I was nine, well, only kind of, I was actually twenty eight, -what I mean to say, is it had been only about a year since my being reincarnated into the body of Shepard.
I was born and raised in America, although I might have loved watching anime. I didn't actually know how to speak anything except English. and I wasn't given the ability to understand any language as my 'golden finger'. at the time, I eventually came to the conclusion that I had no sort of super power to help me...
after the rest of her eighth year, about half of a year waiting for some kind of cheat, of not even really trying to live. I gave up mostly and stopped trying to summon it regularly.
the next year, the ninth year of Shepard's life, of my life, I used that year more productively. since I couldn't speak, couldn't even understand the written stuff, my schedule was split between three pastimes;
trying to learn how to read and understand their language through osmosis, trying to learn how to use magic, and trying to not get caught as I continued stealing to survive.
It was after my first solstice. I wasn't ready. I thought it was already the worst of winter, and that the three months would be over soon. I did not know, then, that what I had experienced up until now was nothing in comparison to the energy sapping cold of true winter...
I was wearing dirty rags as shoes, while ever one else was huddled for warmth during the snowstorm I was out there, digging through trash bins, and trying my best to see another day.
but as my hunger grew, and my limbs lost strength, my desperation led me to breaking into a home.
it was abandoned. but that didn't stop a neighbor from calling the guards.
they found me on the dirt floor, collapsed into a heap and barely able to look them in the eyes, let alone move to run.
but I wasn't even able to look at the guards, my eyes were too focused on a pattern I saw in the paint peeling from the wooden walls.
during my time in the jail cell they threw me in -and when the jailor wasn't looking- I practiced weaving that pattern into mana. It helped me greatly understand how to truly control my mana, not only that, I compounded on my cobbled together understanding of their language -Clovinian,- while I was there. by the end of my year long stay, was able to hold pretty long conversations with the only other constant prisoner in there.
anyway, what I ended up finding in that pattern is what I now call my 'disorientation curse' I don't actually know if it's a real curse, but I do know it de-buffs a person slightly. so that's what I call it.
this idea, of patterns existing within the world, and having special effects when those patterns are applied to raw mana, is the same idea that led me to making the 'tracking curse' a few years later.
I had eventually come to assume, that this insight into reality was the 'Cheat Skill' I was supposed to get, and stopped worrying about it, or even really thinking about it, in most any way except how to make mine better.
I only have these two at this point, because there is some kind of third condition of the perception of these that I haven't been able to put my finger on yet...
----
As I make my way deeper into what I assume is a corridor, hand held to one wall, I note with a not small bit of surprise, that the air is getting warmer.
Up until this point, it has been getting easier to tolerate the sheer cold of this place, at a remarkably fast pace now that I think about it… 'maybe it's because of all the blood we're covered in? acting as insulation? eeh.. that sounds insane, its probably magic land bullshit again...' cyan mumbles off with vexation
It's gotten to the point that, I haven't been using mana nearly as much, only when I need to fight, as after I ate that first creature raw… I…
What if these creatures have beast hearts..? The kind that give some kind of up and down when eaten raw?
Like the bear?..
It'd make a lot of sense why I suddenly got such a good cold resistance that I could actually exist within a place like this.
'The real question is… what did it take as the cost for this boon?' Purple queried.
I move deeper through the hall as my mind stews with what ifs. a few moments later, my hand loses the stone, and the air gets practically tolerable to be within.
The prickle of my skin as my sweat glands begin to reactivate brings with it an annoying, but tolerable itch. The feeling of the previously dried blood beginning to congeal on my flesh is a far less pleasant experience…
And as I shuffle deeper into the potential room I start to peel off the rather thick layer of blood on my hands and arms, and as I do, I am left speechless as I suddenly hear a screeching behind me, and as I leap backwards, where once was a hallway exit, is now nothing but chilly stone…
- - - -
as the little Shepard turned around and began to claw at the stone wall where once was a doorway, she suddenly froze in her actions as the pitch darkness of the room was flooded with a sickly yellow light from behind her.
As she slowly turned around, a shadowy figure was seen in the center of the room. When she saw it, she immediately stopped moving, like a deer in the path of a fire spell. She did not take her eyes off the very tall thing that stood at the center of the room.
Not even when, to the right of where the yellow light appeared, a bile green light added to the ambiance, and the figure was revealed further.
Then, in quick succession, an eye searing cyan light, and deep blue light manifest in clockwise motion, slowly creeping towards the other side of what has now been revealed to be a perfectly half spherical room.
Breaking the pattern, from the left of the yellow light, a copper orange light joins the fray.
Then a blood red light and then a mauve pink light.
The pink and blue lights are the closest to Shepard, and as they both light up, above the doorway turned wall that she was only a moment ago scratching at like a wounded dog, appears a gloomy purple light, one that she snaps her head up to with a surprised look on her face, then she snaps her head back down to keep staring at the humanoid.
