wolfblade Blog

Nostalgic Memoir; The Rocket Launcher

2010-04-05T22:34:00Z

Stealth and precision, tactics and skill, and shock and awe. All of these are the fundamental foundations to any good shooter game, and any good shooter game will implement all these fundamental necessities into the utilization of one, simple weapon. The weapon I am talking about is, of course, the Rocket Launcher.

Okay, so it may not be the most tactful means of negotiating with an aggressor, but it is a weapon that has won enough debates to maneuver around such needs of finesse. And let us put aside all useless ponderings on the matter and come to an agreement that there are few impasses and arguments that cannot be removed or won over with a well placed rocket… or five.

That tank compromising the safety of your fellow teammates? Shoot a rocket at it!

That hoard of alien invaders about to ambush your freedom fighters? Shoot a rocket at them!

That air-headed salesman still knocking at your front door? SHOOT A ROCKET AT HIM! And then shoot one more for good measure!

Any fan of the shooter genre will agree that there are few songs so beautiful as the resounding thunder of rocket fire and following chorus of earth-shattering explosions and screams of despair. I admit it has even brought a tear to my eye on multiple occasions.

There are many among us shooter fans that have fond memories of this beautiful tool of destruction, and our personalities and ways of wielding it are many more.

Perhaps you were the one who always hoarded the ammo, never daring to use the device until that loathsome Nazi Panzer came bursting through the wall or that alien drop-ship came blasting through the atmosphere. I have been you, and I admit those times, though scarce and far and in-between, were crowning moments within my shooting career that brought a deep feeling of satisfaction.

Or perhaps you were the one that waited only until you saw the first group of meandering aggressors that so happened to be unlucky enough to cross your path, or waited till that precise moment where the commander told you to utilize the most effective means of stealth before launching a barrage of rockets and following it up with a burst of maniacal laughter. Aye, I have been you. And though we may have run into difficulties with said tanks and drop-ships, but it was a cost well paid.

One thing is for certain; whether it be in the midst of Nazi uprisings, zombie outbreaks, or alien invasions; whether it be in a setting of the far past, changing present, or distant future, the rocket launcher is a fundamental tool that builds a trustworthy foundation to any shooter’s arsenal.

And lets face it, if you ever get tired of using the thing, you can always just take a chainsaw to some poor sap’s collarbone.

Short Story: Mortuus Surrexit, Chapter 2.

2010-01-15T17:27:00Z

As promised, Chapter 2. And as I stated before, both these chapters are in their rough-draft form, so expect to see them edited and updated in the near future. As I also stated before, I haven't forgotten my other story, and I will be directing some of my attention there shortly.

                                  Chapter Two
                                   “... There was darkness”

Fred awoke in the pitch-blackness, the stale smell of uncleaned toilet mingling with the putrid, sweet smell of decaying flesh. He let the cold cigarette butt fall from his mouth and hit the hard, cold surface of the women’s restroom floor. Dazedly, he tried without success to see through the dark haze of the unlit room.

Was it night or was it day? Were they still out there or did they meander off in search of another hapless victim. Did any of it even matter?

Probably not.

Haggardly, he reached for another cigarette and pulled out an empty pack. Balancing the empty pack in his hands, he finally let it fall to the floor; he could remember having a full pack the night before… before when? How long had he been lying in the dark confines of the women’s lavatories? He imagined what would have happened if the management had found him in here when everything had been normal, and he let a dark laugh escape his lips. The quiet sound seemed to echo off the walls and amplify a hundred times over.

Gingerly, he raised himself from the ground and balanced on unsteady legs. His stomach ached and gurgled, his head felt like a pounded anvil, and his vision inverted for a moment, leaving him wobbling in confusion. A moment later and he gained his bearings shakily. Holding himself steady and clearing his mind, he had one thought. How am I going to survive? As if to accentuate the thought, his stomach gave a low gurgle of protest.

He knew that if he wished to survive, then he would have to get supplies, and have to keep moving. Kicking away the empty pack of cigarettes, he began to move through the blackness to where he figured the door would be.

'And whatever happens, I still need more cigarettes,' Fred thought to himself.

Stumbling over a stall wall’s leg, he fell up against one of the sinks. Following the row of sinks, he passed the automatic hand dryer and paper towels, and began fumbling around for the door handle. The door gave a little click, but the noise sounded un-naturally loud within the cavernous walls of the store. Slowly he opened the door and peeked outside.

Light was streaming in through the west entrance, and he could make out a fallen poster with 'All-Mart’s’ logo painted in large white letters. Moving away from the restrooms, he began silently moving for the food section. He couldn’t see much in the dim light, but as he passed each isle, he could see that they were blessedly empty of any loitering ‘shoppers.’

Fred started to move down the 'Chips and Soft Drinks' section, and he felt his left foot go sliding out from beneath him. There was a long instant where Fred seemed to just float there, and then a blinding light stole Fred‘s vision, followed by enticing darkness as his skull rang like tolling bell.

Fred groggily shook his head and opened his eyes, many colored lights floated in an abyss of grey. Shutting his eyes tightly and blinking them again, the colors began to fade and the structure of the dim room began to show around him once again. He could feel that his back was wet.

He ran his hand along the slick surface of the floor, and brought his hand up before him. It was wet, covered in some dark, thick liquid… blood.

Fred felt his stomach lurch in protest again, and he tasted the bile that rose up in his throat. Carefully, he rose, and started for the men‘s apparel section. He wasn’t about to eat as he was now.

Mechanically, he went to work, trading in his blood soiled cloths for new and clean ones. Pulling on a pair of dark, blue jeans, he smirked up at the All-Mart advertisement poster. All you want for the price you want! Fred let himself have a humorous smile over the irony of that, before he remembered the reason behind his current predicament.

He remembered the agonized scream for help, calling out his name. He remembered watching the light of life leaving Jeff's eyes as his life blood stained the asphalt street. He remembered seeing his dead friend raise from the ground, hate and hunger clouding lifeless eyes.

It all had happened so fast. How could anyone have anticipated something like this ever happening in real life, like out of some deranged horror flick? And even if the concept of it was somehow plausible, who would have ever expected it to happen to a small town in the middle of nowhere? None of it made any sense, and no one took the warnings for what they were. Even if they did, no one had had time to organize. A few mentions of attacks on the radio, and then full scale outbreak; the dead coming back to life!

Pushing the depression and hopelessness aside, he went to work again, moving from section to section, pulling on a leather jacket, SWAT boots, and other assortments of survival gear. He strapped on a would-be expensive Rolex with a built in compass, and made his way to the sportsman section, stopping on the way to “purchase” a tactical GPS unit and some batteries, including some for his dead flashlight.

Grabbing a “Hunter’s Pack, save 20%” off the wall, he made his way to the gun safes. He was walking up to the glass protective safe holding various hunting knifes and ocular sights when he heard a muffled groaning. Fred stopped dead in his tracks, fear freezing his spine and wiping his mind blank. In a daze, he saw the mangled corpse of the original cashier slowly pull himself up from the floor. His blue cashier’s vest was torn and stained black with soiled blood, half the skin on his face looked as if it had been torn off by jagged fangs, and his jaw was broken and hung limply from the left.

And his eyes, those same dead, glinting eyes that had ravaged his dreams, met Fred’s eyes now.

Memories came flooding back to him, but angrily, brutally he shoved them away Willing himself to move, his frozen spine bent stiffly and his legs began to move shakily. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a rack of baseball bats. Moving determinedly he walked briskly up to the rack and tore a wooden bat free. Turning around, he saw that the zombie had already crawled over the counter and was limping toward him. Glancing idly at the zombie’s employee tag, Fred said, “Sorry Bill,” and brought the bat down over his head with all the strength he could muster.

The impact of the blow made Fred’s hands blister, and the zombies knees buckled as his skull split and his neck cracked, blackened blood spilling out over the floor as he fell.

As Fred stood there, staring down at the mangled corpse at his feet, the painful lurch that he felt in his stomach moved into his chest. Muttering another, “Sorry Bill,” He moved toward the glass case. Examining the case and its contents, he looked down to the blood stained bat in his hands. Giving a rueful sigh, he raised the bat again and brought it down in a shower of shattering glass.

Blinking and shaking himself off, he looked back over to Bill. A metallic glint was shining off the keys at his hip. Shrugging again, he began rifling through the glass rubble, grabbing a pair of tactical binoculars and strapping a pocket knife to the inside of one of his jean pockets. Proceeding, he strapped a hunting knife to the right side of his hip.

Walking over to the pistol case, he shattered that too, this time without the slightest hesitation. Going through the contents, he pulled out a tactical holster and complimented it with a .22 pistol. He strapped the holster around his chest and under his jacket, and took a long pause while he examined the gun.

Fred never really had any experience with guns before - nothing more then the paintball and air soft games he had played with some of the guys on weekends - and he didn’t know if he could properly wield one. He took a moment to look down the sights, aligning them with All-Marts winking mascot and imagined the digital crosshairs of the guns in his video games before letting the gun drop to his side. Picking up the four magazines he could find, he loaded each with the maximum twelve rounds. Loading one into the pistol cartridge, he stashed the other three in a pocket in his jacket.

Moving over to the rifle cabinets, Fred brought the bat to bare for the third time. The glass cabinet shattered into a thousand glinting grains and Fred stepped forward and pulled out a shotgun. Moving with the mechanical precision of the survivals expert, he popped each shell into the chamber, giving it a little pump at the eighth and bringing it up to his shoulder.

'Well this isn‘t too unlike a video game…' Fred thought to himself with a little confidence. 'Except for the fact that this is real and I forgot ‘easy mode‘ and the ‘reset button‘ in my Xbox.' Sighing, he filled his remaining inside pocket with about dozen shells.

