Black water crashed through the door but I was already on the roof, looking for a place to jump as the powerlines fell spitting and snarling in the water. I saw a car sliding past sideways, flipping and tumbling in the murky water. It reeked. Sulphur and sewage and something I didn’t recognize, all tumbling down the mountains and crushing our little valley town. There must be something, somewhere! Some high ground to get to.

A streetlight fell against a broken tree, the knot snarling around the ruins of my house and stretching across most of the flooded street. It wasn’t remotely safe or sturdy, but neither was my house even before the flood. I didn’t wait. It was a desperate scramble across the roof, and then I had to hang off the roof with one hand and grab the tree with the other. I never was that strong. My fingers were slowly losing their grip, even as the asphalt shingles bit into them.

I didn’t have gutters. The landlord said they were too much trouble to clean, and he ‘wasn’t worried about flooding.’”

My hand slipped, but I managed to snag the branch. I held on, swinging around, trying to get my leg up and over the tree trunk.The branch snapped. I fell in the black waters. There was a minute of helpless tumbling, then something smashed my head and it all ended.

The reassuring painted skeleton face greeted me when my eyes opened. “And how was your nightmare? If it has ended.” There was a hint of a throaty chuckle there, which is a neat trick for someone without a throat.

“Kind of nostalgic, actually. I never lived anywhere like that, but it did kind of feel like home.”

Jackie exhaled a cloud of green smoke from her long cigarette. I’m still no closer to explaining that, any more than I can explain how her tiny hat could stay on her head without glue. Hell, maybe it was glue. Or just part of her head. That wouldn’t be the craziest thing. My Awakened couldn’t take their hats off unless they replaced them with pieces of armor provided by the Tower.

“You feel a nostalgia for a place you have never been?”

“Well, the buildings looked like the kind of buildings I would recognize, the vehicles were… pretty similar, though I couldn’t read any manufacturer’s names, now that I think about it. Power lines, utility poles, all very similar.”

“Ah, familiar, yet incorrect. And the more you try to pin down the details, the blurrier and more indistinct they become. Something of a nightmare classic.” She smiled. I mean, she always smiled, but this time it seemed like a smile smile.

“It is, isn’t it. Still. A nice little reminder of home, even if it looked like some godforsaken Appalachian hole. Or the Ozarks, or some other place that’s equal parts meth and misery.”

“Is meth a drug?”

“Yep.”

There was a sudden twisting and a sense of wrongness and-

The reassuring painted skeletal face greeted me when my eyes opened. “And how was your nightmare? If it has ended.” There was a hint of a throaty chuckle there, which is a neat trick for someone without a throat.

“Kind of nostalgic, actually. I never lived anywhere like that, but it did kind of feel like home.”

I was having a hard time shaking off the dream today. It felt kind of tacky, like I was still moving dream-slow through the world.

Jackie exhaled a cloud of green smoke from her long cigarette. I’m still no closer to explaining that, any more than I can explain how her tiny hat could stay on her head without glue. Hell, maybe it was glue. Or just part of her head. That wouldn’t be the craziest thing. My Awakened couldn’t take their hats off unless they replaced them with pieces of armor provided by the Tower.

“You feel a nostalgia for a place you have never been?”

“Well, the buildings looked like the kind of buildings I would recognize, the vehicles were… pretty similar, though I couldn’t read any manufacturer’s names, now that I think about it. Power lines, utility poles, all very similar.”

I shook my head. I think the dream was still hanging on. I was having the most uncanny feeling.

“Ah, familiar, yet incorrect,” The painted talking skeleton that probably accounted for the uncanny feeling said. “And the more you try to pin down the details, the blurrier and more indistinct they become. Something of a nightmare classic.” She smiled. I mean, she always smiled, but this time it seemed like a smile smile.

“It is, isn’t it. Still. A nice little reminder of home, even if it looked like some godforsaken Appalachian hole. Or the Ozarks, or some other place that’s equally unhappy. I am having the weirdest deja vu right now.”

