Into The Abyss

I bent my head into a river of sludge. I didn’t have any container to hold the fluid it, thus I has to lap it up like a dog. Thus that is how I drank. The light purified the putrid substance and filled my mouth with the taste of soggy ash.

Disgrace, shame, rage, and hate fill my heart to the brim. My bitterness gave my flesh strength. I had no reason to live but scorn.

“Damn this world.” A voice croaks, one that I soon recognize to be my own. I break into another round of coughing, a viscous white substance being hacked into my water. “Damn it all.”

I pressed my shriveled hand against my chest, calling upon the light to cleanse the corruption festering within me. I feel a mere fragment of my former strength return to me as I struggle to find the will to stand.

Past the river, the land was swamp. Mold grew like grass across this land.

I turned around and took a step, my foot sinking into the soft earth, as I continued wandering. I knew not where I was going or how I might escape. Still, I refused to stop.

I opened my mind to the emerald eye. The whispers of Y’Ja filled my head with its squirming madness as I wrestled with the wretched will contained within. Answers, I demanded. A way to escape, an exit, hope.

The profane object laughed. A thousand voices overlapped, mocking me, eroding my will. Its claws gouged my mind as it searched. Memories that it could use to shatter my soul, old wounds that it would use to break me, promises of power if only I would relinquish myself to its whims.

I expelled the foul being from my mind as I once more failed to find an escape to this nightmare. Another failure to add atop the hundred before. Y'Ja reaffirms my suspicions

I cannot compel it to do the impossible. If there is no escape to divine, then it will not find anything. I’d spent years using it in hopes of finding a way home and it had all been in vain.

Naked I moved on. My armor abandoned long ago, the weight added too much to my already considerable mass. My clothing I had worn underneath had been soon devoured by fungus.

I imagined that I cut an odd figure; a sword in one hand, an earring on one ear, an emerald eye hanging from my neck, two rings on my right, and a sword carried in my left.

Hours I walked. The light regenerated flesh, cured me of my aching muscles, and warded off the perpetual rot I had to deal with in this realm. The ground hardened beneath my feet and I swayed.

A bed of roses sprang up, a product of my fevered mind. Songstresses sang as petals fell. The flowers wove themselves so that I might rest my head.

Temptation, I was very tempted. My weary eyes had not had time to rest since I was sucked into this realm. How long had it been? A week? Probably closer to two.

If I were to sleep, I doubt that I would wake again. I cannot go an hour without the light’s protection lest this land consume me.

“Why not?” Why did this have to happen to me? Why do I have to suffer like this? What did I do to deserve this? “What good is this life?”

That’s right. I’ve already lost everything. My friends, my family, my wealth, my achievements; none of it remains. There is no hope. Whether I struggle or give up now; both will result in death. Only, this way will be the slightest bit less miserable.

‘I want you to be happy.’ They say in unison. ‘Will you die filled to the brim with regret?’

The whispering begins again. Urging me onward, telling me never to give up. Familiar faces manifest to haunt me.

‘Pathetic.’ One particularly prominent voice says. ‘Get up.’

I smile at hearing his voice again after so long.

‘Everyone has to die someday, what matters is the how.’

‘I love you.’

“I miss you.” Quietly, I say, “I miss you all.”

If I wanted to die, I should’ve slit my throat at the beginning. It’s too late now. To die now would be a waste.

Hours soon turned to days. Frequently I speak with the Y’Ja but, still, anything I find is naught but an illusion. My vision had become blurry and my steps unsteady. I’ve gone too long without eating.

My family gnaws the meat from my bones.

‘Shame,’ they’d say. ‘How could you?’ They’d ask and I would be left unable to answer.

I had thought it a dream, I’d gotten carried away; any excuse I could give would be hollow.

“Y’Ja…” I say, the words leaving my slips slowly. “…Show me.”

There’s reluctance, it fights me harder than it ever has before but this only ignites hope. Blazing, fiery, perverse; my desire burns, all my dread and sorrow only acting as tinder to the fire. Light, stronger than ever before, burns as the eye is overpowered. It screams in agony as I force the truth from it.

For the briefest of instants, I hesitate. Perhaps this is another mirage. A cruel delusion sent to torment me for all the evil I have wrought. But no, I know like I knew the last dozen times, that this is not an illusion. It’s real.

There, it’s there, within the river. I run but swiftly lose balance, mud fills my mouth. Gagging, I vomit and a golden luminescence reduces the slime to ash.

More carefully this time, I pick myself up. The river is gray and nearly stagnant. It moves as if it were a thick syrup.

I plunge my mind back into the eye of Y’Ja. Its resistance is fleeting as its already battered will gives way. It would be a while before it recovered.

It’s there.

Down I plunge. My eyes are shut as I swim deeper into the river’s depths. Tiny mouths bite and dig into my flesh, they burrow past my skin and feast on my insides. One of my eyes pop as something wiggles through the gelatinous orb.

