Chapter 1
Unwound
"On your feet, maggot!" a harsh and loud and an voice jolted Sylas from his rather rough and uneven sleep. The voice was entirely unfamiliar, as was the sensation beneath his body. Though he wasn't particularly rich, he wasn't so poor either as to sleep on what felt like a cold, stone block. "Are you ignoring , Recruit?! On your feet, before I toss you through the window!" the sa voice roared again, forcing Sylas to pull his eyes open.
The sight that welcod him was beyond unfamiliar. The room was eerily cold and slly, not to ntion the fact that it had none of his favorite decorations. The massive Smart TV that he spent nearly five grand on, starving himself for months in the process because it seed like a smart thing to do at the ti, was nowhere to be found, as was the painting of a peach tree that he claid he bought for thirty grand whereas, in fact, he spent twenty bucks and was also given a bird cage as an extra for so reason.
His favorite lamp was missing as well, as was the nightstand atop of which it shone. In fact, taking a better look around, he realized... everything was missing. Why? Holy shit, this aint my room! The realization struck him like a bolt of thunder-- this wasnt his room... which ant this wasnt his apartnt... which ant... Fuck, I was kidnapped?
Thats twice, Recruit! a harsh voice ca closer and, just as Sylas was about to turn and face its source, he felt a strong grip on his throat suddenly plop him up like he was a stick and drag him toward a square-shaped window.... without, well, the window part. It was just a massive, gaping hole in the stone-block wall. "Do you see how far the fall is, maggot?!!" the voice asked, heaving him over the edge and out into the cold, late evening. The drop was indeed massive--must be nearly a fifty feet drop altogether. Sylas wanted to scream in protest and beg not to be dropped, but the grip on his throat was so strong and so precise that he could breathe just fine... but he couldnt utter a sound, strangely enough.
"That should have woken you up," the harsh voice spoke yet again, yanking him back into the stone-walled room and rotating him about, affording Sylas an opportunity, at last, to see who the voice belonged to. "Now, stand up straight, Recruit!"
The bearer of the voice was a middle-aged man clad in a thick layer of what looked to be armor from before anyone knew what 'healthy life' was. He sported a thick, oily, black beard that covered nearly every inch of hisadmittedlyscarred and wrinkled face. A pair of equally black eyes pierced right into Sylas', though their whites had quite a bit of yellow to them, indicating illness of one or another mannerSylas couldn't tell.
He moved almost by instinct after the fact, standing up; he was kidnapped and into so freak show, no less. It had to be soone suprely rich who was utterly bored with their life.
The last thing he recalled doing was going to bed after a night of overti work, as was usually the case on Fridays. He didnt even have the energy to shower or eat, imdiately beelining toward the bedroom and going comatose. And now now, he was here. Sowhere unfamiliar and sowhere cold. Considering it was the dead center of July back ho with the temperatures nearing three digits, he was likely taken to so strangely cold and dreary country.
Your duties are simple, the man spoke yet again. Stand guard in the watchtower, and if you see anyone or anything attacking it, ring the bell. If I catch you sleeping on the job, Ill whip you a hundred tis myself! Are you clear?
ARE YOU CLEAR?!!
Y-yes! Sylas replied swiftly when he saw the mans face darken in anger.
Good. Follow to your post, now.
The two left the room right after and, seeing the exterior, Sylas suspicions were confird. They were in what looked to be a dieval castle with four cylindrical towers standing tall on the edges, framing the four walls that made the outer portion of the castle. The inner portion had a set of stonework buildings, four in total, so with flickering windows and so with wholly dark.
It looked like it had been raining recently, what with the mud where the dirt was supposed to be an all. Save for the two of them, Sylas spotted so more n walking the walls and a few scurrying about the castles inner grounds. Soone super-rich
To have a dieval castle, one seemingly furnished perfectly, with a set of actors very, very, very few people could afford that. He staunchly held onto the idea that he was kidnappedany other reality was beyond him, after all.
The middle-aged man led him up a set of stairs etched against the outer walls, leading up to them and into the watchtower where, in the center of the room, a large, bronze bell hung, surrounded by stairs leading upwards, the sa ones they took.
The towers main entrance was flooded during the rain, the man explained. And the stairs down below have given in. Be careful where you step, Recruit. Itd be best to not move at all.
Everything was a setup, Sylas ascertained in his mind. Whatever he was being told are tiny hints in the larger ga, he was certain. What was the quest, though? Was it truly to just stand watch in the tower for the whole night without falling asleep? It cant be that simple.
ere, the bearded man opened the towers doors and led him in; there was little else besides another spiral staircase that led to the top of the tower where only a single, long-since-rotted chair stood. The view was largely blocked by thick fog, but from what he could see, beyond the castle was a forest, at least on one side. In the distance, he could also hear a gushing river. Besides that, however, he couldnt say. Im making rounds round the walls all night long, Recruit. If you slack, Ill know!
And with that the middle-aged man was gone. Sylas finally had a mont to himself and he imdiately collapsed, weak in his knees. He began to shake and shiver, fear encasing his heart. He was surprised he lasted this long, actually; courage was never his forte. Lies, swindling, scammingyes, those he could do. Walk into a dangerous situation willingly? That he could not.