“What is deja vu? A drug?” Jackie asked. Her voice sounded a little odd.

“What? No. It’s the feeling that you have seen something before, even though you couldn’t possibly have.”

“Oh. Lucky you.”

“How is that lucky?”

“It’s another nightmare cliche. Locked in an endless loop, trapped by rules you cannot understand for a purpose that seems no deeper than making you suffer for the amusement of unknowable, but vile, gods.”

I kind of got stuck, hung up on what she just said. “Damn Jackie, you might be scarier than the nightmares.”

“Oh how kind of you to notice.” She purred. The skeleton purred. Yep, that unreality was kicking in hard now. Yeah, time to put a pin in this one, I think. “So how much did I earn? I think I had a pretty good run that time.”

“I’m curious too. How much wisdom did you gain?”

I checked my pouch. “Oh hey, that’s really not bad! I cleared sixty fragments. That takes me to one ten.”

“Would you like to visit the stele?”

“And buy a whopping whole resource pack? I’ll pass. Things start getting interesting after the first comma.”

“It’s not quite that bad.” Jackie murmured.

“True, true, but… c’mon. Flensing Ray. Flensing Ray versus practically anything is an absolute walk-over. It’s a bot match. It’s Baki in a straight hands competition against Azumanga Daioh. It’s not even a fight, is what I’m trying to say here.”

“What’s Baki?” Jackie gave me an odd look. Odder look, odd was her normal.

“Has anyone ever told you about the power of imagination?”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“No.”

I floundered. The next sentence I had in mind really relied on her saying yes, and now I had to think fast. “Well,” I said, with the mein of Churchill at his finest, or at least the shame-face of a kid having to explain that weird smell in his room. “He was someone who was very very strong and very good at fighting with his bare hands, though not remotely the strongest person in the world his story was set in.”

“Ah. And imagination had something to do with that?” Jackie asked.

“Yes. Don’t ask me to explain how, it just worked. It’s just a story.”

“Who was the strongest?”

“His dad.”

“Was he good at imagining things too?” She watched the greed smoke spiral up into the goom.

“He was.”

“Maybe there is something to it then.”

I smiled and shook my head. They had a good imagination, but they also trained like Goku. There was never any question that their power came from physical strength and practiced skill. In Hanma Yujiro’s case, it also came from a sense of sheer bloody minded fun. Emphasis on bloody. The circumstances of Baki’s conception were… Shakespearean. Olympian, even. Bordering on Pharaonic.

“Maybe. You keeping well?”

“Pardon?”

“While I’m not around. You doing okay, Jackie?”

There was a long pause. “Yes?”

“That sounded like a question.”

“I’m a being created purely to fulfill this particular role. I know it. I’m content with it. I have no wants or needs. I believe most beings would find my state intensely enviable. I do not, and cannot, suffer from nightmares. But I am not doing. I am.”

Huh. Well. Isn’t that interesting.

“Be seeing you Jackie.”

Troop selection was a tricky issue. I’m pretty sure Ko’Ras had at least one, and possibly several, Dyn Hunelf grade monsters present. They hand N number of actual monsters, as well as Y number of brainwashed, terrified fanatical troops fighting as much in terror of their hideous masters as much as a genuine desire for conquest.

We had to be thinking about mobility, endurance in the field, burst killing power, and an ability to create widespread havoc. Now, Mrs. Hungry gave me healing, support and melee, but only if I killed a certain number of people first. Conversely, my medics only gave me healing. And they were slow, and fragile. But there was a question I had always wanted to know the answer to.

“Maria, can you give your suicide capsule to anyone, or only other awakened.”

“Hmm?” She had beautiful eyes. Shame about the burns covering her neck and the side of her face. She should have grown up to be a raving beauty.

“Can you give you suicide pills to monsters?”

“Um. Um. Um. Only if they are super badly hurt.”