Hitting the ground, I pass through. I drop my blade as I use both hands to dig the tiny snakes out of me. Frantically, my hand reaches into the pulp that had been my eye for the creature. The feeling is surreal and leaves me in a trance. Dig, two fingers squish some of the eye’s jelly together as I’m entranced. I feel it enter my brain.

Chewing, it’s consuming my mind. Oh, god. It’s real. This isn’t a dream, they’re eating me.

Panic, I shove my hand into my brain matter. I feel its tail and pull. It comes out with a chunk in its mouth. I throw it to the ground and slam my heel down onto it. Again, I smash it ‘til it’s not but a stain upon my foot. Like tiny pebbles, the teeth lodge themselves into my foot’s skin.

Crawling, they’re crawling inside of me. I dig and pull, my fingers gouging chunks of meat out of me. A primeval terror had consumed my mind. Scratch after scratch build up at the point of entry, blood flowing freely as I’m dyed red.

I rip them out one by one. I bite into my bicep, chewing my way towards the creature as all warmth leaves me.

Laughter, like a harmonious melody, breaks me from the spell. I’m pulled out of the depths of my insanity by the sound. Reason returns and light burns until the worms are dust. All evil is incinerated by the light.

How does it determine something to be evil? Generally it targets whatever is inherently harmful to humans.

I grimace. The bones are still stuck inside me. Bones don’t get incinerated by the light for whatever reason.

“Who might this be?” She’s so beautiful that it’s nearly blinding. If I were in any better shape, my blood would be boiling. “With light so blinding, it is sure that you are not of this realm.”

Her skin is the color of obsidian, bereft blemish or imperfection and covered in a long white robe. The fey woman had hair black as night, her eyes were of a similar color. Long pointy ears peaked out from her long flowing hair. Teeth like needles are revealed as her lips curved into a Cheshire grin.

It’s disjointed. Her mouth uttered syllables and words that no human should make while my ears heard only English. Sometimes I want to go back to thinking this was all a dream.

“What is this place?” I say, staring at the sky. I raise my shaking finger at the sight. “What is that?”

As my gaze locks onto them, they begin to call. Screaming wails and pleas for help shake my skull and cause my brain to tremble. Determination to save them, to jump into the river after them, fills me to my core. I grip the side of my head as I rip my eyes away.

“It is the river Styx.” A hand is offered and I take it.

A grotesque black tattoo creeps up from where our hands had met. I call for the light and the malignant blot is erased as she clutches the offending appendage. Melted skin drips to the floor and I waste no time. I push her to the ground but she flies backward with an imprint of my palm branded onto her chest. I’d miscalculated. My enemy weighs nothing.

I’m pushed back. A million invisible blades shred my chest. The skin is lacerated, exposing bones, while tiny force blades enter the gaps betwixt them. My internal organs are left largely unharmed as her witchcraft falters against my magic resistance.

But, even with that, I am not unscathed. My lungs are flooding with bloods as I’m left unable to breathe. I channel the spell and light twists reality, demanding it return to what was. Like a tape played in reverse, the affects of her magic are nullified and I’m restored.

Rage, my former despair and weariness is consumed by my anger. It gives me the strength to move as I forget the ravenous hunger that tormented me so. I will kill her.

Shadows elongate into eyes and mouths. Laughter fills my ears and I draw my sword.

Gold light glints off Durandal’s silvery blade. Screeching, she covers her eyes are they’re burnt out of her skull. I laugh with them. Skin blistering, eyes reduced to mushy ash, hair and clothes catching fire.

I stop to better appreciate the sight. Tongues slither out to molest her form but she doesn’t react. Unseen, they nibble and bite.

The creature, with a roar, blasts off the ground into the air. My radiance intensifies as I bring will to war against the unnaturalness of the enemy’s power. The vermin’s resistance lasts for but a moment before reality’s fetters take hold and drag it plummeting into the ground.

They ram headfirst into the ground, its molten skin scraping off against the hard rocks. If it were human it would be dead. Wisps of smoke curl off its disfigured form as my foe wrenches their head to face me. Empty caverns where eyes had once been gaze in my direction as what’s left of their face distorts into a sneer.

I smile a mocking smile, disappointed that it cannot see my grin. I don’t think I’ll be swift.

The ground beneath me caves in. Time seems to slow as the walls to the pit collapse; a cascade of sand burying me alive. Worms are vomited out of my mouth. I feel a pair of hands grasp my ankle as I’m pulled deeper. Beneath me the earth parts before falling on me once more as sand.

As if it had a mind of its own, the sand fills the crevices of my face and clumps together, merging back into solid stone. It doesn’t get far, my magic resistance stopping it from being controlled more than a second after its entry into my body.

It takes me but a moment to realize that this is real, Flicker, my ring activates and space blurs. My feet hit the ground. There’s no light, I hear nothing, I cannot breathe. Desperately, I struggle for breath. My mouth is muzzled by a stone mask and my throat is filled with sand. The suffocation nearly breaks my haggard mind. The sensory deprivation trapped me in a nightmare.