After securing all his weapons, (holstering his pistol under his jacket and strapping the shotgun to his back,) his stomach again reminded him why he left the restrooms in the first place. Shouldering his hunter’s pack he headed for the snacks section. Filling his pack with energy bars, protein shakes, chips, Gatorade, water and etc, before grabbing a few not-so-frozen, frozen meals. The passage of over twenty-four hours had left most of the food thawed out and probably bad, but there were a few that looked as if they would be edible.

Gathering up the food, he headed over to home appliances to see if anything would work. Of course all things seemed unsuccessful, and the electricity was undoubtedly out.

An orange glow was now permeating the western exit and Fred knew it would not be long till sunset. He figured that the circuit breakers might be out, and that he could probably find them in the employees only section, but from looking to the orange glow outside, and the lightless haze behind the windows of those big swinging doors, he decided it would be best to let it be.

Fred had one last stop to make before he retired somewhere safer for the night; Fred needed cigarettes.

Then it was too the roof, where he would ascertain his standings before turning in to somewhere relatively safe for the night. Tomorrow, he would leave this light forsaken store behind with the coming of the morning’s twilight.

*****

Fred dropped the last seven feet from All-Mart’s emergency stairwell and hit the pavement hard, dropping him to his hands and knees. Picking himself up and brushing himself off, Fred made a quick glance around the twilight lit parking lot while he rubbed his wounded hands and knees.

Almost everything was as it was the night he had frenziedly pulled into the desolate lot, drunk with fear and mind in a haze. The dead zombie he had laid low with his mag-light still lay at the entrance door - which had stopped opening and closing on its own when the electricity had finally gone - and his car was still the only one in the parking lot.

Making a double take, Fred realized he was not completely right about that. His was not the only vehicle that had been in the lot after he had arrived, and Fred not the only person. He began walking toward his old sedan. Stepping over litter and walking around a suspicious looking stain, Fred soon found himself staring down at his stripped down vehicle. With all four tires and the spare removed, and the gas siphoned out. Fred wasn’t going anywhere in that for quite some time.

He let a resigned sigh escape his lips, then raised his head to look up at the burning sky as the sun’s halo peaked the roof-tops of the surrounding buildings. He wondered why whoever had come had not tried to holdup in the store before his young mind once again remembered all those video-games and movies. Zombies just loved malls, didn't they? Well everyone else must have thought the same thing, avoiding the big stores like the plague itself.

Looking around at the lot, Fred let out a little laugh.

'I guess it doesn't always pay to think ahead like that, at least I was safe!' Fred's smile turned to a frown however, as his memory spiraled back to that darkest of nights.

Fred looked up at the surrounding store and buildings. All the windows were dark, and Fred marveled at the complete silence at the once busy district. Those once inviting shop windows now looked dark and malevolent. The once warm and friendly doorways now masquerading as gateways to a dark and violent end. The district that once pumped the lifeblood into the surrounding towns was now cold and dead, with danger whispering enticingly at every ally and waiting in every shadow. The dawn’s fiery glow gave it all an eerie light.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Fred drew a cigarette and a lighter. Holding the lit ‘Zippo’ to cigarette butt before flipping it closed, Fred made a slow, conservative walk up the parking lot and made his meandering way down the street, no real conscious and distinguishable thought driving his steps as he entered into an increasingly dark world.

Short Story: Mortuus Surrexit, Chapter 1.

2010-01-15T17:11:00Z

Prologue:

http://gameinformer.com/blogs/members/b/wolfblade_blog/archive/2010/01/14/short-story-mortuus-surrexit-prologue.aspx

Anyways, here is Chapter 1. However, it still needs some serious refinement, along with chapter two that I will be adding directly after this, so expect the two to be edited and updated in the future.

                                                                       Chapter One
                                         “In the beginning...”

A dry wind blew across the desolate landscape of the sand-strewn, desert terrain. It stirred up dust devils and whipped through the confined streets of a remote little desert village, stinging the eyes and faces of the various market goers and inhabitants that were brave enough to face the angry glare from a merciless sun.

The wind whipped through the hair and stung the eyes of one man in particular as he made a conservative pace down the dusty streets. Aaron Sou, a Japanese/American doctor of some reverence, smiled happily despite the dry heat and harsh climate of the desert.

Aaron Sou's smiling face shot into view as Maxwell Johnson brought the crosshairs of the scope up to his right eye.

Aaron Sou had a loving wife; the bolt of the .223 caliber rifle slid back. He had four kids; the bolt caught the round and pushed it smoothly into the chamber as it slid forward. One boy; the bolt locked into place. Three girls; the safety mechanism gave a small click as it slid off. Aaron Sou even had a dog and a cat, all of whom in his family depended on the meager cash he scarped in while working as a natural doctor and in his own non-profit organization; the firing pin gave the barest of metallic clicks, a click that tolled like a funeral bell as the gunpowder in the .223 round sizzled and ignited.

Aaron Sou was waving enthusiastically to a passerby as the super-sonic round ripped through his chest, destroying his heart as it passed through his body. He still wore the same happy smile as his knees buckled and he fell dead to the dusty street.

Aaron Sou was also an enemy of the organization, an enemy of Aegis; and it was Maxwell's job to eliminate those enemies quietly and without pity.

Smooth and without ceremony, Max began breaking down his rifle and storing it in his case with lightning quick precision. He was already rising from his kneeling position to make his way back to the jeep before the first echoing sounds of the shocked screams reached him on the crest of the ridge that stood three-quarters of a mile away from the village.

Calmly, he vaulted over the door, stored his rifle case, and started the ignition in one, smooth execution. Less then moments after he was racing away, due south of the village, careful to not stir up a dust trail as he made his way speedily towards his extraction point.

Yes, Aaron Sou was an enemy of the organization and he had eliminated him. Mission success, and that was all that mattered.

Max drove calmly off into the dawn, as merciless as the desert sun and as cold as the arctic winter.

*****

Max walked the cold halls of Aegis's main facility and came to his employer's office doors. The automatic doors slid open with a well oiled shhk, and Max stepped through the portal. His employer, the esteemed - and utterly despised - Kenneth Redfield, was slowly pacing back and forth as he read a file gripped in bloodless hands. Frustration getting the better of him, Kenneth tore the paper in half and spun on the spot.

"I'm going to need your skills again, Mr. Johnson," The slightly enraged looking Director said in calm and even tones that contradicted the look in his eyes. "How quickly can you be prepped to leave?"

"Immediately," Max responded evenly.

"Good, just what I wanted to hear," Kenneth replied. "Go clean yourself up and report back here in fifteen minutes time for briefing."

With a slight nod, Max turned to leave, casting one last glance at his disturbed employer as he looked worriedly down at the ripped file before the automatic doors sealed behind him.

Precise to a fault, Max returned fifteen minutes later, cleaned, changed, and ready to go.

"Your chopper is already being fueled, stop at the armory on your way out after you read the files," said Kenneth without ceremony or hesitation as Max walked through the doors. "Be forewarned that we are not entirely sure with what we are dealing with here."

Kenneth walked over to a flashing computer monitor and quickly punched in a few keys.

"At precisely Twenty-three minutes of Eight AM this morning, we received a distress call from one of our top research facilities. The researcher in question only had time to say that something had happened to one of their test subjects before we lost contact, some electrical interference of some kind..."

"At approximately One-Forty PM, we were able to reestablish contact at the facility. This is what the cameras showed us." Kenneth moved away from the monitor and motioned for Max to step forward. He did so and looked down at the flashing screen.

On every camera display blood soaked the walls and floors. And the corpses, the corpses that looked on with lifeless eyes and fatal wounds, walked and stumbled aimlessly in every direction.

The dead walked, flesh hanging from bone and in some cases mouths, yet they walked aimlessly in every direction.

One was slightly different however. As a little girl walked into the view of one of the cameras, Max's eyes were drawn to her. She walked as a live human would, and Max would have placed her as one if he had not felt something incredibly wrong about that child.

As he continued to look, the child stopped. She stopped directly below the camera's feed and slowly looked up into the lens and smiled.

Max felt a sharp pain in his head and the camera went blank. Max rubbed his temples as he stared bewilderedly at the blank screens, it would have seemed that all the cameras had failed at the same time.

"And that's all we received," Kenneth finished with a frown.

"What happened down there, sir?" asked Max.

"That is what we want you to find out," said Kenneth. "This was one of our key research facilities in Aegis's main project. You will go there, contain the problem before it goes public, and get any data and samples possible."

"Be careful though. As one of the products of Aegis's genetic engineering yourself, you do not need me to tell you the dangers that may await you on this mission."

The Director turned away as Max bowed his head in compliance and looked up to the shining plaque that hung over his desk.

'To become gods amongst men, we shall walk the path of devils.'

Max gave one last look at the director before continuing out the door. As he made his way towards the armory, he reviewed the files in his hands. The word's "Genetic Enhancement" popped up numerous times amongst the file's text, and he couldn't help but to let his mind wander back in time to when he was a child; to when he was a thirteen-year-old boy who was 'graciously' adopted from an orphanage and thrust into a lab for 'genetic enhancement' and 'the greater good.'

The past didn't matter however, it was six years past and there was nothing he could do about it.

There was nothing he could do about his future either. He belonged to Aegis and that was that. He was a weapon, nothing more, nothing less. And because of what they did to him, he would never be able to be anything more.

Folding the file and storing it in his pocket, Max cast aside all memories of the past and walked into the armory to be outfitted. Visions of the walking corpses and strange girl flickered through his mind. Thinking, he walked down the lines of armaments. Strapping on two .45 acp pistols to his side and complementing them with two quick reloaders.

The reloaders strapped to his back in a generally comfortable fit. Each holding up to six extra magazines for his pistols and equipped with a sliding mechanism so he could reload on the run. Testing his weapons' action and slides, checking the oil and testing the sights and laser pointers, he gave a satisfied grunt before placing them into their respective holsters.

Walking down the lines, Max moved towards the melee weaponry. He picked out a sword that, to the eyes of a normal teenaged boy his age, would probably be considered a cross between an oversized cleaver and a ninja sword. He could almost picture himself in a different version of his life, showing off the weapon to a bunch of admiring, drooling friends.

