《Immortality Bites (litrpg apocalypse)》 Chapter one: Me vs my cat "I, like a moderate part of the population, was asleep when the apocalypse happened. Luckily unlike most of the other people with pets, woke up before my house cat could kill me." --- Beginnings of a legend, Erick the Immortal. Erick was having, quite possibly, the strangest dream he had ever had. He had read quite a few litrpgs and system apocalypse novels in his life, but never had he had a dream about them. The window floating before him was asking him simple questions that sounded like filler for a backstory. "Is this... lucid dreaming?" He wondered out loud. Then shrugged, filling out the questionnaire with information for his favorite roleplaying OC. He shuddered in mild self-directed horror at the chuunibyou of his teenage self when he made this character, but what else were dreams for? A powerful immortal who agonized over past mistakes, wrestled with his inner monster and took out his rage on those who would cross him. Pure edge lord content. After a few minutes the questions ended and he read back over his answers. A roar in the distance startled him and his eyes snapped open. Looking around the floating screen was still in front of him.
Answers have been confirmed, Please wait.
"What?" he mumbled and then a low rumbling growl drew his eyes to the top of his dresser. Sitting on top where his TV should have been was a feline beast the size of a cougar with familiar coloring. "A-Akira?" he whispered wide eyed. The felines growl intensified, yellow eyes glowing lightly in the darkness. He dove to his left, off the side of the bed just as the big cat pounced, "BAD CAT!" he yelled as he wrestled with the blanket wrapped around him. He freed himself just in time raises his arm to block the finger long fangs of the cat from reaching his throat. The cats claws sank into his shoulder painfully as it ripped a chunk out of his arm. Erick screamed as his blood sprayed from the missing chunk of his arm and began to well up around the claws sunk into his shoulders. His vision began to turn red and his scream became a roar as he reached up and gripped the large cats neck with his uninjured hand. The cat hissed at first but the sound quickly morphed into a gurgle as he began to squeeze. The cat began to rake its back claws, trying to get itself free. Ericks thighs were quickly shredded and the claws in his shoulders also raked down slicing open his chest. He just growled in response and twisted his hand, a crackling snap announcing the breaking of bones in the cats neck. The cat collapsed on top of him like a puppet with its strings cut. Erick just lay there, breathing heavily as blood pumped out of his multitude of wounds. "what the FUCK?!" he said, as his eyes scanned over the monstrous face of his once tiny house cat. A moment later a small window appeared with the wordsLove this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Would you like to Loot? Y/N
He stared at the window for another few minutes before warily thinking ''Y.'' another window popped up quickly replacing the previous one.
You have received: a pristine mutated cat pelt three mutated cat claws a mutated cat fang
The body on top of him burst into pixelated light and a neatly folded pelt, a string with three claws tied on it, and a three inch long fang fell on to his bloody chest. "ah great, perfect, wonderful" he grumbled, his vision finally lost the red tint as he began to calm down. He tried to sit up, and his vision quickly began to fade to black. Falling back on to his floor another screen popped up.
Warning! You are bleeding heavily! you lose 10 hp!
Warning! You are bleeding heavily! you lose 10 hp!
Warning! you are at critical health! You are bleeding heavily! you lose 10 hp!
He struggled in vain to try and staunch the bleeding, grabbingly futilely at the blanket. "No! no no no no! shit" He quickly pressed the blanket to his chest watching as the blood soaked through it. Another window popped up, he looked hopeful that it would tell him the bleeding had stopped.
Class creation complete!
"What?" he said, confused at the message he was not expecting. Another window popped up, this one he had been dreading.
Warning! you are at critical health! You are bleeding! you lose 5 hp!
His eyes widened, surprised at how much just covering the wounds had helped. Then a new message popped up that his confused brain barely processed before everything faded to black.
You have died.
Chapter two: epilogue (jk)
You have died.
The first beam of sunlight peaking over the horizon lanced directly into Ericks eyes. He shot up out of his bed screaming, his hands quickly going to the spots where he had been bleeding out to find pristine skin. He looked himself over and realized that even his pajamas, a grey Batman t-shirt and Naruto silk pajama bottoms were just as they should be. A quick look around his room dispelled any delusions that yesterday had been a dream though. His blood was sprayed liberally everywhere. His TV was broken and lying in the floor and the dresser the cat had been crouching on when he woke up was knocked over on its side. The blanket he normally used was still wadded up in the floor drenched in old sticky blood. A quick glance out the window told him that it was very very early in the morning. A small flashing icon finally managed to catch his attention out of the corner of his eye. He pulled up a notification that had seemed less important then the ones about him bleeding out yesterday.
Class Creation Complete!
He stared at it for a second, and then went through a few different iterations of ''character'' ''character sheet'' ''char'' finally succeeding with ''status.''
Name:??Erick Jefferson
Class:??Inheritor of Rage
Level:??1(+)
??????Stats
Might:??4
Agility:??5
Fortitude:??7
Wits:??5
Mind:??6
Will:??6
??????Skills
Mark of Caine(Unique) (rank 1): You carry the mark of a primordial entity. You may activate this mark, or in times of stress or high emotion it may activate itself, to enrage gaining a 50% increase to Might, Agility, and Fortitude. For the duration you will ignore fear, pain and will refuse to die from anything short of catastrophic physical damage. Duration - Variable based on emotional state.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Spontaneous Reincarnation (Mythic)(rank 1): So long as a speck of rage exists in the hearts of humanity the Inheritor will return. Reincarnate at your most recent prime state with the first rays of the sun each day if dead. At current rank, 1 reincarnate point available set as (Bedroom).