Corpses tugged at me. A lake of blood surrounded a mountain of corpses.

Mindlessly I claw at my face, skin and blood coat my nails before the nails too splinter and break. One of my finger rips a flap of skin from the upper portion of my nose. Air, the very essence of life, fills me with renewed vigor. I grip my nose with such strength that the stone contained therein is crushed. Rip, my nose is torn from off my face. The stone muffles my screams.

I gasp as the blood clogs my nose and begins suffocating me again. A layer of skin is regenerated to stop the bleeding. I wipe the blood and, finally, get to catch a breath.

Before I can take a second breath, I’m impaled. I cough and gag with my mouth bound as blood spews from out my nose and, I must say, this is one of the most unpleasant things I’ve ever experienced. Pain is one thing but this is an entirely new level of discomfort. I cannot heal while the rocks are still inside me so I think I might die.

I begin channeling divine protection. A boulder smashes against my head, interrupting my spell. I begin channeling again, this time bringing my arms up around my skull. Volleys of earthen spikes lodge themselves into my limbs but I persevere and finish the spell. I knock the blades loose before bringing my blade up.

More attacks come but they’re in vain. Harmlessly, they bounce off me. My body twists as Durandal cleaves its way through the stone spikes entrapping me. Hurriedly, now that they’re detached from the ground, I rip them out of my flesh. The knowledge that I’ll die if I’m too slow spurs me on past the pain. One, two, three, four, five, and finally the sixth is removed.

Heal; flesh mends as I feel the leftover gravel in my body. I stop it from regenerating my missing nose, fearing that I might faint.

Consecrate, I stab my blade into the earth and bless it. A circle of power spreads out with me as its center.

‘I’ll kill her.’

Obviously I’m mad but that isn’t why she needs to die. It’s that my foe might not be alone. If there’s one, there’s a dozen. If there’s a dozen, there’s a hundred. I don’t want to get swarmed.

I use the eye of Y’Ja and scry her location. Up above, in the air, she flies. Her head is bald, her skin charred, her face disfigured, and her eyes reduced to ashy mush.

I stop channeling my spell and turn the eye to myself. I haven’t gotten a good look at myself in a long time. A mane of red hair covers my head and obscures my face. Chunks of rock, flesh, blood, and some liquid I can’t identify decorate my hair. I look almost horrific. My maxed out charisma score somehow makes my skeletal noseless figure look far less wretched than it should.

I think the charisma stat is some kind of mind altering field that brainwashes people into thinking I’m handsomer than I am.

The land is strange, I dare not look straight up at the sky but, even without considering that, it’s still very eerie. Bereft of grass or dirt, the ground is made of orange stone. Blue crystal trees pop out from the ground. Red veins are spread throughout their form, clustering at the tree’s base. I zoom my vision onto the fruit growing out from its branch and see a pulsating fleshy hunk of muscle.

Y’Ja protests as I expand my vision to encompass more of the surrounding area. I stop and gaze down, there’s a figure approaching. A fourteen year old child. His hair is a glossy blonde, bright blue eyes peer up at me, and pale skin speaks of a life spent without the sun. A shiver runs up my spine and, as if sensing my distress, a disgusting smile stretches across his face.

But, against sense, I do not run. Deeper, I peered deeper into his essence. I see it, his true nature; he’s not living but rather a specter. Through perverse will he remains. Like a malicious tumor, he’s latched himself onto this world and refuses to let go. Rivers of blood, mountains of bodies far bigger than mine. Lives uncountable have been devoured.

It is only then that I run, already knowing it to be futile. It’s too late, it was probably always too late. The boy, the monster, he’s already here. The vast distance crossed in an instant.

“Hello!” A cheerful voice says as a small hand grabs my own. “Greetings, friend! My name is Astolfo.”

Why does this world hate me?

 

I blink, bleary light filling my vision. I open and close my mouth. I feel my ears. I call upon the light to heal my eyes. With clarity finally retaken, I stare at him.

He doesn’t say anything as space cracks and a loaf of bread is spat out by the tear in reality. Shards of broken space reflect light like a broken mirror’s shards.

He throws it to me and I eat unthinkingly. Slow and deliberate bites are taken as I eat. Throughout my meal I cannot bring myself to stop staring at him. My tension has yet to fade but I’m no longer as afraid.

The scraps of bread feel like heaven to my tongue. Streams of water flow through the air and I drink. The water tastes sweeter than honey. Relaxation fills me and it takes every shred of my willpower to prevent myself from collapsing.

I cannot help but notice that, without looking through the lens of Y’Ja, he seems almost ordinary. His face is filled with a polite smile while his eyes are filled with a childish innocence. It’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. Like a giant hairy spider rolling over for belly scratches. It’s more disturbing than it is cute.