This was not that life however, and it never would be. To Max, this was merely another weapon's whose light weight yet heavy blade would be beneficial to his mission when he confronted the walking dead. A choice made of practicality, though the walking dead weren't entirely practical. Max had been able to see a few movies in a lifetime before his current reality, and he thought this complimented the situation nicely.

Lastly, Max picked up a standard issue M16 Assault Rifle, fitted it with a small, 4X magnification scope, and taped together two sets of duel clips. Slinging the weapon over his back with his 'ninja cleaver,' he walked out the door and on to the helicopter pad. At his arrival, the engines blared to life and the blades began to whirr.

Wordlessly he mounted, and soon he was flying through the night air with nothing but the moon and the pilot to keep him company in another routine mission, though perhaps routine wasn't the right word for it. It mattered little though, he would complete his mission, contain the threat, neutralize it, and collect the data he needed. Nothing to it.

*****


The Car's engine blared as Clair's mother stepped heavily on the gas and she screamed profanities at the car in Hysteria. Clair was screaming too, though nothing intelligible came from her lips.

'This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening!!!' she thought as she viewed the carnage around her.

Buildings and vehicles lay drenched in flame, screams echoed ceaselessly into the night, and corpses lined the roads. And the corpses that didn't stay corpses either.

Walking dead meandered mindlessly up and down the road, grabbing out as people ran past or climbing over cars as they tried hopelessly to flee. The roads were blocked however, and the dead were walking among them.

Cars recklessly smashed into one another, and those who tried to flee the vehicles were ran down or snatched up from the demons that hunted among them.

Clair and her mother were one of the lucky ones though, they were not trapped in by the other cars, not entirely anyway. And her mother was desperately looking for some rout to escape by.

Clair watched as Janice, the channel two news reporter, ran recklessly down the street, distancing herself from her cameraman as he hobbled hungrily after her. Janice made the mistake of looking back, and then running directly into the awaiting arms of a zombie as he stumbled blindly out of an alley-way.

Clair put her hands to her ears and cried as the reporters blood curdling scream join the chorus of others.

Every second that passed, the streets were growing more and more crowded, and soon Clair and her mother would be entrapped.

"Clair," said her mother's shaky voice. "I want you to buckle up now, sweetie." Though she was scared witless, her mother was trying her best to sound normal.

"Mom?" replied Clair, unsure.

"We are going to be taking a bumpy shortcut," she said as she looked at a trailer ramp. A trailer ramp pointed directly at a house.

"Mom?" Clair squeaked as she fumbled with the buckle.

"Hold on, sweetie." Then she punched it, shooting forward and turning towards the ramp at top speeds. A zombie had meandered in front of the path and went flying over the hood as Clair's mother refused to slow down.

The next thing Clair knew, they were airborne. For a single, sickeningly long moment, they were airborne. Then they were crashing through the living room window of a whitewashed house, crashing through tables and furniture, breaking through walls and out the bedroom before finally ending up outside again, screaming all the while.

As they broke through the bedroom wall, mercifully alive, they came out at the fenced in backyard. Clair was still screaming and her mother still going all out as they crossed the distance to the end of the yard, where no buildings or fires could be seen covering the horizon; where freedom was.

The car broke through the hedge of bushes and Clair's mother let out a scream of triumph. A scream that quickly turn strangled in shock.

For the second time that night, Clair and her mother were airborne. And then they were dropping. A long ways down.

Short Story: Mortuus Surrexit, Prologue.

2010-01-15T04:41:00Z

Well I'm back, and after a several month's long absence. So, to commemorate the event, I have decided to begin another short story in my blog. Though I still do intend to finish my old one, I was thinking it time to start adding more, as this will just be the first of several more to come.

Prologue
“We, who would be gods amongst men.”

The security gate gave a resounding ding as John’s identity card slipped through the scanner. On the overhead a green light flashed acknowledgement and the bulletproof glass door slid open with a slick and airy sigh. The door slid shut again as John stepped through the portal. Immediately after the doors had closed, sterilizing chemicals began spraying John for any outside infections. The wispy smoke cleared, dissolving into a thin mist as the sprayers ceased their activity, and another door opened to unbar his path.

“Good morning, John,” came the perky and girlish voice over the intercom.

“Hello Samantha,” replied John in a thick, mechanical tone.

Security Active and Mechanized Action, Neural THinking Automaton, or ‘Samantha’ for short, was the interactive security network of the Aegis II program’s allocated underground facility, somewhere on this 'no-name worth mentioning' city in the middle of hic-ville central. She was an AI program with borderline human behavior, (at least on the outside.) She had nearly unlimited access to all mechanized utilities, and security protocols and devices. When John was first aquatinted with this peculiar AI who would be like his boss, he felt a little apprehensive. Now, however, and after three years of working with the AI, he only felt slightly annoyed by her from time-to-time.

Samantha made a pouting sound over the com-link. “John!” she whined, “your so mean! Why is everyone always so robotic and cold?”

“Well you’re the only robot here, Sam, why aren’t you?” replied John, setting off down one of a series of many honeycombed corridors.

Samantha sniffed loudly but quickly regained her petulant voice. “Well someone has to have a little life down here, else everyone will commit suicide in this decrepit place!”

“I’m pretty sure you are the only suicide inducing object in these people’s day-to-day life, Sam. You certainly induce it in me.”

Samantha began pouting loudly over the com-station. It was all a game to her however, for the two generally did the same thing every day. It was all part of her neural scanning and analyzing process; detecting security threats and possible corruption from the employee’s minds and actions by any oddities in body language or the mental/chemical structure. John often wondered if he would have had a different life if his councilor had been able to analyze as effectively as Samantha.

“No need to be a scrooge, John; analysis complete, the director requests your assistance in Eve’s observatory.” Samantha must have noticed the immediate effect of depression as John heard those words (the distinct chemical changes in his body as his mind went through a series of depressions and self loathing) because she did not bother John after that. He knew that she was watching however, she was always watching and analyzing.

The corridor lights lining the floors and ceilings flickered lazily as John continued to wonder through his haze and down the hallway to the “observatory,” the over-glorified torture chamber that served as Aegis project’s main test subject’s observatory.

John reminded himself that everything done down here, down in this light forsaken facility of inhuman evils, had a reason. What they did down here would one day save millions. What evils that were committed down here would path the way for a better and safer future for all mankind. He reminded himself, but somehow still felt cold an wretched deep down.

It was OK, however. He would do what needed to be done. No matter the cost.

John swiped his security card again, and a door that was nearly hidden in the wall slid open with silent hydraulics. He stepped through, presented his open palm on a slick part of the wall, an stepped back again as he heard a soft mechanical click. Across the hallway from him, part of the solid wall slid away to reveal a narrow, descending staircase.

John’s shoes clanked noisily on his way down the dank, damp passage. Dim red lights gave little light and he had to keep his hands firmly on the encasing walls.

‘You think with all the funding this facility gets it would be bale to afford handrails,’ John thought glumly, reaching the bottom step and again presenting his palm for scanning. ’Then again, they may have spent it all on scanners…’

The door gave a loud, unlocking click, and John opened the handle with a jerk and pushed the heavy door open. It swung back on hydraulic hinges and locked once again when closed.

The inside of the room was a cliché of bright lights, observatory cages, and willowy looking men in glasses and white lab coats, walking aimlessly and scribbling notes on clipboards. One thing seemed out of place however. Instead of test animals, the cage held a small, decrepit looking, human girl.

The Aegis program had one goal, to make the perfect human being. A person with mental and physical capabilities off the charts, regenerative capabilities twenty times stronger then any normal being, and senses of a heightened power far beyond any other creature. In short, a project to unlock mankind’s true and latent abilities, and enhance them even beyond that point. To give immunity to all forms of disease, and extend life expectancy to hundred’s of years, or even, some spoke of, immortality.

To accomplish this goal, Aegis would use any method at their disposal, even if it meant the death’s of hundreds of test subjects. And hundred’s of test subjects had died, but one had shown the most promise.

Eve.

Though she looked like any other girl of nine years old, she had the strength of an adult and a mind at a university grade level (when they could get her to actually do anything.) She could solve complex equations, read, write, and speak fluently in several different languages, and when they cut her… when they cut her, her wounds would heal in the blink of an eye… depending on the size.

Despite this, she was ill most of the time, at some times totally unresponsive. But even so, thanks to her, they were making progress with other test subjects. Because of this, the people opted to name her Eve. In honor of her accomplishments.

John had a hard time not laughing at that one. The things that were forced upon her was a form of the cruelest torture. Exposing her to disease after disease, injuring her, breaking limbs, cutting, and even shooting her. Though she healed quickly from the injuries and recovered from most of the sicknesses, the arrogant scientist in their dry-cleaned lab coats and prim looking demeanor could only congratulate her, telling her she should be proud of her accomplishments.

But did any of them consider that she didn’t want this ‘honor?’ Did any of them consider the damage they had done to this innocent girl’s life, whose only crime had been that no one would miss her when she was kidnapped and used for testing?

John turned around and read the plaque that stood above the door. ‘To become gods amongst men, we shall walk the path of devils.’

“In the end, what will we be remembered as?” John whispered silently to himself. “Will it be gods, or will it be devils?”

“Gods, of course!”

John turned back around to confront Mr. Ryu, the facilities director.

“Are you sure, director?” John found himself asking, despite knowing what the man would say.

“Of course!” he said. Still seeing John’s doubt, he sighed and motioned for him to follow. “For the sake of many we must sacrifice the few. To path the way for a better life of millions, we must destroy the lives of hundreds. To become gods, we must first become devils. No one ever said the price would be an easy one to pay, but it must be paid!”

“I know sir,” said John. “You have said it many times…”

The director gazed at him for a while before nodding his head in acceptance. “You will feel more sure after today,” he assured him. John looked up expectantly.