He stared at the character sheet for a few minutes. "So, I''m immortal? Well I remember in perfect detail dying yesterday." He said, wincing at a pang of remembered pain. "Apparently being able to ignore fear and pain doesn''t mean I get to skip feeling them. Lovely." He muttered as he read through both his abilities and then went back up to his stats. "Are these good?" he wondered, then focused in on might, after a moment a new screen appeared.
Might - Your physical prowess in terms of torque and muscle density. Human average is 5, Peak condition is 10, average for prime age 7.
"Oh. No. They''re actually terrible. While enraged with my Unique power, I am still weaker then the average twenty-five year old." He complained to himself. Looking through the other stats it seemed the average was five across the board, so at least he wasn''t useless at everything. A thought occurred and he focused in on his mark skill, reading through the details he found that the percentage rounded up. "Oh yeah, that''s broken. No doubt about it." He nodded as he continued to speak to himself out loud. A grumble from his stomach reminded him that he''d been dead all day, and thus had not eaten. "No free rides on meals it seems, I''m immortal, i suppose not needing to eat anymore would be a step too far." he rolled his eyes and made his way into the kitchen. Surprisingly the kitchen still seemed moderately put together, even if the power was out. Feeling the inside of his fridge he sighed in relief, still cold. He quickly made himself cold cut sandwiches and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. "This isn''t gonna last very long anyway, might as well splurge." he mumbled grabbing a soda from the twelve pack on his kitchen floor. "oh gods, the world is ending. Whelp, first order of business, find someplace safer then my apartment to sleep. Long term goals, find a mountain dew factory, and get it running again." He nodded in satisfaction at the plan and went to peak out of his windows through the curtains. The world still looked fairly normal from a distance. It was only on closer inspection that one might notice the stains on the roads and buildings were from blood. Something that looked like the biggest roughest wolf he had ever seen prowled out of an alley, sniffing at a stain on the road. Its muzzle crinkled at the smell and then it reared its head back and howled. Answering sounds echoed out all through the near by sub-division. "ah, I see" he shut the curtain and returned to his sandwich. "I''m going to be waking up in this bedroom a lot." he sighed and finishing his food he stretched and went looking for something worth calling a weapon. Chapter three: Batter up! "Many have asked me over the years, ''Erick, aren''t you worried that you aren''t you anymore? What if each reincarnation is a new person with all your memories?'' My response is simple. We are not our meat suits. With the discovery of divinities, there is quantifiable proof that the system tracks and recognizes souls. A soul transferred into an android is still recognized as the original person, your species might change, but the system still sees the real you. If I was a new person every time I reincarnated, there would be soul fragments of the old me''s everywhere. I''d probably be driving the poor mediums of the area crazy with the amount of me floating around. I''ve died a LOT" --- Erick the Immortal. The first weapon-shaped object Erick found was a crowbar. He hefted it, swung it a few times, and then put it back. "Nope, my arms already tired, curse you weeny physique. Though I guess if I had been more physically minded and taken better care of myself I probably wouldn''t have been having power fantasy dreams. Hmmm, I''m gonna call that a net neutral." He continued to mutter to himself, a lifetime of self-imposed isolation leading him to talk to himself all the time. Rummaging around some more led to the discovery of an old wooden baseball bat. He had originally intended to whittle it down into a wooden sword, but he''d gotten distracted. Let''s be honest, he was also way too lazy for that to have ever actually happened. He''d like to think that he would''ve at least started on it if that new game hadn''t come out. He hefted the bat and swung it a few times, his arm still complained from that earlier exercise with the crowbar, but at least it didn''t get worse. He considered adding some nails or something to it to make it more dangerous, but decided against it. One he was not sure he had any nails in the house; and two, he wasn''t sure he could drive nails through a baseball bat without hurting himself anyway. He also grabbed the leather duster he had bought for cosplay and threw it on. It wasn''t the least bit reinforced, but it was still better than nothing. Peaking back out the window he didn''t see the wolf beast, or anything else. "Where to first," he mumbled as he thought. Turning he noticed a mirror and blinked at his reflection. He was tallish, just under six feet with sandy blonde hair cut short and blue eyes. He was pretty sure if he''d bothered to exercise he might even be considered handsome. Unfortunately, his physique left much to be desired, extra weight in the arms, legs, and waist left him comfortably plump as he liked to claim. While great for cuddling, he wasn''t going to be very impressive in a fight. The house cat had proven that beyond any shadow of a doubt, and if not for his crazy power he would have been a day one casualty. The thought staggered him. He had died.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Everyone else in the world was playing on iron man rules, and most of the people he considered friends probably were not as lucky. He wished fervently that the power was working so he could check the internet. He was startled and turned running to his room to check his phone, only to find it also dead. "oh god, did I forget to charge it, or does electricity not work the same way anymore." He winced at the thought, his dream of refurbishing and running a soda factory now even more ephemeral than it started. "First things first, I need to find someplace more defensible than a third-floor apartment. Right now my options are to barricade the door and jump out the window as a last resort. Broken legs will not make for good running away." He nodded to himself and made his way towards the door. Even getting close to the door made him sweat. Cracking it open he peaked out and gulped at the familiar open-air corridor shadowed in darkness. He didn''t see anything moving, so he cracked the door open a bit more, leaning his head out to look both ways. Nothing. He took a deep breath and stepped outside, bat held at the ready, duster whispering as it brushed against the door frame and itself. He looked around at the other doors on this level and shook his head. He didn''t know his neighbors very well, but it had been a little under twenty-four hours since this had started. He doubted anyone would still be in their apartments if they were alive. People tended to group up when afraid, his best bet was to head towards a police station if he wanted to find others. The thought chilled him, people, especially scared and angry people, were not the safest option. It might have just been his social anxiety talking but he was more willing to take his chances with the mutated animals. At least he''d be expecting it when they tried to kill him. Like the thought prompted it a new message appeared.