Now that the room is fully lit, it is clear that the thing in the center is only approximating a human.
Around two and a half meters (eight feet two inches) this creature is an entire behemoth in comparison to the little Shepard's one and one eighteenth meter (three feet six inches)
Though the creature's body is a different story, with an extremely thin build and all of it's limbs except for it's head tapering off into sharp points this thing is clearly built for speed.
It's head is almost completely featureless, except for it's extremely wide open eyes, which are staring right back into the eyes of the little lady who now is sporting a look of dead eyed resignation on her bloodied face.
It looks tough for the little beast, will she be able to pull off a victory?
- - - -
Why do I get a feeling like I'm being talked about as if I'm an MMA contestant about to go into the ring against the Stone Cold, Steve Austen…
Well I mean, the stone is very cold.
On other news. The doll thing hasn't moved.
And it is, almost invisible in my Ki sense, it doesn't have emotions, I say almost, because it's still living, just far far more akin to a puppet than the other tall bastard…
This one's more edgy than the last I'll give it that too, but it seems it same besides that-
It's eyes are bigger. It doesn't have the same proto-eyelids as the other one…
My eyes are burning as I stare into its charcoal black depths, I don't know what will happen when I blink,
But I know it's not something I want to experience.
But, not being able to keep my eyes open any longer in the hot, dry room, I fold first and blink.
I barely dodge to the left as I feel a pinpoint graze past my head. I had only just for a moment closed my eyes, but in that time it had ample opportunity to get as close up and personal as it pleased.
The limb that nearly hit me wasn't an arm, but a leg.
As I reached out to grab it's leg, I had to dodge again as it's arm was about to pierce straight into my head.
I rolled underneath its legs, and turned around, only to find that the slippery bitch was nowhere to be seen.
I looked up, only to catch the gleam of ivory white out of my peripheral vision to my left.
Suddenly I felt a piercing pain in my spleen.
What- but before I could think, the thing was upon me again, in the sudden, excruciating pain of my spleen being injured, I staggered enough that the creature was able to stab into my chest.
The injury should have been enough to kill me, should have been enough to end me in all the ways that mattered. Should have been painful to the extreme.
I should have been gushing with blood. But the blood that came from my chest did not lead to a greater cold, nor did I hear my ribs breaking, I should be nothing but a corpse.
But I was still alive, for at least this moment, I was alive. On a whim, I pulsed my ki to its limits, and my throat tightened as I found no life from the creature in front of me.
Instead, I found that the slight life signature of the creature was instead coming from directly behind me.
An illusion?
If it were, it was quite powerful.
The pain was almost real. But, it was too consistent, like a blanket, the paint didn't pulse with my heartbeat, or in any way.
It was just there. No dampness was left by the blood, as it fell it did not add to the layer of blood already on my chest.
To compound this theory, there is something that has pierced all the way through my spleen. This pain is real, pulsing and raw, just thinking about it makes me feel sorry for even walking in here.
All of these realizations came and passed in my mind in a moment, as I reached behind me, and snapped the appendage off the creature. I did this so as to keep the insides of my spleen from falling out, by keeping the object there as a cork.
The life signature I was aiming at leapt high into the air. I followed it with my eyes and head.
I staggered forward, my body screaming at me to do anything else besides that.
Why did it aim for my spleen? Of all the things, why the fucking spleen!?
I ignored the illusion, as it tried and failed to stagger me in any way, the pain it made me feel was easily drowned out by the actual pain of the fucking spike in the upper left of my abdomen.
'Bet this thing's heart'll taste good' it was a passing thought, I didn't even catch who said it, but my mind wouldn't leave the thought to die alone as it echoed in my mind.
I gulp back the saliva invading my mouth as I continue towards the life sign. But the froth of more in my mouth stays, despite my minor efforts
It moved to close in on me again, I lean to the side, avoiding the cut to my face, and while it's being carried by the momentum, I manage to touch something solid.
I grasp that thing, and shove my other hand filled with ki -the one with the knife on it- ,directly at the biggest source of the thing's life sign.
What ever I am grabbing onto, I clearly wasn't holding hard enough, as the force of it pulling my grip off is enough to slice at the skin of my hand, I can feel it scraping the bones of my hand.
My teeth clench, as my eyes attempt to burst into tears at the sheer pain of that simple motion.
It rears back for another attack, In a desperate attempt to do anything to not die here. I fill the blood in my hand with magic and splash it on the thing. past the pain I note that, in my mental state, I had allowed my control of the mana to slip while casting. But the resounding lack of care that the rest of my mind had for that lack of control was magnified by the fact that I momentarily felt like I was about to pass out from the pain.
Unheeded by the rest of my mind, that Means that I had just put uncontrolled mana into my own spilt blood, using it as the surface for the magic I had failed to apply to it properly, that I then threw at an enemy I cannot see.