“We will need you to keep her calm for the administration,” the director finally said. “You are the only one who gets through to her now, for some reason. Assure her that she will be fine. Keep her occupied. Do whatever it is you do to attract her attention.” The director then turned and motioned up the administration team. John nodded glumly to no one in particular and walked over to Eve.

“Hi Marie,” said John, a sad smile on his face as he kneeled down. John was the only one who used Eve’s true name still, was the only one who even bothered to figure it out in the first place. And though it was at first discouraged, even now discouraged, it was one of the only things that got through to her.

Marie looked up, face blank and as expressionless as always. Through the whole time John had known her, he had only seen her smile once. And that was when he first used her name and presented her with some candy, holding her hand as a syringe was placed in her arm. He had gotten yelled at because of it, but he didn’t care, this girl needed at least a little kindness in her life.

Marie continued to stare blankly at him, recognition seeming to flit on the edge of her mind. Another side effect at being the perfect human being.

“They are gunna give you a little shot now, Marie, but don’t be afraid.” He held his hand out through the bars. “I won’t leave your side for a moment.”

She stared blankly at the hand for a short time, then slowly grasped it with both hers. Though she did so gently, John was always surprised by the potential strength in her grip.

“Everything will be fine,” he lied.

She looked up into his eyes, boundless intelligence floating just behind jade green pools of clouded ignorance.

“OK Eve, time for your medicine,” said a white coated lab assistant with an extended syringe. Marie looked at the syringe and fear made her grip John’s hand a little more tightly. He squeezed back and Marie looked back into his face.

The syringe touched her skin and she did not shy back. In the moments before the injection she spoke.

“Yes. All will now be made right.”

The words caused a slight pause before the injection, but that was not what made John flinch. The moment she spoke, John heard her say another word. Not with her mouth, but he heard her voice inside his mind. A voice that screamed louder and echoed longer then any other he had ever heard. A word that left him frozen in fear.

Justice!

The liquid entered her veins, and Marie held her gaze for moments after. Then her eyes shot wide, her muscles constricted, and her grip went lax as her body shot into convulsions. John held on tightly to her twitching hand, screaming her name as she fell to the floor. Her veins seemed to move like snakes as the twisted and turned erratically.

“MARIE!”

“Someone get in there with her!” John heard the director scream.

“What’s happening?”

“Did someone use the wrong syringe?”

“Analyze it, analyze it now!”

“Figure out what’s happening!”

“Is she breathing?”

“Get a rehabilitator in here stat!”

“Move, move, move!”

Her veins stopped snaking under her skin, and Marie’s twitching muscles went completely lax. Doctors and scientist bustled around the room amidst a tornado of flying papers and thunder of screaming voices. Amidst the chaos, one of the doctors had opened the cage and dropped to her side.

“She doesn’t have a pulse,” the doctor said. “Get that-”

Everything else was cut off on a blood curdling scream as Marie’s body jerked back into motion and her teeth sank into the doctor’s arm.

“Get her off him!” the director screamed. “Put her out!”

Several tranquilizer darts shot into her body but she gave no recognition of them even touching her. Several more men in white coats were trying their best to pull her off the doctor and to pull him away, but her grip was iron. Finally, someone hit over the head with the butt of a tranquilizer gun and she loosened her grip momentarily.

The doctor went flying away, leaving a chunk of his arm behind and pouring blood.

“Get him to the medical center!”

In seconds, the doctor had been rushed out of the room and up the stairs. Moments later, the noise quieted down and everyone calmed. It wasn’t the first time in their line of work where something went wrong, so they gathered themselves up quite quickly.

“Sanders,” said the director when all was quiet again. Mop up that blood.”

“Yes sir.”

“John. John… John!”

John shook himself and forced himself to look away from the unconscious Marie.

“Please move away from there, John,” the director said.

John nodded once and began to stand, but movement caused everyone to halt and look back to Marie.

She was now standing, face blank as ever, blood covering it and running down her shirt. She stared at John almost quizzically.

The director was now pulling him away. “John. I want you to head to the treatment center, see if they can’t give you anything to help.” John nodded his head dumbly, staring back at Marie even as he was pushed through the door.

Outside, after the door had clicked shut and locked, John slumped backwards against it and buried his face in his hands. He felt cold, frozen to the very core. Marie’s eyes still scouring his mind.

He had seen staring eyes like that before, many times since working here. Every child, every ’test subject’ that died, had stared with those very same eyes. And no matter what way John put it, he could only see the eyes of a dead Marie staring back at him. Inquisitive, calculating… dead.

What had he let happen to her?

He gave a little shiver and a shook his head before standing. He would turn around, walk back in there, and tell the director that he was staying with her. And if not, then he would quit. Get locked up even though he might, he would quit!

He pressed his palm up against the scanner and the door unlocked again. With a jerk, he pushed it open.

Hell met his eyes.

Blood covered the walls and pooled on the floor; bodies and limbs lay mangled and broken across the cold cement. He felt something move at his feet and looked down to see the director’s body, severed in half, one hand still clutching the handle of the door he had just shown John out of. There was a ripping sound, and the soft melody of girlish laughter.

John looked up, his eyes meeting with Marie’s. She had broken out of her cage and was covered in blood from head to toe. She was kneeling down and had Sanders’ body clutched to her chest. Sanders’ head lolled to the side, his throat torn out, the white of his spine peeking out from the gore.

Marie laughed again, a piece of flesh falling from her mouth. She stood, Sanders’ body clutched and lolling like some kind of macabre rag doll, and smiled.

“Justice.”

He heard the word as much in his mind as with his ears, and it echoed in the blank void of horror that it had become.

She laughed again the next thing John knew he was running flat out up the staircase and smashing his hand against the scanner. The door slid up and open, and before it had closed again he was halfway down the hall and running toward the medical center. His mind had gone blank with horror and the beating of his own heart in his ears.

He rounded the bend came to a slippery halt. A strange, dark liquid was covering the walls and floors of the dark corridor, and it was only now that his mind registered that the alarm had been blaring in his ears ever since the door opened.

A loud clanking noise brought his attention to the left, and he saw a man ambling towards him clumsily. The man stumbled into the light and fear wrapped its cold claws around John’s chest as the image of Sanders’ confronted him again, and he froze in that spot.

“John!”

John jerked to attention.

“John!”

“Sam?”

“There’s no time John! Follow my instructions!” Samantha’s voice echoed over his com. “To the right John! Run down the corridor to the right!”

Without thinking, John began to run, fallowing Samantha’s instructions.

“Left!”

“Up the staircase!”

“To the right!”

John ran, lungs gasping for air. He passed one of the mess-halls, blood staining the doors, and screams and moans echoing inside. Occasionally, he ran parallel with another human going the opposite way in escape. Occasionally he hopped bodies. And occasionally he saw mangled corpses of fellow co-workers trying to rise from the floor.

Through it all, Sam kept yelling directions into his ear, keeping him away from as much danger as possible.

“Left!”

John turned, feet pounding down the hallway until he came to a jerking halt.

“No good Sam! This is a dead end!”

“Just hold on a second!” she yelled back, almost frantically.

A noise from behind and John turned to see a willowy, mangled corpse claw itself around the corner. In the light, it looked a little different from the others. Dark blotched, pale skin with black blood seeping out of gnarled, half-healed wounds, and elongated, wraith-like hands.

The creature took one look at him, gave a horrible hissing moan, and began a rambling run down the corridor in his direction.

“SAM!!!”

“Go now!”

A door slid up and open behind him, and he wasted no time in slipping through and going down the stairs. The door slid shut just in time for a loud and heavy impact on the other end.

John descended the staircase and came to another door, just like Marie’s observatory. Mechanically he presented his palm and the door buzzed, not in recognition.

“Hold on a second,” came Sam’s voice, now calmer. The door unlocked and John stepped inside.

It was a kind of security/storage room, filled with boxes and flashing monitors. It had some odd’s and end’s equipment like exercise machines, refrigerators, microwaves, and etc.

“What is this place?” asked John.

“A safe house, filled with enough supplies to keep someone alive for years without leaving. And the only room with a manual lock from the inside that can’t be opened electronically. If I were you, I would lock it now.”

John quickly looked around and saw the large deadbolts and bars that could be manually sealed. Dead bolting and barring the door, he gave it a little test shake and walked away assured.

“But can those things get through the doors?” he asked.

“Not without assistance, no.”

“Who would assist-”

“No time John, I need you to follow my instructions directly!”

John paused, but nodded his head and waited.

“The computer directly to your left. Use it.”

John stepped over and looked down at the flashing monitor. It looked like all the other standard computers integrated into the system.

“This is the only computer in the room that is connected to my network. I have downloaded part of my consciousness into it and would like for you to click on the ’quarantine’ option.”

Seeing a little flashing alert on the screen reading, ’quarantine, yes or no?’ he clicked yes.

“Thank you, now that is done, I would like to give you the grand tour.” A little bit of Samantha’s usual perkiness worked its way back into her voice, but she still remained quite serious. “All the remaining five computers are set up on networks and internal batteries of their own. If the need arises, I would like you to take this disk,” a disk popped out of the computer to his left, “and place it in the farthest computer to the right, which already has a bit of my encryption integrated into its system.”

“Against the far wall we have the monitoring system, which is also on a separate network then the rest of our security system. It has less coverage, but it will do.”

“It is also on a separate power system, and can be manually charged or used with a back up generator if the need ever arises, which it will most likely do.”

“The cooking and refrigeration system is also on this room’s private power system, but can in like be hooked up to one of the backup generators or manually empowered and recharged with a handy hook up to the exercising cycles.”

“You have enough supplies to last you three years with a family of four so you should not go wanting.”

“Will others be joining me?” asked John. Samantha paused.

“No,” She said finally. “There is not much time I have left, when the computer finishes quarantining my memory, I will disconnect and ask that you power down the computer and only use it in the utmost of emergencies. Though I will be quarantined to this system alone, an outside source could still hack in.”