A headache strikes my skull and I see his form flash. Icy blue fire occupies his eye sockets as a skeleton stands before me. Laughing, cackling, smiling; the skeleton is without musculature but I can clearly see its expressions. His clothing is shredded and dirty like something a popper would wear. The color is a mixture of black and brown due to filth.

I blink and he returns to how he was a moment before.

He’s dressed in blue and white. The clothing is softer and smoother than satin and silk. His shoes too are made of the same soft material. Only that the sole is hardened. Somehow his garments are without speckle or spot. Nothing has marred it in the slightest.

“Why’re you looking at me like that; as if I were some kind of monster?” He tilts his head as he blinks twice. “I’m a good person, y’know? I even helped you just now; didn’t I?”

“Thank you.” I deflate. It looks like, whatever he may be, he doesn’t mean me ill. My tiredness grows stronger, I feel weaker than ever before. Now that I’m finally safe, it’s caught up with me.

Constant healing and weeks without food or sleep have sapped my strength. The bitterness and self hate that had succored me is finally running out. I can no longer bring myself to feel anger. I’m just…

“Thank you.” I say again, not knowing how else to express it. “Thank you…”

I begin mumbling the words over and over before finally falling into a dreamless slumber.

I awake and look up. Instead of the eldritch sky I’d seen last, I see a reflection. From a bird’s eye view I see myself staring back. There’s a house within the dome and a reflection at the edges that reflect back up in an endless loop.

“That’s the end of this little space’s boundary.” The boy says. “That’s what happens when light hits an area where space does not exist.”

“Thank you,” I say again.

“No problem.” He puffs his chest out proudly before deflating somewhat and scratching the back of his head. He suddenly looks shy. I don’t know what to think anymore. “It’s my duty as a good person to help people.”

“Even if you are the wickedest man alive, I owe you a debt.” I lower my head and clench my fists. With a jerk I raise my head and look him in the eyes, taking a step forward. “Whatever it may be, ask and I will do it.”

“Fantastic,” his perpetual smile turn awkward, “can you put on some clothes?”

“…” I suddenly feel embarrassed. “I do not have any.”

“Pervert.”

“No, they…” I don’t know how to explain the circumstance in which I lost my garments. Instead I say in a quiet voice, “It is not my fault.”

“Mhmm…” His smile suddenly breaks as he studies me. “Fine, I get it.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“You don’t want to let anyone know about your hobbies.” He nods sympathetically.

Anything I could say would throw fuel to the flame and I’m far too tired to be arguing. So, I keep my mouth shut and nurse my grievances. I’ll have to repay my benefactor some day for everything he has done.

A frosty mist condenses around me, an intense chill freezing my blood. Cloth made of frost, soft as snow, covers me. It’s plain, opaque, and blue in color.

I pull at the material and it’s somehow stretchy. Is this really ice and snow? It’s quite weird and obviously unnatural. It’s also hellishly cold. Which, I suppose, is rather fitting; both metaphorically and literally. How the hell did he size it so well without getting my proportions? Was I molested in my sleep?

I eye him suspiciously before shaking my head. That would be absurd. I consider opening my mouth to ask for an explanation for everything but I cannot. I’m tongue tied.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” Astolfo asks. “Not many are keen on touring the Fel Lady’s Realm.”

“Is that what this place is called?”

Now that he’s asked the first question, my tongue had been unknotted.

“Mhmm, I’ll answer questions later.” The ground rises up as a layer of white grows atop it. He’s suddenly serious. “First, tell me why you’re here.”

I feel an insidious dread. If I misstep then he’ll have my head. In this world, blood lust is a real force. It’s a combination of merging mana and will. I use the same principle to dispel magic except, instead of mana, I use my light.

“I tripped.” I say quietly, deciding to answer with honesty regardless of how outrageous it must sound. “And fell into a portal.”

“Excuse me?” His eyes widen before blinking a couple times.

“…” His face twitches a couple of times before he breaks into a fit of laughter. “Are you done yet?”

“No.” He tries to speak between fits of laughter, “No… Of course, I’m not!”

He spends a minute or so cackling at me before stopping. I notice that he’s not breathing which… I mean, what did I expect? I already knew he was dead. That also means he’s laughing at me on purpose.

“Alright, go on.” He twirls his hands and gestures for me to continue. “C’mon, explain.”

The day had gotten old, the sky was darkening as I fought. Enemy after enemy fell to my blade. A hoard of monstrosities with six or seven arms each fled at my passing. My radiance burned them alive. Arms, legs, and heads go flying. Bisected bodies charred by my power littered the ground.
I will not go on about how unstoppable my rampage was or-

“Can you stop sucking your own dick?” Astolfo asks with his head tilted. “Saying you won’t go on talking about your achievements while, simultaneously, bragging about how awesome you are…” He grips his chin and seems to think. “I have to say, I’m impressed by the leathery thickness of your skin.”

“Do you want to hear my story or not?”

“Fine, go on.”