Just as he was about to surrender to his fears and keel over into a fetal crawl, sothing shook him; a bright light blinded him for a mont, as though it shone directly in front of his eyes. It took him a brief mont to adjust whereupon he opened them and saw sothing that broke his understanding of realitythere was a screen in front of him, a screen not unlike a prompt in a program or a ga, frad with thin lines, its body simple but pleasing to the eye. It was largely silver in color, not much wider than a grown mans forearm, but it spelled letters aplenty for him to read.
Greetings, Traveler.
Task: save Boy.
Good luck.
Aplenty might be a strong description for it since it only made him even more confused. Had he been chipped? No, that was impossible. Though he wasnt up-and-up when it ca to the frontrunning technology, he was more certain in the fact that the technology like this didnt exist than he was in the fact that his eyes were real.
What was it then? A dream? A nightmare? A sick prank by so God or so extraterrestrials too bored with their lives? He couldnt say.
Feeling like it was all just a big ol joke, he looked up and began laughing. It was a soft, self-mocking laugh, the ilk that nobody else besides him could hear. It was better to laugh than to cry, after all.
In the end, all he could do was continue to sit there, occasionally standing up to stretch. Whatever it was, or whoever it was did it even matter? What choice did he have, anyway? Though he had quite a bit of faith in his glib tongue, it wasnt to the point where he genuinely believed he could cheat a God into letting him go back. All he could do was resign to his fate, whatever it may.
As such, he stood to watch as the late evening beca early-night and until the entire world beca pitch black. It was terrifying. Living in a city, he never quite got to experience what a night is. Unlike in the modern city, there was nothing besides the moon above that illuminated the world. He could barely etch out the edges of the walls so twenty feet ahead of him before it all went dark. He could faintly see an outline of the castle or the canopy of the treetops in front of him, but little else besides.
Every ruffle of the wind was like a high-pitched scream since, beyond it, there was nothing else but dreary silence. Even the sound of him shuffling his feet startled him. It was now too late to even inspect just what he was wearingit wasn't his old clothes, that's for certain. The new ones felt extrely heavy and inflexible like they were made of barely processed leather.
He was unable to calculate the passage of tiit could have been hours or it could have been just a few dozen minutes into the night when sothing else caught his eye. The forest, which remained unmoving beyond the occasional blow of the wind, began moving. The forest itself wasnt moving, of course, but sothing in it was. His nerves taut, Sylas stood up and leaned against the stone railing of the tower, trying to adjust his eyes to the best of their ability to see in the night.
Already half a mind to just go down into the tower and ring the bell, he barely held himself back, continuing to watch. And then he saw it. Just at the edge of the forest, leaving it, barely visible underneath the faint moonlight he saw sothing indeed. It was a person yet not quite. He was able to tell that much even from so far away. It was tall, though he couldnt say how tall exactly. But, what made it distinctly not human was the fact that the top of its skull was open and so of the still-rotting brain matter was hanging over the edge, like so sludge.
His heart shot into his throat as he yelped and tossed himself back, scrawling over the floor toward the stairs and descending them like a madman, running for the bell. The mont he got to it, he held the wooden rope tightly and swung with all his might.
It took a mont but the bronze, aged bell finally rangand it was a loud ring, one that completely deafened him for a mont. Nonetheless, he ignored the pain and continued ringing. After what felt like a good minute, he stopped and crawled back up to the tower, observing from above. What he saw shocked him. The walls were in utter ruins just fifty feet away from him and the inner castle was already swarming with those things. There were hundreds of them and they were everywhere. Just then, a window similar to the one before appeared before him, similarly vague as well.
Boy died.
Task failed.
Unconcerned since he was far more terrified for his life, Sylas didnt know whether it was a better idea to stay at the top of the tower or to make a run for it. Because of the bell, he was unable to hear anythingjust a high-pitch hum that still grated at his mind. But ever so often, he could see splashes of red, like upward rain, flow out. And he could see lifeless and still corpses lying here and there. He was terrified, frozen, incapable of uttering a sound. It wasnt a ga. Whatever it was it wasnt a ga. It was real. All of it was real. And he was going to die. He will die just like the rest. Die. Die. Die.
Hairs on the back of his head stood up as he swiftly spun around, facing the horror that encroached upon himit was unmistakably one of them. It was like a zombie or a ghoulit was missing one of its eyes and its jaw was unhinged, with the left portion missing entirely, exposing the rotting innards. Its skin was sickly pale and its extending arms that were reaching for his throat had enough holes to masquerade as cheese.
He almost laughed there toward the end, at his own, silly joke. He felt the hands grip his throat and he didnt even fight. Fighting, after all, would just prolong the suffering. He was going to die and thus, he closed his eyes, feeling the sickly nails claw into his throat and feeling the blood drip out and feeling his consciousness slip. At the last second, another window appeared in the midst of darkness, one extrely similar to the other two.
You have died.
A Save Point discovered.
Loading
You will be returned to the Initial Save point.
"On your feet, maggot!" a harsh and loud and an voice jolted Sylas from his rather terrifying and painful sleep.
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