“Is that a problem?”

“More then you know.”

John paused, and neither of them said anything for a long second.

“If things get bad,” Sam continued. “You can remove the hard rive from this computer and plug it up to computer to the farthest right. My core code will be downloaded into it, and though I may be suffering from some minor memory loss and no longer able to assist much in outside manners, I will still be able to give advice.”

“What’s happening,” the question was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Again, Sam gave a pause.”

“Extinction,” she said. “Infected have already breached the upper levels and soon will breach the outside world.”

“Can’t you stop them?”

“No, most of my core security measures have already been overridden. It is no longer in my hands. I used crucial time guide you here.”

This news gave John pause. Wasn’t that against her security protocol? Why would she even do it? John voiced these questions. She didn’t answer for thirty whole seconds.

“Because it was the only thing I could do.” Another pause. “Whatever you do, don’t open the door unless help arrives, and you best be sure even then.”

“I still don’t know what’s going on!”

“Look at the monitors.”

John turned. Across the sixteen monitors were scenes of gore and terror, blood and human’s running, killing, and dying. On one of the screens, John saw Marie walking slowly through a hallway bathed in blood.

Marie stopped and looked up directly at the security camera, directly into John’s eyes, and smiled.

“To become gods amongst men, we shall walk the path of devils,” Sam quoted. “I always hated that saying.”

“You too?” asked John, calmly turning off Marie’s monitor. “And now we who tried to play God, have created devils, harbingers of our doom?”

“It would seem so,” Sam answered back calmly.

“Somehow… somehow I knew we would pay for what we have done in the end. I suppose our superiors will only see this as a need to increase our security measures?”

“Most likely,” Sam again answered calmly.

Silence stretched, moving from seconds into minutes, and still neither spoke. Finally, a familiar ding broke through the silence and pulled John’s attention back to the computer. The bright letters ‘quarantine complete’ flashed across the screen.

“If you ever need me…”

“OK, Sam… Thanks.”

“John?”

“Yes?”

“… Good luck.”

Then the system powered down and there was nothing but silence accompanying John as he stood alone amongst flashing monitors.

He leaned against the cold, steel walls. The horrors of the nights events continued to play themselves out over and over in his head, and Marie’s blood covered, smiling face had imprinted itself eternally into his mind.

Finally, determining that doing nothing was becoming too unbearable, John moved over to the desk of computers. Eyes scanning the surface, he found a switch for a video and voice recording device. Flipping on the recorder, John began to speak.

“Survivor’s log, day one. John Brian William’s, 29 years of age.”

“We, who would be gods among men. We, who would strive to challenge God on His throne, have not gone unheard. And He has answered our challenge.”

“Behold now, the chronicles of mankind’s judgment…”

Short story: Black Gate, chapter 3 (full)

2009-11-15T08:04:00Z

The third installment of the short story I am posting here on GI. (and complete since this colossal *** decided to get off it... then back on to finally finish it. Enjoy...

                     Black Gate

                                                          Chapter 3
                           'What lies in the shadow'

The darkness grew ever thicker around the party as they made their slow, steady descent into the labyrinthine halls. The darkness was so encompassing that it seemed a great wall, giving away only grudgingly to the hissing torches in the party's hands. They had the uneasy feeling that the darkness even shut out most sounds as they listened to the muffled slap of their own feet on the damp floors.

And as they descended, the unknown shadow aura always stayed one step ahead of them.

Since Jabeth first felt the aura before their last encounter with the tunnel dwelling creatures that had once been human, It had been on the move. Sometimes the aura slipped away before Jabeth again felt it shadowing from behind, then at other times they would pass close by it . But always it returned to stalking ahead of them, staying out of reach from the light but never too far ahead.

"The aura is strange. Nothing quite like I have ever felt, but still similar," Jabeth mused silently to himself. Though whatever this creature was had everybody's nerves on end, Jabeth was only curious. This put everyone further on end, because whenever Jabeth had been curious over something, it was usually that something that ended up nearly killing them all, or worse.

three hours of non-stop walking with no other encounters and only the shadow aura for company, and fatigue started to settle over the group. When they had first started out, Gareck's only real fear had been that they would be forced to sleep somewhere where it would be not so easily defendable. With weariness setting in on the group, it would seem that time was running out. The creature must have been waiting for them to falter, and it would soon have its chance at a slaughter.

"Very curious," muttered Jabeth. Gareck looked at him questioningly as the group exchanged startled glances.

"The spirit of the aura resonates like two beating hearts, both having their high and lows. Two spirits beating within the same aura. Very curious indeed."

"Jabeth," began Gareck, "Your curiosities have come very close to killing us all in the past. Can you please measure this creature in a level of threat, because we are going to have to sleep soon, and I don't wish to wake up as breakfast."

The Monk frowned very slightly, a dramatic expression for the likes of him.

"The aura is dark... but I feel no malevolence. I expect no open hostility, but we know nothing of what this creature is. If we are not careful, it may decide to kill us if tempted or provoked for whatever reasons."

"And if it does decide to kill us..." Gareck let the question hang in the air.

"Then it would prove a difficult task staying alive," answered Jabeth emotionlessly and with a blank look. Everyone of Gareck's party winced slightly, and even Rayden rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

"Very interesting indeed..."

"You have got to be one of the most touched in the head Monks out there, old man," Rin mumbled angrily with a twitch in her eye. Rayden laid a calming hand on her shoulder.

"We would have to second that opinion." Anna and Nell said flatly, eyebrows raised at the old monk. Darren was frowning at him quizzically.

"We can discuss Jabeth's unethical curiosities later," said Narcysia over the banter. "Right now we need to find someplace defendable where we can rest." The acrobat turned to look at Gareck.

"Lets move ahead," the young warrior said after a minute. "Perhaps we can find a decent place up ahead."

"Yes, with a nice blazing hearth," said Anna.

"And four poster beds," continued Nell.

"Perhaps a pretty maid for Darren." Anna added.

"I can be a maid," finished Nell. The two began giggling as Darren began opening and closing his mouth soundlessly, staring wide eyed at the twins.

"Nock in off," said Gareck in a sighing grumble.

The group continued on, Anna and Nell making quips about how if there were not enough beds that Gareck and Narcysia could share while they bunked up with Darren.

"There might not be enough room though, and I hear Gareck thrashes in his sleep," said Nell.

"It's okay, we can huddle real close with Darren, and Narcysia is flexible enough for Gareck..."

The two stopped talking and watched silently as Narcysia flipped her knife end-over-end into the air and caught it again, repeating the process as the two stared on silently. The twins silenced, Darren followed on red-faced looking slightly abashed.

The minutes ticked by with the steady slapping rhythm of leather against damp stone pulling them into a hypnotic determination. Finally, with what seemed to be hours later, they came upon the first real door they had seen since they entered the tunnels.

"Jabeth?" Gareck asked as the companions stood cautiously in front of the worn, wood and iron door.

"The creature has departed from my senses," the Monk answered.

"Is there anything else beyond here?" Rin asked, drawing her bow. Jabeth just continued to frown at the door.

"Jabeth?" Gareck asked again after a few moments.

"I can't tell." Jabeth stated, confusion actually breaking the features on his calm face. "Beyond here... everything..."

"Everything what?" Narcysia asked.

"Darkness," answered the monk.

"Of course we know its dark," began Rin, but Jabeth interrupted her.

"No," said the monk. "My powers are blinded. Darkness," he finished with a slightly troubled expression.

Everyone remained silent for a long time. Jabeth's powers had not always been completely accurate in certain situations, but they had always provided insight to what lay ahead. Never before had those powers been blinded. And never before had Gareck ever seen Jabeth look troubled, no matter how minutely it was.

Drawing his sword, Gareck faced the door. "There is only forward," he muttered, then placed his hand on the latch. The latched click free and the door creaked open, light from the torches spilling into the door's entranceway. Cautiously, the companions stepped forward.

*EDIT* Part 2 added

The light from the torches strained to push back the encompassing darkness, and a atmosphere of uneasiness settled over the group. The darkened stone floors were stained and worn, and the walls ran left and right from the entranceway and out of sight.

"Light up and spread out," Gareck said silently, raising his own unlit torch to light it against Narcysia's. "But don't wander off and stay in a circular formation. Lets start at the right and move along the wall."

Without a word, everyone fell into formation, trying to maximize their torchlight but not moving to far out of reach from anyone else. The room held an atmosphere of darkness like nothing they felt before. Sense dictated that it was no more then their nerves, but experience and intuition said otherwise.

Gareck and his companions had been to many dark blighted lands throughout their adventuring together, and had slain or seen just about every dark creature the realms had to offer. They knew enough about the nature of monsters and the undead to know that though they were very dangerous, superstition and fear had inflated the legends over time. They also knew enough to know when they were facing something truly wrought of evil, and that evil aura seemed to seep from the walls of this decrepit place.

As the companions walked, the shadows seemed to race along the floor, retreating from the light, but still resisting it with all the power of its unnatural evil.

"This place is cursed." said Jabeth as he watched the darkness slide away unnaturally, tentacles of shadow trying to cling to the floors as if with a will of its own.

"This place is forsaken by the light and it accosts me at every turn," Jabeth continued, the flickering light of the torch making him look grim. "We should not have come."

The party stopped and looked at Jabeth for a moment. In all their travels, despite how many foes they faced, Jabeth had never seemed afraid, not in the slightest. Yet here he was, looking as uneasy of any of them. Gareck did not like it, not one bit.

"Perhaps we should retreat and think of a proper plan," Gareck began but was interrupted by a small gasp. Narcysia had pushed on slightly more ahead then everyone else. Now she stood there, looking down at the corner of the wall they had just reached.