My stupendous, awesome, epic, legendary assault continued on. No ally could keep up with me, no enemy dared to face me. I stood above and beyond all others in this battlefield. I was truly-

“Bull.” He spoke slowly, punctuating each word. “Crap.”

“Shut it.” I’m done with this brat.

“Not until you stop vomiting excrement into my ear.” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t want to be hearing that from someone who looks as if they just stopped using diapers.”

“Baby mad I interrupted his story time?” An exaggerated mocking voice says before transitioning into a snarl. “Brat, I’m old enough to be your great grandfather’s father.”

“Excuse me, I’ll correct myself. You look as if you’re still wearing diapers.” I say before trying to look apologetic. “It isn’t shameful for an ancestor of your considerable age to use them. At some point your bowels just aren’t what they used to be and… I shouldn’t have insulted you for that.”

“You suicidial?” He looks like a miniature gangster right now. “Hey, stop laughing!”

I’ll be honest; most of my inhibitions had been abandoned over the years. That tends to happen when you’re a nigh immortal super emperor would maxed out charisma. So, though what I am doing is very unwise, I cannot bring myself to be particularly bothered by him.

Perhaps if I were still looking at him through Y’Ja I would lack the courage to antagonize him so excessively. But a teenage brat scaring me after everything I’ve gone through? That’s not happening.

“What’s that?” I cup my ear. “You looking for an ass kicking?”

“No, that would be you.” I feel a weight crash down onto my shoulders as I’m forced onto my knees. The rock he’s sitting on grows into a throne as he crosses his legs and presses his cheek against the back of his hand. Imperially and impassively he looks down on me. His posture is perfect; his body language practically oozes disdain. That must’ve taken a lot of practice. “Do not presume to think yourself my equal.”

“You look like an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” His jaw drops, his shock so great he forgets to keep crushing me with his telekinesis.

“You look like a child sitting on a toy throne held up by stilts.” I say without reserve, making my way back up to my feet. I’m a pretty petty person.

“Oh,” I say realizing that he might just kill me then dismissing the thought, “Sorry about mocking your height.” I get nervous as he glares at me, gnashing his teeth as he stares at me with unnatural malevolence. “Or your lack thereof.”

“Die, you bastard!” He comes at me with a flying kick and I step to the side. “Let’s settle this like men!”

“You’re not a man.” I say, going full death seeking mode. I scratch my head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean that you’re a little-“

He tries to tackle me and I slap my palm against his forehead. He pivots to the right and out of my way but the enhanced reflexes of my game character, even exhausted and weary, allow me to catch him by the head. He tries to punch me but I hold him back and start laughing again.

“What’re you smiling about?!” He says as he tries to remove my arm from his head. Unfortunately for him, my paladin weighs over three hundred points and has the raw physical strength to back it up. “You think you’re all that?!”

With a jerk and a sudden surge in strength, he dislodges my hand before biting down onto it. I holler in pain as I take a couple of steps back.

“Ha, you sound like a little girl.” He runs up and tries to kick me in the balls while I’m distracted but I deflect him with my knee.

I step back and kick him in the stomach. Then I kick his legs out from under him before instinct takes over and I launch of series of stomps straight onto his head.

“Huh, is that all? I’ve seen three year old girls who hit harder than you!” He yells with a mocking grin before launching into a profanity filled tirade.

I’m doing no damage. My attacks seem to just bounce off him. The best I can do is stop him from getting up. Whenever he tried to rise I kick him back down.

“What’re you anyway?” I give him another casual kick and he rolls away with it. There’s something therapeutic about kicking a figuring that I’d found so terrifying just minutes before. “Am I a bad person for enjoying this so much? You are a child after all.”

“I’m not a child!” He pushes himself up onto his knees.

“You’re damn right!” I nod enthusiastic;lly as the last of reservations vanish. I start sprinting to gain momentum. I want to try punting him. “That’s why this feels so amazing!”

“Ha!” Suddenly, I slip and fly forward. Astolfo jumps up and kicks me in the face midair. He flips and lands on his feet. “Yup, sure feels great.”

I hit the ground and slide a couple inches before studying what had happened.

The ground is covered in a coat of ice. When Astolfo walks across it, his feet sink slightly into the ice so that he maintains traction.

Carefully, I get up and approach him. Making sure not to slip, I speed up slightly and once again start sliding. I spread my legs in an attempt to keep my balance but a block of ice rises up to send me face first into ice. In a heap, I continue to slide as a block of rock breaks through the ice in front of me. My head hits it with a bang.

I try to get up but tiny ice marbles pop up beneath my hands and knees. Immediately I fall back down and then an ice boot slams into my face.

“Huh, this is pretty comfortable.” Astolfo’s satisfied voice says. I raise my head to see him nodding to himself. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to bully anyone so much.”

I send out a ray of blinding radiance. My will breaks the ice binding me and…

“Oh, no!” Roland calls out. “A clothes destroying laser!”