Congratulations to everyone who has survived the first 24 hours of system integration! Please be aware that the longer mana saturates the world the higher forms of life it will affect. While larger beasts mutate more slowly, they often become powerful regional bosses! Humanity is now on a clock, you have two more days until level 0 humans begin to mutate as well. Get out there and earn experience!
"wait, we start at level 0? how is that fair?" He grumbled as he glanced back at his character sheet, finally realizing he was level 1 and there was a + beside it. "Oh cool, I guess my cat leveled me up." From behind him, he heard a growl. "I probably should stop talking to myself out loud, huh?" he said as he turned. Chapter four: First Contact "Humanity stands out among the multiverse in a lot of ways, but the biggest way by far is Anthropomorphism. Humans have been taming, keeping, breeding, and domesticating sub-sapient beings since they learned how to walk upright. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, a human won''t apply human-like characteristics to. The system recognized this and a unique kind of magic, called Anthropomorphic Empathy, sometimes shortened to ''Wild Empathy'' or just ''Empathy,'' was created just for them. A full third of humanity is born with an affinity for this magic, sometimes spontaneously manifesting it outside of their system-generated class. The other sapient races quickly learned, when dealing with humans, never underestimate a wild beast or monster, there may be a keen mind directing it from afar." -- Multi-versal guide book, subsection ''Humanity.'' Erick turned around to find a set of large ivory teeth bared in his direction. Those teeth belonged to the largest, most built german shepherd he had ever seen. It stood at the top of the stairwell, staring him down with hackles raised. The dog didn''t look anything like the primeval wolf-like creature he had seen before. This dog looked like the prime that all german shepherds descended from. Easily twice the size of a regular dog, with shiny well-groomed fur, intelligent eyes, and white teeth. A feminine voice spoke over the growls, a little rough from some emotion and trying to hide it. "You probably should. Cujo heard you and alerted me, I was worried he''d found one of those monsters again. Down Cujo, good boy." The dog''s ears pulled forward and its teeth disappeared at the word ''down'' and its tail began to wake at the words ''good boy.'' Coming up the stairs behind it was a woman Erick had only ever seen in passing, she lived on the floor beneath him. She was athletic and blonde, an inch or two taller than him, and tanned from long days out in the sun. She had a swimmer''s physique, well-muscled but not overly large. The few times he had seen her out his window she had been walking her dog, which had been a lot smaller and more friendly-looking than the current Cujo. He stuttered for a second, still jittery from the adrenaline shot, "Y-y-you named hi-him Cujo? Isn''t that like asking him to get put down for attacking someone?" He looked the dog over again and shook his head. Not much of a worry anymore, he wouldn''t be betting on the dog catchers if it came down to a fight. She snorted in response. "We don''t live in the safest part of town even before animals started turning into horror picture versions of themselves. I figured naming him something fierce would keep people from noticing his a big ol'' softy." Cujo brought his head down to sniff the railing near him, after a moment he licked it and then started making gagging sounds. "Also he''s an idiot." She sighed and reached, well not down anymore, over to pet his neck and shoulders. "Yeah, I''m pretty sure the name isn''t necessary anymore. Three-inch long fangs and muscles a tiger would envy are pretty intimidating all on their own." Erick commented and then turned to the woman finally. "Hi, I''m Erick, and I have been unconscious for most of the first day after a less than friendly run-in with my house cat."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. The woman grinned at his words and then nodded, "My name is Tanya. You''re the shut-in from 3c yeah? I''ve heard the neighbors complain about you playing anime music at odd hours in the morning, and yelling at your computer." He winced, "Alright I''m guilty of the music, I was not aware of how thin the walls were when I first moved in. The yelling though, well I was a raid leader for my guild on an MMO. It''s just gonna happen." He smiled sheepishly bringing his free hand up to run it through his hair. This caused Cujo to give him a careful glance, but the dog was obviously well trained and his master wasn''t worried, so he wasn''t. Tanya nodded. "That makes sense, I''ve done a few raids when I was streaming, I had to censor our leader out because he almost got me demonetized." She sighed frustratedly. "Not that I''m going to be doing that anymore I guess. I''m going to miss my followers, they were hilarious and always helped me unwind after work." Erick watched her curiously, "You stream? I don''t recognize you, were you a Vtuber?" Tanya winked at him. "Yup, and I''m not telling you who my character was. I''m not going to get to be her anymore, so best not to let her baggage and adoring fandom follow me in the real world." "That''s, probably smart honestly. I know it''s kind of private and I''m not sure how etiquette is going to work but what is your class? Something to do with Cujo I''m sure, I honestly thought most people got eaten by their pets. I know I almost did." Erick said, as he looked back at the dog, who appeared to be going in for another lick on the railing before Tanya tapped his head. Tanya looked at him sharply for a moment before sighing. "I suppose it doesn''t hurt to tell you, My class is called Pack Alpha. I was told I had an affinity for something called ''Anthropomorphic Empathy'' and it gave me the class. If I succeed at a will check versus a pack animal I can add them to my pack, and I start at wary disposition with pack-oriented beasts and monsters. Normal people seem to start as hostile." She grinned, and there was a flash of something feral in her eyes that made Erick gulp. "That''s impressive. I suppose it makes sense