I grunted. Interesting. A very broad “valid target” range for the ability.

“What about throwing them in, picking an example completely at random here, a well?”

“Maria cannot do that.” There was a robotic crispness to her voice which strongly suggested that the exploit had been discovered and patched a long time ago.

I sighed. “Alright. Rache, Rikka, Miyuki, Versai and Mrs. Hungry. Goddess what a lineup. You are with me. Next stop, Ko’Ros. Othai, anything else you can tell me about them? For example, what is their closest settlement?”

“If where we were is the raider’s homeland, the only big city near there is Waset. Which was an independent city state. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Ah. Ahahah. Got it, got it. Nothing for Othai in the relationship shop today either. Still a useful bit of lore there. I’m betting it was another city that had “accepted Genuda’s benevolent leadership” in the past. Maybe they found a better deal, or thought they had.

“Noted. Launch expedition!”

We were back next to the beach. I could hear the raiders on the far side of the dune. Louder, now. Probably more of them. We snuck off, and I sent in Rikka to scout.

“Five hundred now, my Lord, with barrels of meat and water. They have set up rows of tents too.”

“On the beach itself?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

That did not compute. The beach is sandy. The beach has no fresh water. The beach is exposed to the wind and rain. Camping here would be hard. There are empty villages nearby. So why gather here? I tried to imagine the geography of the place. It finally clicked.

“That’s grim. They set up camp here because it’s the furthest point they could reach from Waset. Alright, we aren’t going to get cute with these guys, at least for now. Rache, scout us a nice quiet path to Waset. Rikka, keep an eye on our immediate surroundings. Miyuki, you are the close in danger-spotter. If something gets past our scouts, pin it. If it looks like it’s going to raise an alarm, kill it. Understood?

I got a chorus of barks back- “As my Lord commands! Yes Boss!” I waved them into action. “Versai, Mrs. Hungry, you stick with me.”

We raced out of the dunes and headed inland. My first impression of this place had been pretty shallow. Kind of empty, kind of bland. I took a closer look this time. It looked green and grassy, mostly, but I noticed rocks popping out of the grass on a pretty regular basis. It wasn’t neat, manicured lawns or anything, just wild grass and other little plants I couldn’t name.

Fescue? Is that a real word? Is it a relevant word? I don’t know. I think it’s a grass-word. But where the hell did I hear it? I pulled out my knife and started digging. I got about eight inches before I started running into rock. Lots of grass, but shorter than the reeds and things growing by the dunes. Shorter than you would expect from real wild grass. We are near villages, but I don’t see many farms. Or… really any farms.

“Where are the sheep?”

“Pardon, Tower Master?” Versai glanced at me.

“Or the cows, or goats or whatever. Where are the animals?”

“If they killed almost all the people and drove out the few survivors, I can’t imagine they spared the livestock, my Lord. Perhaps they enjoy feasting.” Mrs. Hungry smiled at the thought.

I didn’t share her warm emotions. I know damn well the kinds of parties they enjoy. I read Berserk.

“Always important to know the lore. Let's keep it moving.”

The villages did have little gardens attached to the huts. Vast by New York standards, but after seeing the farmland around Verton, it looked very poor. Plenty of pens and chicken coops. Some spots that still stank so bad I had to assume they were the legendary pig styes. Heard about them all my life, and today is the day when I finally saw them in person. Amazing. I, too, would insult a child by comparing their room to this muddy, reeking, excrement sodden abomination.

Goddess forbid I ever have kids. It wasn’t just my dedication to 2-D life. It’s just… I make good money, I live in a rich city, I’m the crazy one in my family, I have no inherited diseases that I know about… and I still wouldn’t damn a child by bringing them into the world. It’s just too brutal. Too corrupt. Too many monsters.

Rache led us on to small trails winding between villages. It took longer to move on than following the main road, but it was safer. Less chance of being jumped by an army too big to manage. Over short hills and rocky slopes, across small, bitterly cold streams, then back into the rough grass.