The blood gushing from my chest and all the constant pains around my body suddenly disappeared as I saw an ivory spike like limb exiting out of my side.
I looked up at the asshole, and find that the reason that the illusion had dropped is that the blood had fallen onto the face and upper chest of the bastard, and that the blood had been altered into some kind of incredibly caustic liquid, as the carapace of the creature was sloughing off in chunks, with the acidic blood falling with it.
I poured a bit of mana into the blade in my hand and hobbled up to it the action alon was enough to ignite the static in my mind. Deciding to allow one of us mercy, I lift the knife to put the puppet out of its emotionless misery
It snapped it's melting face up and stared at me in the eyes, I didn't look away from it's depths,
As the mask that was it's face slowly melted off, the shock and adrenaline I was under began receding, as I fell to my knees, still looking into it's eyes, I found that underneath it's masked face was. That of a dead eyed human.
His eyes are grey and dead, his skin although perfectly preserved within the shell, was nothing but skin and bone, no muscle or fat could be seen.
His eyes, snap to me, and for the briefest of moments, his ki flicked with a gentle gratitude. Before he collapses into a heap and his life sign fades
…
…
Next to his dead body, now lays a bloody pile of puke, the pain of hunger in my stomach was getting drowned out by the still present pain of the stake in my spleen.
'I ate people.' Was the only thought echoing in my mind, besides the screaming of my body.
'I was hoping his heart would… taste good.' My body begins to heave as I start to throw up again. But nothing leaves my body except for saliva.
The comprehension of my actions make the pain all the worse, as if tens of hundreds of chains have wrapped around my body to pull me into the abyss…
Why is it getting so hard to breathe?
I look down at myself, and suddenly the blood on my body feels as if it has all been turned to acid as well. I begin scrubbing at my skin, but all I do is spread more blood all over.
My eyes feel itchy as I ineffectually scrub at myself. My mind fills even further with fog as my breathing becomes even more erratic.
All the while, a certain tiny, emotionless voice in my mind rings out with narration after narration of my actions, noting how I had failed. The rest of that voices Narrations of the events of the night are drowned out by the sudden oncoming tidal wave of despair at the thought that I had actually, deep down, been completely unaffected by the killing. And-
My body curls further inward as I start to throw up again, but no matter how hard I try, the taste of pork won't leave my mouth…
But the sea of oil-y despair gets lit aflame by the fury of my ever being ok with doing something like that. And the terror of ever being ok with eating another human being.
The flaming sea of oil topples the tower within my mind, that of which holds that whom had narrated as such.
…
…
It is halting, and I almost fall back. But I eventually start to stand again, arms, legs and neck, ankles and wrists, torso most of all, still weighed down with chains the of my actions.
There is nothing in my stomach anymore. Not even stomach acid, it's like there's a hole inside me, all consuming, but existent in my mind as just another voice added to the countless screams.
As I stare up into the full moon, light shining in from a hole in the center of the half spherical room, I can't help but wonder under the screams.
'When did that get there?'…
The flames of my fury come to a halt, leaving not much more than the moon searing it's surface into my retinas.
'Oh. That might just be it…' and just as I was about to pass out standing up from the pain
[ Ding ]
A notification had suddenly appeared in my vision.
[ Function System unlocked
Function : Boss Battler ]
Wha-
It is then that the sound of seemingly hundreds of skittering legs, akin to… marble on stone. Reaches my ears, coming from the parts of the ceiling that the light doesn't even Pearce.
Then at the very bottom of my view, I see a very skinny rectangle make an appearance, and as the skittering of… whatever that thing is starts to sound in closer, the red light goes out as what I can only describe as a monster made of humanoid dolls, crawls out from the darkness, and covers it completely.
Whether it is to my luck or consternation, the damned thing still gets illuminated by the rest of the lights. And during all of this bullshit the godsdamned rectangle starts to ominously fill with red.
'That's a fucking boss bar!' And of course, just as I think this, the name of this beast appears above the bar and to the left.
[ Imperial Hydra Hebleske ]
And as the name appears, the 'face' of this thing also appears.
It's face is actually a collection of faces. Unlike the big guys, with the featureless faces, or the smaller fellas, with the cracked heads that turn into mouths, who were also people…
This things faces were all clearly human, with contours and facial hair, they all looked the same, same humanoid aristocratic faces with mustache and beard. Though two of the faces are upside down, they have crowns on their heads, and even hair underneath, but all of these things are the same ivory white if the carapace that makes their exterior up. All of them have pitch black eyes with white pupils.
It wasn't as if I had much time to take in the rest of it's body, as it started charging on it's far too many legs directly at me…
- - - -
That's the end of this chapter. Next one will be up in about a week if I'm stable about it.
Bye.