I have successfully humiliated myself. I think I might’ve preferred it when his boot was shoved into my mouth.

“Am I being sexually assaulted?!” Roland continues on. “Even in this realm of evil, I didn’t expect to experience the legendary,” he emphasizes the word from my story. I wince. “Epic-“

“I give up!”

“Sexual predator!” A sinister laugh fills my ears. “Roland, could it be that those monsters you described!”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

“When you were talking about your rampage, did you mean!” He says, a wicked smile spread across his face. “That you were actually!”

I finish channeling exorcism. His form starts dispersing as he’s finally silenced.

“I’ll do it!” I scream only releasing my hold on him once he starts nodding along. Seeing he’s not saying anything, “I’ll have you know, I’m no pervert but rather a true man of culture!”

“Wait, could it be!”

“Yes, I only partake in the highest order of internet whores.”

“I did not expect that response and I do not know what this’ internet’ is but I am also very cultured.”

“What were we arguing about again?”

“I forget.” Astolfo shrugs. “So, how’d you get here?”

“A demon or whatever was making a portal. It was dark and I was running after it downhill so I ended up tripping on an outcropping of stone.” I grimace. “At the same time, the portal opened and I fell in. The demon then closed the portal behind me.”

“That’s hilariously stupid.”

“Not for me it wasn’t!” I begin to rant, my frustration overflowing. “I wandered for weeks in that fungal wasteland! Why would you ever want to go there? Nothing even lives in that place!” I shiver as I remember the one creature I had encountered. “Aside from those tiny flesh eating snakes. The ones who crawl into your insides...”

“Sounds rough, buddy.” He pats my shoulder encouragingly as I mope. “You wanna talk more about it?”

“No…”

“So, the Fel is a realm within the Twisted Madness.” I stare at him in incomprehension. He notices my confusion and provides an equally confusing answer, “the Twisted Madness is a nexus that connects every alternate reality together. There’s a lot more to it but that’ll take ages to explain and, even then, it still won’t make any more sense.”

“Alternate realities?” I thought this was fantasy.

What’s with this science fiction development?

“Think of it like this, at some point someone started mass producing copies of the universe. However, since so much time has passed, most copies barely have any resemblance to the others.” He rolls his eyes as I open my mouth. “No, I have no idea how many copies exist but it’s a lot.”

“The Fel is a conglomerate of different worlds sucked into the Madness and merged together in some kind of malformed mishmash of pocket dimensions. There are connecting points that lead from one dimension to another that’re used to traverse the place. It’s also sentient and, probably, sapient.”

“Are you trying to say that this place is alive?” I shake my head. “Sure, why not? Makes about as much sense as everything else that’s happened! How do you even know that?”

“That’s the spirit!” Astolfo lets out a hearty laugh. “The realm opens portals into the material plane; that’s where we live. Afterwards every Fel creature nearby will swarm through and attack. This phenomenon doesn’t happen when the denizens of the Fel open a portal themselves.”

“How does that work?”

“The portals? Magic obviously.” He rolls his eyes. “When you have that much mana, it isn’t hard to turn reality into Swiss cheese and make a portal to another world.”

I pause a moment at the earth reference. If there are alternate realities, I guess it isn’t impossible for the same phrases to pop up.

“Of course.” I say, sarcasm dripping from my lips. “How silly of me. A magical planet can obviously make portals to other magical planets.”

“Yes, you are very stupid.” It seems my sarcasm was lost on him. Nope, he just hid a smile. He knows full well. “This world is able to manipulate its electromagnetic field to mind control the inhabitants living in it.” His brows furrow. “No, it’s wrong to say manipulate. The magnetic fields within these pocket dimensions are artificial and a product of the Fel Lady’s magic.”

He pauses a moment before continuing.

“The Fel Lady is believed to be the will of this realm or its personification.” Astolfo says. “No outsider has ever seen her and this is just what’s been pieced together from what the denizens of this place have said. Feel free to be skeptical.”

“There are also the Yoslo who’re tiny spirits that travel through the air.” Astolfo continues. “The Yoslo attach to those who’ve gained the Fel lady’s interest and gradually warp their target. They’re changed to fit her preferences and, unfortunately, most the things she considers virtuous are what we’d consider evil. It’s speculated the invasive nature of this realms’ ecology is a product of the Yoslo’s influence.”

“The way you speak, why are you so certain this Fel Lady or whatchamacallit is real?”

He went from saying she’s possibly fake in one sentence to saying these Yoyos are following her in the second. Does he think I’m an idiot?

“I wonder?”

I wait for an answer but Astolfo has engrossed himself in studying his nails.

“I’m too tired for this nonsense.” I look around for a comfortable spot before turning back to him. “Can you make me a sleeping mat or something?”

“Sure.” He shrugs and the rock softens into a bed of dirt. “Does that work?”

