heavier was good.

Then she took a deep, loud breath, readied the pipe to swing, and pushed herself out of her hiding place.