you''d be out with just Cujo when most of the pack hunters will leave you alone. Are you part of a bigger group? or still by yourself?" Erick asked cautiously. He wasn''t against telling her what his class was in return, but if he could avoid it, he would. His class had some glaring weaknesses that people could abuse if he was too free with it. She stared at him for a moment and then shrugged. "The rest of the apartment complex sort of gathered at the Walmart nearby. There''s plenty of non-perishable food there and the doors weren''t that hard to barricade. Now I shared, I''d like some info too. For all I know your class is, serial killer, and I''m gonna have to let Cujo eat you." She said it half-jokingly, but there was steel in her spine like she was preparing to have to do just that. Erick blushed, "I was asleep when we got the questionnaire. My class is a little embarrassing. It gives me an enrage power that reinforces my physical stats, and I have a sort of escape power if anything bad happens to me. It''d be easy to take advantage of if I described it though. Maybe once we get to know each other better?" He smiled hopefully. She mulled it over for a bit and then nodded. "That''s fair, so the names embarrassing huh?" she grinned evilly. "What is it? are you superman? the defender of justice? the chosen one?" she giggled. He shuddered and sighed, "Thank you, it''s good to know it could''ve been worse." Chapter five: Level up! "Possibly the most confusing part of system integration is leveling up. Even with all the pop culture understanding of levels in video games, the question still remained, how should I spend my points? What will spending points unlock? It bugged me so much I petitioned for a tutorial and basic build suggestions to be added for newly integrated planets. Our integration was chaos. I was one of the lucky few who had a starting ability that was a big blinking sign saying ''raise these stats.'' Even then, it took me way too long to understand how important the other stats were." --- Erick the Immortal. Erick was really enjoying the ability to talk to someone besides himself. It had honestly been a long time, even before the apocalypse, since he had last talked to someone in person who shared interests. While the end of the world was a shared experience everyone had nowadays. Being able to reminisce about pre-apocalypse hobbies was a new experience for him. "so, what level are you now? I can''t imagine getting all the way here from the Walmart was a quiet or safe experience." He said curiously. She smiled a little, "Level two, it''s been very hectic. I can mostly avoid the canine monsters, but it seems like the felines really don''t like Cujo, or me, or honestly anything that breaths. I know cats are supposed to be anti-social but this is bordering on psychotic." They both shuddered at their memories of cat encounters. "What about you?" she asked looking at him curiously. Erick smiled and stated proudly "Level 1! not bad for being unconscious for most of yesterday." He trailed off as he brought up his character sheet and notice the bold plus sign by his level. "Oh, I, uh, forgot to spend my points." He facepalmed and focused on the plus. A window popped up informing him he had 2 stat points to spend. "uh, two? wow, that''s really not a lot." he muttered. Tasha nodded, "Yeah I was pretty underwhelmed, but you get a skill point at level two. I''m hoping it''s every even level and not just a low-level gimme to help you stay alive. Oh! and I learned from one of the other survivors at the Walmart that the whole ''peak'' stat thing is a hard cap. Humans can''t go past ten in a stat passively. Skills can push you past it though. Guy was a professional football player. He started with a fortitude of nine, when he put his level up point into it, it greyed out. He has an ability called ''Hold the Line'' that boosts his fortitude though. We tested it out a little and someone got a little too excited and bent a crowbar over his skull. Didn''t even bruise him." She widened her eyes as she spoke. "Jeez, how did someone get so excited they took a crowbar to the guy?" Erick winced at the mental image and glanced back at his stats. His fortitude was pretty decent, but if he was gonna defend himself and not die in the process he needed to either avoid more attacks and hit faster, or hit hard enough that he never took damage, to begin with. Mark of Caine raised all his physical stats, so any of the three would be getting multiplicative gains. He wasn''t happy about his mental stats. They didn''t feel particularly important when none of his class abilities required them and he was trying not to die.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Oh you know how people get. Someone does something cool like break a wooden board over a guy''s chest, and monkey brain kicks in and people just start grabbing things to try out. It was pretty scary though cause the guy who grabbed the crowbar had a pretty decent strength stat. Everyone had one of those, ''oh no what did we do'' moments when he swung it. And then they cheered when Billy was fine. Billy is the football player by the way." she said, shaking her head. "oh if you haven''t spent your points yet don''t get too excited, they don''t apply until you sleep. Apparently, the system has to put us in a coma-like state to adjust our bodies." Erick had just thrown both points into might and braced himself like he expected rippling muscles to suddenly swell all over his body. He''d clenched his jaw and flexed his arms and legs while closing his eyes, giving him a somewhat constipated look. When her words registered he relaxed and pouted a little. "Drat, I was hoping to suddenly lose all this extra fat and become ripped!" Tasha tried to keep a straight face but a girl giggle snuck out and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "You didn''t hear that!" she said staring daggers at him. Erick held up his hands in defense. "Nope definitely did not hear a cute giggle out of the Amazon with the monster dog. I like having all my parts attached where they''re supposed to be." he winked at her to show he was just kidding. She snorted daintily and nodded. "As you should." The mention of her dog brought her