Very few trees, I noticed. Not even many tree stumps. What were they using for fuel? Peat? Where do you get peat from? Actually, I’m not really sure what peat is either. I just know they burn it to make Scotch and it’s something people dig up.

Could they be importing coal or charcoal? Surely not- raiders wouldn’t have a steady income. Hard to reliably pay for imports. Maybe they bought fuel from Waset. It would make them a lot easier to control for the city dwellers.

I kept trying to wring clues from the environment. A dual relic site existed for a reason. There was something about this particular place that was worth preserving, and I flat out refuse to believe the entire city of Waset was preserved here if only a tiny fragment of Verton was kept. The land itself, this rocky, crappy ground, was significant.

I just had to figure out why.

You get peat from bogs, right? I feel like I know about peat bogs. Was it… in the Lord of the Rings? I don’t think that’s quite right. Oh damn, I know I heard about it somewhere. They pulled bodies out of them all the time. Like, really old bodies. Viking era. Was it in Vinland Saga?

Rache came riding up. “Not many more good places to move quietly, Boss. The land flattens out, and we got all kinds of little villages and things around the city. Pretty open country.”

“Are there people living in the village?”

“Couldn’t say for sure, Boss.” She looked uncomfortable. “I’m not really sure what all was going on in them places.”

“Living or not-living is… usually pretty straightforward, Rache.” A second later the irony hit me, but I didn’t get distracted. I wanted answers.

“Well. There are things that look like people. But they don’t move like people. Mostly don’t move at all. Just kind of stand there. Some under porches and eaves and things kinda sway?”

“Like zombies or like scarecrows?”

“Huh? Sorry Boss.”

And here we are again, running straight back into the limitations of her star level. GOD I wish I could upgrade star ratings. I’d run Rache all the way to Six Stars if I could, just to have more thorough scouting reports.

“Rikka, investigate one of the villages. Make sure you aren’t detected, but try to figure out just what is going on with the villagers.”

I couldn’t see Rikka. She probably wasn’t within a mile. But since I was moving with them, this probably didn’t count as an ‘order.’ I loaded up the expedition with some extra orders before we left. Just in case we needed them. I had Rache lead us over to where Rikka was exploring. Rikka emerged from the shadow behind a rock, though this time I think I just barely spotted her moving around. The ground really was that flat.

“Reporting to my Lord- everyone in the village is dead. However, they are still present.”

“Elaborate.”

“I… cannot. I find myself in the same situation as Sister Rache. I don’t have words for what was done here. It is… safe. At the very least, the villagers pose no threat.”

We crept into the village. Well, I crept. Everyone else believed the scouts and walked boldly forward. I’m glad I did. I’m glad I stayed at the back. I wish I hadn’t gone into the village at all. Because once I saw the first body, once I got close enough to see what had happened, I knew I wasn’t going to be right ever again. It wasn’t something you could see and just… be okay later.

The villagers had been skinned. Skinned, stuffed with straw, and then the skin was stitched back together crudely. Some kind of crude tanning had been done, but it was rough. The faces were already rotting. Insects lived in the straw, entering and leaving the holes in the skin sacks.

The straw-filled sacks were then shoved into their owners clothes and set in the village. Some hanging from roofs, but most held up on sticks. They were posed. Like figurines. They were playing out village scenes. Chatting to each other. Sitting together on a bench. Waving at each other.

There was no reason to it. No use to it. All it did was exist to hurt people. Just knowing about it hurt. It was a curse on humanity. It was a weakening blow. Trying to make you helpless, so that you couldn’t resist the horrors to come. A little preview of your hell.

“Just kill yourself. Just end it. There is nothing here. No food to eat. No fire to warm you. No people to comfort you. Every good thing you think you remember was a lie. All there is, is barren, rocky soil, and the promise of a horrible death.” I could hear the whispers of the monsters. It was in the wind pushing the bodies around on their strings, and in the silence of the houses.