Gareck and the others move ahead slightly to catch up, and what they saw made them stop dead. In the corner lay a group of mangled corpses and skeletons. Five corpses piled side-by-side with each other, and dozens of skeletal and severely deteriorated corpses lay broken and slashed around them, as if they had risen up to fight the living.

Even as the companions began to first take in the view, the darkness seemed to thicken, clinging to the flesh and bone of the dead; it seemed to writhe up from the ground to be absorbed into macabre assortment of corpses.

They began to move.

Thrashing and broken corpses began to raise from the floor, hollow eye sockets taking on a sickly red glow. Mournful moans passed through their lips and bones clanked together sickeningly. A fetid smell wafted over the companions, and the dark aura flowed through the veins and joints of the rising dead.

Very few things could bring a corpse back to life. The most common method was of a dark magic user empowering a corpse to do its bidding. But what was happening here was different. Despair and hate seemed to exude from the very stones, and an aura so evil thrived in its pain, bringing the dead back to life with every ounce of hatred they had ever felt. The companions knew that to die here was to encounter the same fate of a trapped and infected soul.

Garek only hesitated for an instant, then his sword was flashing free of its sheath and he was slashing away at the undead. Sword and torch arced gracefully to take undead heads and set the corpses ablaze.

At first Gareck thought it strange that he was fighting alone. Where were his companions? But out of the corner of his eyes he could see them spread out, fighting with abandon as undead closed in from all directions.

Rin had abandoned her bow, practically useless against the undead, and had drawn her short sword. She fought back-to-back with Rayden, the barbarian taking massive swipes with his brutal axe as Rin dipped and ducked under his shoulders and back, fighting off anything that got to close to her beloved.

Anna and Nell seemed to dance in and out to each other, slicing with precision and deadly grace as they twirled around Darren as he sliced away with abandon, crushing skulls and taking heads.

The heads were the focal point of all the spiritual energies for the evil beings, and Gareck's companions used there knowledge effectively.

As Garecks sword arced downward to split a weak, zombifed skeleton down the middle, he saw Narcysia wading in and out of the undead corpses, slashing out with her ninja blade to take bits and chunks of flesh and bone as she chanted under her breath.

Jabeth to was chanting silently, punching out with jeweled gauntlets to crush an undead as it moved forward to strike. Bringing his leg in and pivoting on his left foot, he side kicked an oncoming zombie and it shattered apart in chunks of bone and flesh, its pieces bombarding other undead as they continued to advance slowly but ever onward.

Gareck brought his sword in and focused on his inner powers, the strength and light he had found in his many years training as a paladin. He found the glow he was searching for and reached for it in his mind.

He felt nothing.

The power was there, but he could not touch it. The paladins at the order had always said that is was amazing that he with a so restless - and what they attributed to sometimes selfish - mind, could touch the element of light. Well now, for whatever reason, something was constricting that power, holding it back. Never the one to despair though, Gareck pushed onward, bringing his sword up in side-to-side slashes, cutting away the undead that stood before him.

Narcysia leaped over him, a rain of steel and wires shooting down at the zombies below to wrap around their necks. As she land, she wrapped the steel cords in her gauntleted hand and twirled as she pulled back. The wires parted flesh like butter and sliced through brittle bone, and three undead heads hit the floor.

Jabeth reached the crescendo of his chant and his hand shot forward. His veins glowed dully and a blast of power shot from his palm, destroying a single undead but dying away without making much damage. The monk was panting hard and he drew back.

"My power is repressed and I feel as if I am being drained," said the Monk. "I will not be able to aid you much longer."

"Don't worry old man," Rin said as she dived to the side, Rayden swiping out to dispatch her attacker. "We are almost finished here anyways."

"Gareck," Narcysia cried out. "Look!"

Gareck followed her pointing hand and looked. Where she pointed, and everywhere else where the undead had fallen, flesh and bone were knitting back together as tentacles of darkness writhed out from the fallen to reconnect the lost appendages. Rayden had to pull Rin away as one graped for her from the behind, and everyone was forced to fall back into a small circle.

"No wonder the last group was taken out so easily," Gareck mumbled to himself.

"We have more coming," Darren said as he pointed out beyond the closing undead. A hint of panic in his face.

"And more," Jabeth said, almost out of breath. "I can feel the creature from before closing in on us. Its aura is strong and hostile."

"How quickly the tides turned," Narcysia muttered bitterly.

"Will we be able to get back to the door?" asked Rin.

"Its our only chance," replied Gareck.

"No," Jabeth said flatly, pointing out in the direction of the door. "Its here."

Gareck raised his sword and said in a growling voice, "Fight to the last!" But even as he began to step forward to the oncoming undead, they were blown apart in an explosion of black fire. Gareck paused as a few other stubmling zombies were sliced clean through and a figure stepped into the torchlight.

"What are you fools waiting for?" Cutter said angrily. "Run!" And then he was sprinting away to the other end of the room, slicing from side-to-side in lightning quick slashes of his dark, glowing sword.

The companions paused for a second, staring at each other unbelievingly, then quickly followed their unexpected savior.

They closed the distance, slashing away at undead while following Cutter's continual encouragements of "this way you fools!" Finally, they reached the other end of the dark room and followed him through a wrought-iron door.

With a resounding clang, the door slammed shut and Cutter let the latch fall in place. The companions slouched over gasping as Cutter calmly sheathed his sword and examined them. Finally, Gareck looked up into the man's blank face.

"Glad to see you took my advice and stayed away from this unholy place." he said with a grim smile as he looked down on Gareck. "I knew you were a smart one."

Suddenly, Gareck wished he was back in with the undead.

Finished with this chapter. Look forward to the next one where I might actually describe just what in the hell is going on! Yay plot development!

PS. I may be re-editing this in the future. I was kinda tired and didn't have time to really proof read or the energy to do a 100% job.

Good Morning Gamers!

2009-11-14T11:44:00Z

The sun is rising, the birds are singing, and a gray dawn is settling over my little mountain home. I would say more, but I'm feeling a bit hallucinogenic and I gotta go to bed! I will leave you with this question before I depart though.

How many, of the very significant many gamers out there, end up staying up till ungodly hours, for not only gaming, but because the night is peaceful?

Day and night, I like both, but I find that when the world sleeps, I thrive. How about you?

Short story: Black Gate, chapter 2

2009-11-04T03:15:33Z

The second installment of the short story I am posting here on GameInformer. For those of you who are following, I hope you are enjoying it so far. And I hope you enjoy this next chapter...

                     Black Gate

                                                                                    Chapter 2
                               'Secrets In the Darkness'

"Gareck, down!"

Gareck ducked as a pasty white and clawed hand shot over his head. Brandishing his sword, the young man thrust the blade into a dark overhang; the source of the claw. A fountain of black blood sprayed from his sword's impact point, further blackening his dark hair. Jerking his sword free, an emaciated corpse of one of the creatures fell from the shadows of the overhang and into the torchlight of the party.

Gareck nodded in Narcysia's direction, a subtle thanks to the deadly skilled ninja for saving him once more; once again putting his name on a list of countless debts. Narcysia nodded in return and drew her knives.

"At least a dozen from the east tunnel, and half a dozen more from behind," she said, giving her knives a twirl. In the torchlight, her jade green eyes seemed to glow with a maniacal delight. Gareck didn't think this was a trick of the light.

"Make that fourteen from the east tunnel," Jabeth said calmly, eyes closed in passive concentration. His ebony skin seemed to blend in and out with the shadows as they fought with the torches' flickering light. "And five from behind."

The creature's screeching yowls echoed off the damp, labyrinthine walls, making it seem as if they were surrounded and about to be overrun by scores of the decrepit things. The party knew better, however. They had spent the last nine hours in the labyrinthine tunnel system, and they had quickly learned the creatures tactics and how to decipher their number and movements.

"What do you think, Jabeth?" asked Gareck. "Do we take the west tunnel and look for a defendable position, or do we hold ourselves up in here? "

"No." Jabeth said calmly. "Creatures coming from both the east and south tunnels... but there is a dark aura ahead in the west tunnel... I can't make it out."

The Monk spoke as calmly as ever, but this news worried the rest of the group. There was very few things Jabeth could not sense, and whatever new creature lay ahead in the western tunnel, Gareck would feel much better not facing it with a score of these emaciated, slimy creatures on their heels.

"Alright," Gareck said. "Lets move to face the creatures in the south tunnels. That way we are on familiar ground and don't have to face the possibility of a three-way assault."

Darren was the first into action, unsheathing his sword and setting off in a light trot down the musty corridor. Anna and Nell were close behind, making light-hearted quips about how manly Daren looked like from the back. Then went Rayden, silently balancing his battle-axe on his shoulders with a look of boredom and closely followed behind by Rin. Narcysia and Jabeth went ahead of Gareck, and the young warrior followed, keeping a tight guard on the rear.

The screeching kept getting louder, and soon the soft slap of flesh on stone could be heard as the creatures came closer to them. Gareck was just making the assumption that the creatures in the east tunnel were now making their way into their tunnel when they made contact with the ones from the south.

Jabeth had been right in guessing the creatures number, and the five quickly tried to crowd in on the party. However, Gareck's party outnumbered the creatures, and had considerably more tactful awareness as well. When the first of the creatures charged forward, it was swiftly confronted by one of Rin's stinging arrows.

Rin was a skilled archer, one of the best Gareck had ever met, for what she lacked in experience, she was able to make up for in sheer cunning and determination. A characteristic most of the members in Gareck's party had. A fact that he was reminded of as his party burst into motion.

The first of the creatures took an arrow in the face. Stunned, but not completely defeated, the pale thing clawed at its face with yellowish, deformed claws. Darren took the distracted thing's head and claws with a lightning-quick slash.

More driven by rage and hunger then anything else, the remaining four creatures charged on unabated. As the second closed in on him, Darren dropped to one knee and slashed out as Rin's second arrow took the third in the chest.

Using the distraction, Anna and Nell ran down the tight corridor and vaulted off of Darren's shoulders. The two girls came down a flurry of flowing daggers on the stunned creatures, and within moments they were down.