attention back to him. Cujo was currently chewing on the iron railing by the stairwell. While at first glance this seemed dumb, the monstrous canine was making some headway on it and there were dents and scrapes all over the metal bar. "Cujo! stop that!" The dog sat up at his name and stared guiltily at her. Sad puppy dog eyes were still effective even when the dog was the size of a brown bear. Tasha reached over and ruffled his ears before turning to Erick. "We should get going, you saw the message earlier right? There are quite a few of the refugees that are still level zero. We''ve got to get groups together and start helping them level or who knows what they''ll turn into." Erick nodded and took one last look at his door. "Yeah, lead the way. I''ve already lost a bunch of time, we should do what we can to help others." He winced at the thought of people, but it seemed like the major players in this group were alright. If the football player was laid back enough to let others test out his skill, he was probably an ok sort. He did admit to himself, if only in his mind, that the tall, beautiful, and powerful woman asking for his help struck a chord. You don''t play as many RPGs as Erick had without having at least a little bit of a hero complex. Cujo stood at the word going and his nose began to twitch as he made his way down the stairs. Erick watched him go and began to wonder out loud. "He seems, smarter than I would expect. Did you send some kind of command to him I didn''t notice?" Tasha shook her head. "No, I''ve noticed it too, he just, pays attention to my conversations it seems." She shrugged as if that wasn''t that out of the ordinary. Erick wasn''t so sure, most dogs only understood a handful of words, and while Cujo had been very well trained before. He had seen Tasha making the dog do tricks on their walks sometimes. This was closer to understanding the context of the sentence than picking up on keywords and body language. "I don''t suppose you could tell me the exact wording of that ability you have? I know that''s asking a lot, but I''m curious." He said as they began to follow the dog. "well, maybe later when we''re not trying to avoid getting ambushed. I''m going to try to learn my lesson and shut up." Chapter Six: A trip to Walmart "The mutation of sub-sapient species is a hotly debated topic. Why certain species mutate the way they do, why some mutate differently, and why the speed of mutation differs has been discussed ad nauseam. No one knows, but anecdotal evidence can confirm that the most dangerous mutated beings are insectoids. Mana allows for insects to mutate to a much larger size than evolution ever intended, and the system is very literal with the growth of abilities versus size. Things that should become less possible with an increase in size, like the prodigious strength of ants, continue working just fine as the mana mutates them. More dungeon world deaths are attributed to mutated insects than all other beings combined." --- A lecture on mutative theory. The first thing Erick noticed on their trip away from the apartment complex was that Cujo was utterly silent. He wasn''t sure if the dog had a skill or if it was just a canine ninja prodigy. Either way, no leaf rustled and no twigs snapped at the dogs passing. Erick, on the other hand, sounded like a bull in a china shop. The normal trash that would be found on the streets of their city had begun to pile after twenty-four hours of inactivity. It seemed like everywhere he stepped was a crinkling wrapper or a crunchy plastic bottle. He started to mutter "sorry, sorry" about ten minutes in and was quickly shushed by Tasha. Tasha called for a stop as Cujo''s head lifted. They both crouched behind a bench and trashcan combo. Erick wasn''t any better at hiding than he was moving silently so he just tried to huddle behind a much too thin tree. Tasha looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and whispered, "This is not a looney tunes cartoon. At least get lower to the ground." Erick quickly crouched down, but he still hadn''t seen what had caused them to stop. "What do you see?" He whispered. She made a face at him and he stared at her confused. She cupped her ear, and he realized he''d been whispering too quietly. He tried again, more stage whispering, "What do you see?" She pointed to her right, across the street. Cujo was staring in that direction as well. His eyes followed the direction she pointed to find a pile of stone, probably high enough to come to his chest and easily six feet wide. Erick stared at the pile uncomprehending. He noticed a bit of movement at the top and a pair of jaws the size of a baseball glove came up out of the top to drop off a chunk of what looked like concrete. The concrete rolled down to the bottom of the hill joining a pile of similar chunks. "What the" Erick started to say before he was shushed by Tasha. As they watched, every minute or so another chunk of material was brought out of the top and deposited on a side. Tasha watched the pile with wild eyes. "That was not here when we came by a few hours ago. That looks like an anthill, a huge one. Judging by the size of those jaws coming out the ants must be the size of house cats. Oh god. This is just a dump tunnel, it''s on the edge of their colony." She turned to Erick speaking quickly. "We''ve got to go, depending on the direction the colony is that could be right under the Walmart!" She turned and sprinted away, Cujo hot on her heels.