“Yes, yes it does.” I say before giving him one last look. “Thanks again for everything…”

He returns my look and meets my gaze. Seriously he says, “Then kowtow and bow while repeating that ten thousand times. This is the traditional method of expressing gratitude in my hometown.”

“Screw off!”

 

In times of old, doctors would often resort to knocking their patient unconscious. Or having them drink themselves silly. This fantasy world was different. There was magic and magic caused medicine to advance to a level even my home world would consider miraculous.

The level of treatment you could receive if you were rich was great and I had been very rich after my first world hop. I even drank a potion of eternal youth.

The peasantry did not have this luxury of course. Their medical care didn’t much exceed the standard of the earlier half of the 21^st century.

By some tragic trick of fate, none of that mattered right now. Astolfo had not brought any anesthesia and it was impossible for anything short of a major ritual to so much as phase my soul. My magic resistance also made biomancy impractical.

This revelation was very disappointing to me. It had gone something like this.

“Huh, you’re asking why I don’t have any medical supplies?” Astolfo says as if I were being an idiot. “I have magic for that. If I want to dissect something living, I’ll just rip its soul out.”
“Isn’t there anything?”

“Jealous I’m not ripping your soul out?” Astolfo says, his face tells me he thinks I’m being ridiculous and that I should stop whining. “I can give it a try if you’re really that determined!”

“No!” I answer while raising my hands. “I was asking if you could put me to sleep with your magic!”

“Your soul resistance is higher than a servant of Apathy and your magic resistance might as well belong to an Agatha dragon.” Astolfo says with a shrug. “You didn’t even notice when I was spamming sleep spells on you earlier!”

“Why were you trying to put me to sleep…” I say without truly asking.

I have an ominous feeling about this.

“When coming across new flora, wouldn’t you like to study it?” Astolfo asks. “I just wanted to perform a couple experiments is all.”

“You remind me of one of those Chinese surgeons who lets you schedule your heart transplant.”

Their prominence in the transplant market had dropped after synthetic organs were allowed commercially but they’re still the cheaper option. A lot of the more religious countries also avoid synthetic organs because they’re considered unholy so it’s unlikely for that market to die out.

“What’s wrong with Chinese doctors? Our medical expertise has long since exceeded America’s.” Astolfo sighs before he raises his chin and crosses his arms. “Disregarding your blatant racism, my ethics and professionalism are to die for!”

“You’re from earth too? No, wait; you’re really a Chinese doctor who lets people schedule their transplants?!” My mouth falls open. That would explain a lot. But more importantly, “That does not reassure me! Should I say this is to be expected of the doctor from hell?!”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Astolfo shrugs, ignoring the latter half of what I’d said. “Not really interested in talking about it. I would appreciate it if you didn’t ask too many questions.”

A few minutes later and I foolishly agree to allow him to perform surgery on me. Some sense was knocked into my numb skull around the third time he’d brought the small boulder in his hands down onto my head but by that point it was already too late to refuse.

‘Screw you? Screw your mother. I’m so screwed-’

With that final thought, he savaged brought the stone down upon my skull one more time, I hope, and I lost consciousness. With my eyes rolled to the back of my head he stuffed a block of ice into my mouth.

My eyes shot open and I look to see my bloody body. Shivering, I feel the life drain out of me from the Swiss cheese that was my skin. I think my mouth had frostbite.

“Just a minute.” Astolfo ignores my muffled pleas as he excavated another chunk of debris. “I’m almost done.”

Heal, heal, heal, heal, heal! Why didn’t he use stitches?!

“Good idea. I’d forgotten to use stitches. Usually I just coagulate the blood but that’s not really an option with you.” Astolfo nods smartly as his mithril scalpel makes another cut. “It’s been a while so I’m not quite sure how much blood humans can lose. Most of my patients have been from other species.”

I struggle but my stone restraints keep me in place. Wait, is he reading my mind?!

“No worries, no worries. I can’t read your mind.” Astolfo says without taking his eyes away from his work. “I’m pretty much done. Now I just gotta do a quick checkup.”

It was not just a quick checkup.

I spent the next several hours getting dissected. Bastard didn’t even bother to knock me out again. At least he returned my kidney.

***

The world I entered from was not the world I was born in. I’d come from another world, one where magic was but fantasy. There I’d lived until providence dragged me away and plopped me down into another world.

I’d thought it all an illusion at first and had treated the people as toys for me to do with as I pleased. In my head, I was a god while they were nothing. I was real and they were not. It had been my people who created them and the very purpose of their existence was for my pleasure.

Whatever depraved thought entered my mind, I acted upon. I committed an untold number of evil deeds. Many had I slain out of sheer boredom and frustration that I was so trapped.

I grew to love flexing my might. Sometimes I would go and commit a massacre just to prove that I could and that there was no one who could stop me.

It did not take long for me to convince the world that I was a god. Everyone loved me with such affection it was unnatural. I’d taken this as confirmation that the world had existed only for me. Whether I murdered their family and dismembered them, I’d still be dear to their hearts.