As the remaining two creatures pressed forward, Anna and Nell fell away and cart-wheeled to the opposite walls. The creatures followed the movement, thus were taken unaware as Rayden decided to introduce himself and his monstrous axe.

Coming down in an overhead swing that scraped the top of the eight foot high ceiling, the brutish barbarian cleaved one of creatures down the middle. The other creature, as it turned to regard the barbarian with glowing red eyes, took an arrow in the neck. Darren darted around the Rayden's broad back and stabbed the creature through the chest. As he jerked the blade free, black blood showering him in the face, Rayden spun with his axe to take the thing's head.

The team had successfully maneuvered in and eliminated the current threat. There was no time for celebration however, and the team began a steady trot down the tunnel as remaining fourteen closed in behind them.

Rin shot an arrow off into the darkness, and a yowl of pain followed closely behind it as leading creature came into the torchlight's limited radius. Rin shot again at the leading creature, and then once more before it had time to recover. It fell dead as the remaining thirteen stumbled over its fallen body.

They came three abreast, for that was all the limited space of the tunnel corridor would allow, and throwing knives and arrows quickly blossomed in the lead three's bodies as Rin and Narcysia desperately worked to even the odds before the creatures overtook them. Two of the creatures fell away before Gareck called for a stop. Then he and Jabeth turned to face the oncoming tide.

Gareck slashed at the lead creatures claws and took them from its arms as Jabeth settled into meditative stance; fist in palm held out in front of his chest. Rin shot another arrow and struck another of the oncoming creatures while Gareck finished the one that he had wounded.

Gareck moved forward, slashing at the closest creature while an arrow whizzed past his head. Narcysia, tall and lithe, rolled under Gareck's leading slash, and she thrust her blade through the back of the creatures chest. The two pulled away from the dying creature and slashed out at the one that had been wounded by Rin's arrow. As the fifth creature fell and died, Gareck and Narcysia fell back, Jabeth came to the crescendo of his silent chant.

His veins glowed white in his ebony frame, and his eyes shown with the brilliance of a white star. As he reached the height in his power, the usually silent Jabeth let out a yell that shook the walls, and contracted his muscles into one swift, forward palm thrust. A shockwave of light erupted from his palm and shot down the corridor, striking one of the creatures in the chest. It exploded in a fountain of black gore and sent the other creatures tumbling away. Then came the maelstrom.

Narcysia ran forward, slashing out at the bowled over creatures with her short blade and moving away before they had time to rcover. Gareck and Jabeth followed close behind; Gareck struck out at the distracted creatures with stinging blows from his long sword, and Jabeth punched out with his jeweled, gauntleted hands. Where Jabeth's punches landed, bones were crushed; and where Gareck's sword arced, limbs were severed.

For a few hectic moments, the order of the parties initial stance was forgotten as the rushed into the creatures, finishing them off before they had a chance to recover. But within seconds, it was over, and the party, panting and gasping, had once again taken up its defensive positions.

"I had wondered whether or not that tactic would work with such a large number of enemies." Jabeth mused.

"You... didn't... know...?" Gareck said between gasps for breath.

"I figured that statistically it may have worked, but I hadn't known for certain."

"Wonderful..." Narcysia muttered, then caught Gareck's eye. The two began to laugh as Jabeth regarded them stoically.

"I think all that glowy stuff in your veins is messing with your brain, old man," Rin said, returning her horn bow to its case. Rayden had strapped his axe to his back and walked over, his face solemn and bored now that there was no adrenaline pumping through his veins. Black blood stained his usually blonde hair and Rin frowned up at him. Anna and Nell looked at the pair and began whispering in each other's ears while giggling.

"What are you two laughing at?" Rin asked, her ace reddening.

"Oh, nothing," Anna said.

"I was just telling Anna how great Rayden looked with black hair," replied Nell. Rin's eyes narrowed dangerously and Rayden gave a stoic grunt.

"I don't think now is the time, girls," Darren began, but Anna interrupted him.

"And Darren looked pretty good back there too. Gutting that thing and smiling while blood sprayed across his face. Gave me the excited chills.

The twins began laughing as Darren's face turned a bright red and he began to wipe even harder at the blood stains on his face.

"Enough." Gareck said, silencing the party as he regarded Jabeth. The monk was kneeling down, examining the corpse of one of the creatures.

"What is it, Jabeth?" he asked.

"I've been wondering for some time now, but now I'm sure." When Jabeth stood, he was holding a rusted locket in his hand.

"I felt it, but I still wasn't sure, since I had never seen these creatures before." Jabeth held the locket out for everyone to see. It had a well drawn depiction of a beautiful, long haired women, and another picture that was nearly corroded away of what might have been a man.

"Whatever these creatures are." Jabeth continued, face as stoic as ever. "They were once human."

Suddenly, the labyrinth seemed a much darker and lonelier place.

Short story: Black Gate, chapter 1

2009-11-04T02:10:26Z

Well, tonight I have become level 5, and to celebrate this, I have decided to start a short story for my Blog. This is merely the rough draft of the first chapter, so no complaining! (Though constructive criticism is welcome.) So without any further ado, I present to you...

Black Gate

(one of the most over-used titals for anything, ever!)

                                                                                   Chapter 1
                                                             'In the Black Boar Inn'

    A flurry of wind and rain accompanied the party of eight as they walked into the 'Black Boar' inn. Gareck looked up and regarded the inn from beneath his dripping hood. A few of the patrons had turned to regard the group as they had entered the building, but had quickly become uninterested and resumed their consternation. The inn was modestly large and looked in good shape, a fireplace blazed merrily in the hearth along the left wall, and the inn keeper, large in girth, stood behind the bar wiping down a few mugs.

    Gareck nodded his head and the group followed him to the empty seats at the bar.

    "May I get you anything." asked the inn keeper as the four took a seat. They were wet to the bone, and puddles of water were quickly forming under their dripping cloaks.

    "Just information," Gareck replied as he removed his hood. His wet black hair clung to his sun darkened forehead. His sea blue eyes sparkled with confidence.

    "You'll not find it." The innkeeper said with a sigh as he regarded the young man, "No one has returned from that fool's errand."

    "Aye, but we're not no one," replied the young man, overconfidence brimming in his bright face.

    The inn keeper gave a little sigh and a slight smile. "My name is Bren." he said offering a hand "How may I help you?"

    The young man smiled in turn and clasped the inn keepers hand. "I'm Gareck. Vampire slayer, werewolf hunter, and all around monster killer," Gareck said with a smile. "And this is my crew," He flourished his arms wide to the party around him.

    "Well, you seemed to have lead a busy life for one so young," said Bren with a smile. His smiling face turned grim though, as he looked at the eight. "Too young to be wasting your lives on something so foolish."

    "You still worry about us?" Gareck grinned, then he looked to the man on his right. "This is my trusted friend Jabeth," He said as the man removed his hood. Jabeth's long brown hair fell bellow his broad shoulders, and he wore a grim and determined expression on his long, scarred face. "He has led us out of many a tight situation before."

    "This," and he continued on down the list. The young and brave Daren. The beautiful and deadly Rin. The skillful and witted twins, Anna and Nell. The silent and strong Raden.

    "And this," he said finally coming to the last, a young dark haired women with a sly grin. "This is Narcysia, an assassin so skilled she can even take a werewolf unawares."

    "Now that I'd like to see." came a voice to the right of the party. a hooded stranger had taken his seat there and none had noticed.

    "Ah, Cutter" Bren said, looking at the uninvited guest. "Didn't see you come in"

    "That's because I never left." the hooded man said in a sincere voice. A little shiver traveled down Bren's spine, and even Gareck and the others felt a little discomforted.

    "Just who are..." Narcysia began but was cut off by the stranger.

    "Hear this." he said, turning to Gareck (he felt his heart skip a beat, behind him the twins grasped the hilts of their blades.) "Doors have been opened that should have been kept closed. Secrets have been stirred that should have been left alone." He drew close to Gareck, everyone leaned away. "Things have been awoken that should have been left to slumber."

    He drew away and headed for the door. "If you search for that lost city, you will die." then he was gone with another flurry of rain and wind as he left the inn.

    "Who was he?" Jabeth asked Bren a few moments later, his gruff voice tight with worry. "His aura...."

    "We don't know his true name." Bren said, taking a furtive glance to a door to his right. "We call him Cutter though."

    "How'd he come by a name like that?" Gareck asked.

    "Eight years ago, our most beloved mayor took an interest to the legacy of the town. He learned of a great network of tunnels below the city. Interested, he sent men down into the tunnels to explore it's possible hidden value. None of them returned, but something else did."

    "It wasn't much longer till they started coming out of the sewers, killing many in the night. We would find the victim's bodies in the morning, mangled and half eaten. We could only tell the victims by who had gone missing in the night."

    He took a deep breath and continued. "The town pulled together and set up a curfew, but thing's only got worse. You see, they began to get bold. There were buildings, like this one here, built at the founding of the town. They were built over secret passage ways into the tunnels. And the creatures, they would start breaking into the buildings during the night, what we would find in the morning was indescribable."

    "We were lost, didn't know what we could do to stop this madness. Then he came. He was just passing through, looking for a place to stay when he came to my inn. I told him of the situation, that he should get out of town right away, but he refused. He bought a room for the night and by the next morning he was gone, bed made just like it was the night before."

    "I figured he hadn't taken my advice and went out into the town. I was saddened that he hadn't listened, and I was expecting reports of another body found on the streets. But surprisingly there were none. No killings that night."

    "The next night came and I still had heard nothing of the stranger and his gear was still in his room. I figured I'd wait and I prepared myself for that night. I was devastated to hear that the A'lenden's child had gone missing in that night, and I feared the worst. But they found the child climbing one of the trees in the square. No murders that night."