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Erick took off after here, making a note to ask why she knew so much about ant colonies. He didn''t bother trying to be quiet now, but even going all out, he wasn''t nearly in good enough condition to keep up with Tasha. So when she stopped at the top of a particularly steep hill, it took him almost a full minute to catch up and he was severely out of breath. "What''s," Wheeze. "Wrong?" he coughed and tried to catch his breath. Tasha just pointed down the hill. Erick looked and grimaced. Ants were everywhere, swarming around the building, climbing the sides of it, and ranging out towards them. "Well Shit," he muttered as he stood up straight. "That looks like probably a hundred of them?" Erick had never realized quite how hard it would be to get an accurate count when they were all moving constantly. Tasha shuddered, "Erick there are people in there. We had the place partitioned off some what, but I''m not sure how well that would hold off monster ants." She looked to be on the verge of tears. Erick surveyed it again and shrugged. "As much as I''m not looking forward to being ripped to pieces by ants, they''re still pretty small. I can probably rile them up and then kite them away. Might be enough for you to get people out? what do you think?" Tasha blinked at him, "Erick we have no idea how fast they are. You could get swarmed as soon as they see you. You could run into something more dangerous while kiting them." He bobbed his head back and forth, "Yeah, maybe, but we don''t have time. If there''s anyone left in there they don''t have long, here." He handed her his eyes and grinned at her. "If I don''t make it, go back to my place. It should be safe from the ants expanding that far. You and whoever you save are welcome to raid my fridge, should still be cold enough since I only opened it once." He winked at her and then hefted his bat and charged down the hill. Tasha reached for him, trying to stop him but he was already gone. Cujo stood at attention watching Erick sprinting down towards the ants and rumbled out a growl. Tasha sighed and ruffled the fur on his head. "Yeah I know, you wanna go with him. You two are way too alike. Starting to think I have a type." She turned and started sneaking down the hill curving to come in at the opposite side of the direction Erick went. Erick activated his mark as soon as he was within melee range of the closest ant and swung the bat down, crushing it in a splatter of goo. He roared at the rest, his vision going red with the rage. The ants did not hesitate and charged him. He swung his bat down again crushing another that got too close and noticed that about a third were larger, closer to the size of small dogs. Their mandibles were much thicker. As he stared at one a window popped up.
Skill gained: Appraise (common)(rank 1)
Mutated Ant Soldier (Level 3)
Erick growled, turned, and sprinted away, a horde of angry ants right on his tail. Chapter Seven: Escape from Walmart (Tasha PoV) Tasha watched as Erick sprinted off, the majority of the ants following him. A large one and two of the smaller ones remained. She narrowed her eyes and gave a short whistle. The ants lifted their heads, waving their antenna in her direction, but that was merely a useful by-product of the whistle. Cujo leaped out of a nearby bush, sinking his fangs into the mandible of the single larger ant. He quickly whipped his head back and forth ripping the mandible off. Ichor sprayed as the ant let out a squealing hiss. Tasha ghosted up behind the distracted ants, pulling out a hunting knife she had hidden in a spine sheath. She stabbed down, piercing through one of the smaller ants. Cujo spat out the mandible and lunged again at the larger ant, catching its head in his massive jaws and crunching down. The worker that Tasha had not stabbed attempted to retreat inside the Walmart but she sprinted after it. Catching the ant just as it made it to the door she pierced its head. She whistled again a soft chirping sound that caused Cujo to drop the larger ant and come to heel. She checked the outer doors of the store, noting how the pieces of sheet metal had been peeled away. Prowling closer she peeked inside, worried more of the ants had stayed within. Cujo stood alert beside her, his nose twitched repeatedly, but he didn''t alert which gave her hope. After a few moments of silence, she gave in to hope and whisper called. "Hello? can anyone hear me?" She waited for a few minutes and then tried to open the doors. Unfortunately, the ants peeling the panels had ruined the hinges so she had to fight with the door to get it open. A long horrifyingly loud squeal as the door finally came free ruined any attempts at stealth. She winced and paused, listening for the sound of ants approaching. Finally, she decided to just go in and check. The entrance area, which had been piled up with empty shelves to make a secondary barricade, was a mess. Some of the shelves looked like they had been partially melted, and one of them was ripped completely in two. Neither of which seemed like something the ants she had fought would be capable of. Her worry for Erick grew as she searched the area, finding only a few drying pools of blood. She called louder now, more confident that there wasn''t anything else in here. "Hello? Is anyone still here? Please answer me!" after only a moment of waiting she thought she heard something. Moving in the direction of the sound, she found herself heading towards the produce section. It was where they had put the older folks and the children. A pained voice from the back drew Tasha''s gaze. Laying amongst a pile of dead ants was Billy, his makeshift armor torn to shreds. The six-foot-four man with dark brown hair and eyes was curled into a ball, cradling the stump of his right arm. It looked as though something had ripped off his arm at the elbow joint. Blood was splattered all over him and the floor, though it didn''t seem like any more was forthcoming.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Tasha rushed over to him. "Billy? Billy! can you answer me? Come on, we have to go." She quickly checked him over, not finding any other wounds on him, or at least none left. Billy groaned and cracked an eye. "Five more minutes?" Then he winced as the pain caught up to his waking mind. "Damn them bugs, can''t believe the sucker got mah arm." He lifted the stump, and they could both see that the wound was scabbed over. "Thought I was gonna bleed out for sure. Guess bein'' as tough as I am mean''s more''n I thought." He looked up at her, curiosity on his face. "Didja see ''anyone else? I made mah stand here, so they could run." Tasha shook her head, a few tears leaking out as she looked down at him. "No Billy, I''m sorry. There was some blood by the entrance, but I didn''t see anyone else. We need to go, I met up with someone while searching the apartments and he drew the ant''s attention for us. We need to get out of here before they come back." She bit her lip, worried about what it would mean if the ants came back quickly. Billy raised his eyebrows at her. "Gosh Ms. Tasha, tears and a worried look in one day? Are you gonna make it?" He smiled to show he was just joking with her, though it quickly turned into a wince as he shifted his weight. "I''m gonna need yer help gettin'' up. I mighta lost a few pounds with tha arm, but I''m still a big fella to be pushing maself up one-handed." Tasha smiled, though she was still crying, and said, "Alright Billy, I''ll crouch down and you can use my shoulder to steady yourself." she walked over beside him and went down on one knee. Billy nodded and placed his remaining hand on her shoulder, leaning on her to get up onto his knees, and then left himself up. He grunted in pain as he stood and then held out his hand to help her back onto her feet, which she accepted. "Alright, we''ve got to get out of here. We don''t have time to search, I''m hoping they made it out the back door." She smiled at him again. "You''re very brave Billy, thank you for staying back for everyone." Billy smiled happily at her and then suddenly looked startled. "Aw crap, did that ant take mah hand with it? I had my wedding ring in that hand. Shawn''s gonna kill me if I lose it." Tasha patted him on the shoulder consolingly. "I''m sure he''ll forgive you, I think he''ll probably be at least as upset about the loss of the hand. Not sure how your back rubs are gonna be now." She said, giving him a lopsided grin. Billy coughed and then began to chuckle before replying, "Ah you''re right Ms. Tasha. Guess it''s silly worryin'' about a ring. It just meant so much to me an'' him both." Tasha nodded and said, "Don''t worry Billy, we''ll find him. You said he was visiting his parents right? They''re only a few miles out of town? If they''re country folk like you said I''m sure they''ll be able to protect their home." He nodded and looked around. "Where''s Cujo? Big mutt never misses a chance tah lick mah face now that he can reach it." Tasha startled and started to turn before turning back to him to say, "He''s following the ant''s scent trails through the building. He hasn''t found anyone else nor does it smell like the ants took anyone away." Billy stared at her for a moment. "Ah, Ms. Tasha, how do yah know that?" Tasha just stared back at him in shock for a moment before noticing a blinking icon in the corner of her vision. Pulling it up she let out a shuddering breath before saying, "Huh, looks like Anthropomorphic Empathy leveled up." Chapter Eight: a Gi-Ant Problem Erick learned something he had not known before. Certain species of ants can shoot acid from their abdomens. He had stopped and turned to bash a few more of the faster ants, caving in the head of one of the soldiers and then swinging down on a smaller worker. Then from behind the front lines, a section of ants rose on their back four legs and curled their abdomens under them to point at him. Ten streams of acid hit him in the chest, the arms, and the face. The acid wasn''t exceptionally strong. It burned his skin and was probably only discoloring his coat, but it blinded him. The enrage allowed him to ignore pain, but being blind was being blind. He turned and attempted to flee, tripping over the curb, running into cars, and once running face-first into a light pole. One of the ants caught him when he was recovering from the run-in with the light pole. Trying to get a hold of his leg, the ant only manages to get its jaws around the leather coat he wore. He kicked out knocking the ant back and was up and running again. After a few minutes his enrage ended, the burning sensation on his face, chest, and in his eyes became all he could think about and he screamed. He curled up into a ball as the pain overwhelmed him and waited to be eaten. After a few minutes, the pain had somewhat faded. His boosted stats had healed more than he first thought and he was already starting to see shapes and outlines again. Whimpering as he lay there, he was surprised that the ants hadn''t caught up. They had been tenacious and didn''t seem like the type to just give up. Looking around his vision continued to clear, he realized he was in a rougher part of town. The area east of the Walmart hadn''t always been so run down, but times had been tough lately. He''d heard tale of some of his old co-workers getting mugged traveling through here and the place looked it. Grafitti on the walls and trash piles on the streets were just some of the signs that this area wasn''t taken care of. Looking closer, Erick noticed that there were claw marks along the walls. Fresher than the graffiti, they were strange because of the number of parallel lines. Only three, as opposed to the four he would expect from wild beasts marking their territory. He moved closer, running his fingers along the marks. They were jagged cuts on the wood, though more like scratches on the concrete. "what the heck," he said shaking his head.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. There was no sound to accompany the attack this time. No hiss or growl, just a piercing pain in his shoulder as something heavy drove him to the ground. Erick wasn''t sure if a flicker of shadow had warned him or if he was developing some kind of sixth sense. The attack had been aimed at the back of his head, and he''d flinched to the left just in time to avoid a one-hit kill. He groaned in pain and pushed off the ground trying to roll. The weight on his back disappeared as he moved, a sound like angry chittering and hissing greeting his ears as he raised himself to his knees. Standing before him was what looked like a cross between an adolescent child and a rat. Not even four feet tall the thing''s head was almost completely rat-like and would''ve been large on a full-grown man. Its arms were spindly and ended in delicate claw-tipped hands, each holding a rusty iron punch dagger, made from what looked like scrap. Both daggers had three parallel blades, obviously the tool that made the claw marks. The creature continued to hiss and chitter as it crouched in front of him, seeming to try to be both threatening and curl in on itself at the same time. Staring at it for a second gave him a ''helpful'' blue window.