    "We supposed that the locks that we had put on all the lower gates had stopped them form getting in. But we knew that that hadn't stopped them before. Well it happened that one of the town guards was passing by one of these gates and he heard a knock. He gathered some of the other guards around and they knocked back. They then heard a series of complicated knocks that could only be human, and even though they were afraid they knew they had to open the door."

    Bren gave a wry little laugh at the memory before he continued. "Well out stepped that mysterious stranger, blurry eyed and covered in blood from head to toe, and surrounded by many of the dead creatures."

    "They were some of the fiercest things I'd ever have seen, and there must have been a score there alone. Pale white in the sun, they were human shaped but they were anything but. With long yellow serrated fangs, claws, and horrible red eyes. They were hairless and had webbed like feet and the makings of a tail."

    "It seems that he had went into my cellar at night and found one of the secret passages into the lower tunnels. He then proceeded to search for all the passages he could find and slay any of the creatures that got in the way. When he got out he pointed out every house that had a passage and helped lock it up. When he got to mine, he had half the town behind him."

    "He located the passage, but so had some of the creatures. When he moved to the archway they came flying at us in a ravenous hunger you wouldn't believe. They almost got to us too, with their serpent-like speed long, limber limbs. But he was there... Cutter. In the most dazzling sword work I have ever seen he cut those creatures to pieces in a matter of moment's. We barely had time to scream."

    "After he locked it up, he paid me enough gold for two nights, and left town, still covered in blood and before we could even thank him. And every now and then he would just show up in town."

    Gareck and his group had just sat there, soaking in the inn keeper's story. "When was the last time you saw him?" Daren asked, excitement blurting out in his young voice.

    "Before tonight?" Bren asked. "About a fortnight ago."

    "Fortnight!" Rin exclaimed, "But he said he never left."

    "Yes, I suppose he used the cellar passage to get into the tunnels." Bren said, scratching his head.

    "He was down there for a fortnight?." Jabeth mumbled, caressing his chin.

    "Well if he can do it so can we!" Gareck said, his determination on the matter redoubling. "Will you show us the passage?"

    "What?" Bren snapped out of his story telling mode and right into righteous anger. "I will never do such a thing."

    "Well," Anned piped in with a little smile on his face.

    "We'll find it anyhow." Neel said, grinning like a boy

    "Or we will just use the main entrance to the sewers." Gareck said. "Whatever you do, we're getting in those."

    "You'll never find the city!" Bren said, not backing down an inch.

    "Speaking of, may you tell us about the city." Gareck asked.

    "And why should I help you?" Bren spluttered.

    "Like we said, we're going with or without your help, wouldn't it help us 'stay alive' if you told us about what we're getting into.

    Bren sat their spluttering not knowing what to do.

    "Fine." he said after a few moments. "I'll tell ya."

    "Well the archives only record about the city states that it was a Dwarven stronghold, built deep under ground. No man knows it's name or what happened to it. and the dwarves refuse to speak of it. The only thing that we know was that our founders built our town over the cities entrance for one bright idea or another. Legend speaks of some pact with the Dwarves."

    "The tunnel system is far underground, past the sewers. Our founders sealed it off and guarded it till after numberless generations our beloved mayor decided to send an expedition to explore it. Then all this started to happen, and a few months after Cutter closed the passages people started to spread the word and the years in-between now and then have been filled with young warriors with big dreams of making a name for themselves journeying here to search for the lost city. All of which have not returned in a single piece of healthy state of mind. Understand?" The innkeeper finished in a rather petulant tone, his chubby face bright red with the speed in which he recanted the tale.

    "I understand." Narcysia said. "I understand you've told us everything we already knew."

    "Listen." Bren started but was cut off by Gareck. "Our choice." was all he said.

    "Fine then." Bren said reluctantly, anger filling his voice. "The only other thing I know is that the entrance is in the west tunnels below the sewer. That's all."

    "And?" Gareck persisted.

    "And I'll show you the passage. But only if you promise to stay the night in the inn and re-supply in the morning. if you kids are foolish enough to journey to that forsaken place at least do it prepared"
    "Sounds fine to me." Gareck said.

    "Yes, yes." Bren sighed. "Take whatever rooms you want that are vacant, they're free." and with that he got up and left without another word. Jabeth, with a slight bow, imitated the stocky innkeeper and left for the stairs that led to the rooms.

    "Well," Gareck said, looking around at the remaining group. Lets get some rest." then he followed Jabeth up the stairs, the others close at his heals.

     The Inn's patrons, having watched the whole confrontation, began to talk in hushed voices. By the morning, everyone would know of the next fools who planned to enter the tunnels; and know the exact number of coffins that needed to be built.

*EDIT. A few small changes in names and details. Part 2 coming right up.

Nostalgic Memoir; the Chainsaw.

2009-11-03T20:28:23Z

Throughout gaming history, one simple weapon has cemented itself to the very foundations of the shooters genre. This weapon, as you all may know, is the chainsaw.

Whether chopping off a zombies head or slicing through some poor guy's sternum in a fountain of glistening blood and chunks of flesh, the chainsaw is the melee weapon of choice for most gamers. It may not always be the most powerful, or even practical for the situation, but no one can deny the maniacal and twisted delight that comes with gory spattering of blood, flesh, and bone when you slice into some unsuspecting player's collarbone. And despite the bulky size and rattling chains, this gas powered joy-toy has and can be utilized as a very effective stealth weapon.

The chainsaw has seen many variants of is classical form over the years. Taking on laser blades or being attached to guns, anyone who has ever dropped into Gears of War and sliced a Locus from neck to groin before unloading sixty rounds into another's face will happily agree that the union gun-and-saw is a match made in heaven, (and has certainly sent many a character's avatar to just that destination.) But more then a psychopath's form of brutal and twisted entertainment, the chainsaw is a symbol - an icon, if you will - of dually taring into gaming's nostalgic past and carving a way into a new and brighter future. (Soaked in bloody pixels though it may be.)

For those of us that remember the nostalgic past, and for those of us that look forward to that brighter future, the chainsaw shall always be there to clear our way to glorious and bloody triumph. A symbol of peace, justice, and joy... that are systematically sawed down in macabre savagery. The chainsaw will always remain close to our hearts... and other vital organs....

Nostalgic Memoir; The Annoying Fairy Creatures of the RPG Universe

2009-11-02T03:42:16Z

If you've ever played an RPG/Fantasy game, you understand where I'm coming from. Whether it be some flying PygmyPuff, mutant monstrosity, an enraging, 'navigator,' or some harmless, cute and furry, large eyed, and long eared freakish mouse kin, we've all had to deal with these Characters to some extant.

"Magical and enchanting creatures," they've been called. "lightens the hearts of all those that are lucky enough to chance a glance at its adorable, puffy visage," it has been said. These creatures are perhaps one of the most loveable creations of no-one's caring known to man!

They are in fact, without a doubt, some of the most enraging and hated characters in the fantasy gaming universe! Yet... No one can deny that without them, the games in question would never have been as good. At their core, they made the game what it was and were why we loved it. Their very presence is one that brings a strong feeling of nostalgia to us all. Don't understand? Allow me to clarify.

Well... those of you who have encountered different variants of these charming creatures in various role-playing and fantasy based games, you will also note that they make most absolutely hilarious forms of target practice. You can punt the little freaks great distances, shoot them with arrows or magic guns, and slash or beat them down with melee weapons of all varieties! And they never cease to disappoint when they explode or die, or are hurtled long distances through the air and experience blunt force trauma in the most delightful ways!

For those of them for various reasons could not be harmed in delightful ways, their incessant complaints, irritating instructions, and enraging, squeaky voices will always be the needle in our arse that drives us forward to the ranting and raving end! To us, they were the ignition to our rage filled adrenaline. When we were feeling gloomy or didn't want to finish our quest, they were our ire inducing incentive move forward to the bitter end. For better or for worse, they were always there to ignite our wrath and set us at an insatiable desire to move ever onwards. (Even though when more then once this hunger and ire had led us to our untimely end.

As for the other fairy creatures of fantasy, they will always provide enjoyment to those who delight in the ardent and grisly destruction of cute, little, and harmless creatures of the fantasy gaming world. In closing; die you atrocious flying runt fur ball of a freakish, fairy, pigmy puff! Die!

Gaming Heroes; Why All of RPG's Non-Player Chacters Hate Us.

2009-11-02T03:40:52Z

Through the avatar of heroes that wield other worldly powers and depressing back stories, we RPG players have saved many a worlds in this gaming genre's universe. But the truth be told, the digitally encrypted and oppressed/threatened peoples of these realms hold much animosity with us. Lets analyze why.

For one, nine times out of ten, are communication skills in these games are crap. We often can only grunt and scream, or shake our head yes or no, Is this our fault? No! Our avatars have experienced many hardships and betrayals, of course our social abilities are going to be zero! But this isn't our major flaw, it is just one of those things that contribute the problem in the whole.

The fact is, friends, that we have zero respect for our pixilated brethren. Often we enter their homes unannounced and uninvited, breaking their various decor and steeling their valuables, even when at an inn we have to raid through their things and steel any item not bolted to the floor; like those irritating people that go to an expensive hotel and make off with their bathrobes and mini shampoo!

To top it off, we even invade their privacy and personal livelihood, even going so far as reading their minds from time-to-time, for no better reason then that we can! Heck, we can't even leave the livestock alone; tormenting their chickens and milking their cows! There once was a time where a man's personal right to their cow's utters was a sacred thing, but not anymore!

And lets all face it. There have been more then one occasion where we were the secret cause to a world's impending doom, and we had no choice then try and save it! We have all unleashed evil and/or uncontrollable powers in the realms from time-to-time. And we have all awoken a dragon or demon from its deep slumber to torment a village or people.

It would seem that being a hero has some pretty high collateral damage and costs to the people we are trying to save. Its good that their so understanding sometimes... at least until the threat is over and the game has ended. I dread to think what they do to the protagonists off-screen after we have relinquished control...