Ratkin Scavenger (level 2)
"ah, useful. I am going to grind this skill as soon as I get the chance. Hopefully, higher levels will give me more information than a name and level." He grumbled to himself. He tried to activate his enrage again but nothing happened. He just sat there in shock for a moment, and then he felt a clawed hand grabbing his hair and pulling his head up. He didn''t even see the claw dagger that whipped around and slashed his throat. The ratkin in front of him seemed furious, chittering and hissing at something behind him. All he could do was gurgle, blood pouring out of his throat. The hand in his hair released him and he toppled forward onto his face.
You have died.
Interlude: Dreams come true Davis was so happy the world ended. He''d warned his parents, then his doctors, and finally his therapist, but no one believed him. So, in the middle of the night, he cackled as the blue boxes he always knew was coming finally came. The boxes asked him a bunch of seemingly innocuous questions, but he knew the answers to give. Not who he was, which was nobody, but who he wanted to be. Davis had loved fire to an unhealthy degree ever since he was little. Nearly burning down his parents'' house at seven had got him his first introduction to a therapist. He hadn''t intended for the house to catch on fire. One of the candles he had lit ended up dripping down into a wall socket. He''d found a grill lighter and started lighting the candles all around his house. He had no idea why his mother loved candles so much but never lit any of them. Seeing the flickering flame on the first one had made him want to light them all, so he did. The breakers in the house had been bad. Instead of shutting off the power to the outlet as it should, it just kept on going. The electric current ran through the wax, setting it on fire and then lighting up the drywall. By the time this had happened, Davis wasn''t even in the same room anymore, lighting candles in his parents'' bedroom. He had still been staring at one of the burning candles, seemingly hypnotized when the firefighter burst into his parents'' room and carried him out. He kicked and screamed the whole way, reaching for the candle that had been knocked onto the floor. After that, there had been a lot of assumptions. He still wasn''t communicating well at his age. His therapist called him a late developer, his mom called him special, his dad called him stupid. All of them believed he had lit the fires for attention. All of them were wrong. The second time Davis had burned down a building, it had been on purpose. He was better at covering his tracks and making it look like an accident. Turns out, a lot of older houses just weren''t particularly fire-safe, to begin with. His parents had left him with his grandparents for a weekend. His grandmother acted sweet around his parents, or strangers, but called him names and smacked his hands when they were alone. His grandfather mostly stared at the TV and ignored it all. Neither one made it out of the house. The fire marshal blamed it on the old stove being left on overnight. Which was true enough, but Davis had helped it along a bit.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The third time, Davis was sloppy. He could admit that to himself now. It had been rushed because he was angry. His father had said something insulting. He couldn''t even remember what it was now, but it had infuriated teenage Davis. So Davis went with his tried and true solution for dealing with his problems. He took the plastic gasoline container in the garage, poured it down the hallway of his house, lit it, and left. He headed over to a friends house and claimed that his parents had thrown him out. Unfortunately, his mom had woken up in time to notice the fire, and gotten out. Davis had been deemed criminally insane. He didn''t think he was insane, but he did like fire a lot so maybe. The flashes of start-up windows and error windows he''d gotten a few days before the system initialized had gotten him the straight jacket treatment though. Sitting in his solitary room with his straight jacket on Davis smiled and hummed happily. The window informing him that his entries had been accepted closed, and after a few moments, his mind expanded. For the first time, he truly understood Fire, how it burned, why it burned, and how he could make it with just a thought. The straps on his jacket burst into flames, and he didn''t even wince at the heat. He tore the jacket off and tossed it to the side. He narrowed his eyes at the door, then glanced back at the jacket. He picked it up and tossed it on the bed, then with a thought lit it on fire. He banged on the door and screamed for help. The orderlies burst in one pushing him up against the wall the other trying to beat out the fire. Then they burned. Davis stole out of the psychiatric prison wearing an orderlies outfit. People were too distracted by the blue boxes to pay much attention, plus there was a sizable fire going in the high-security wing. He turned back to the building and lit the roof on fire in a few places. He feed the flames with his mind, goading them until they could burn on their own in the shingled roof. So many old buildings in the deep south. So flammable. The glimpses he''d gotten at the underlying code of the windows had told him a little of what was to come. He needed to prepare. As much as he had hated the old world, the new world would need people like him. People who are willing to kill and survive. He''d do what he was always meant to do. Burn a path for humanity to thrive.