Tributes and offerings were given unto me. Virgin maidens were sacrificed and sent as servants. Kings bowed at my passing. It was a hollow and empty existence filled to the brim with vanity.

As time passed, I began to hate them. I hated how they all held me in such high regard no matter what I did to them. Regardless of how sincere they were, I knew that I did not deserve their praise. To me it was fake; fake people within a fake world.

I hated that so much time had passed but I could not see my family or friends. I hated that I was slowly realizing that everything I’d built in my old world had been for naught.

I became cruel for the sake of it. Before I had not cared for the residence but now I actively sought after their suffering. I reveled in it. Their pain was the price that should be paid by a world that had wronged me so greatly.

Then, one day, I could no longer convince myself that this was a dream. If I were asleep then I would never wake, I’d be forever apart from everyone and everything I had ever loved. I, for the first time, saw them as people.

It was only then that I started to realize how deeply I’d erred. To my very core, I’d become corrupt. Everything I’d hated, I was and I chose to be it willingly.

There’d been many excuses that I’d made and told myself. How was I to know that it was real? It isn’t my fault for the world had just been cruel to me as well. So what if I had burned someone’s mother alive? I had good reasons for it. The lies I tried to tell myself became increasingly ridiculous.

“Didn’t you say something about internet whores?”

“I’d thought them to be art.” I say after a pause. “Do you count a picture as a woman? Wait, didn’t you claim not to know what the internet was?”

“I was originally planning on hiding that I was an earthling.”

It was at the point that I met my bittersweet Absiddy. She was as beautiful as she was bold. A toxic rose covered with thorns. Oh, how deeply her briars had pierced me. Since my arrival, no one before her had ever criticized me to my face. Tears fell from her eyes as she cursed me for murdering her father; the king that I’d killed for reasons I cannot remember. I was damned to the darkest corners of hell by her words. Absiddy cared not that I was a god; she came fully expecting to die by my hand.

I was greatly moved and asked her to marry me.

“How thick is your skin?! Not even a castle wall would be so bold! ” Astolfo exclaims in shock. “You’re more of a scoundrel than I am!”

So, I slew wicked lords and corrupt kings as I searched for redemptions. I would topple the corrupt rulers and judges that oppressed the weak and powerless. My rampage brought forth an age of strife as the barbarians saw their chance and devastated the lands I left in my wake. Famine and death ate away at the populace.

“You deserve everything that has happened to you.” Astolfo said. “What happened with the girl anyhow?”

“She refused and ran away.” I reluctantly answer before continuing my life’s story.

Thus I gave up on my crusade against villainy and focused on revolutionizing agriculture and healing the sick. This I did for five months before the aliens appeared and an opportunity arose to escape the listless mundanity that had become my life.

While I did indeed feel guilty for my actions, that didn’t make me any less of who I am and I am not a good person. I found all the healing and do gooding to be duller than a rusted piece of scrap metal.

Day in and day out, all I had done was heal as I wandered in search of a way home. It was terribly boring. But now I could kill to my heart’s content while being morally justified. I no longer needed to search for a way home because the aliens must’ve gotten here somehow. If I simply tortured their secrets out of them then I’d be brought closer to my goal.

It is on the battlefield against them that I fell into the abyss and found myself in the nightmarish fungal jungle.

“And what happened after that, you already know.” I say with a sigh. “I hope you don’t think less of me for what I’ve done.”

There is much that I had left unsaid. Naturally I also left out the worst of what I did and my most angst ridden moments. Telling him that this body is a video game character is also a no go. The less he knows about my powers, the better.

“Of course I think less of you. ” Astolfo says before adding, “You’re a scumbag.”

“I’ll be making my way away soon.” I say, changing the subject as we walk. I’d received enough help these past few days. “Any advice on what’s edible? I don’t want to go shitting myself to death because I ate the wrong animal or whatever.”

“The tree’s meat is probably the easiest as long as you prepare it right.” Astolfo says. “Not many creatures eat them and they grow pretty quickly. Other than that, I do not eat and therefore do not know.”

“Prepare it?” I ask, eyeing a crystal tree in suspicion. “They’re not poisonous or anything; are they?”

“To eat these fleshy juicy fruity fruits,” he says as he plucks one from a tree. “You need to thoroughly cook it to kill the fetuses that live inside. This is of the utmost importance; if they survive then you’ll…” He pauses. “Anyone but you will die within a day or two as incubators grow from within them.”

“Lovely.” I say eyeing the subject of our conversation with disgust. “I’ve been wondering how you got here, into the abyss. I mentioned how I’d gotten myself stuck in this situation but how’d you manage it?”

“Very willingly, I came here seeking to kill someone.” Astolfo says casually, looking at the flesh fruit with dead eyes. After a moment he adds, “I was not the one who did the killing.”

I pause, he’s smiling. A deranged jagged line stretches across his face. I do not continue the conversation after this point.

***

Screaming and frothing at the mouth they appear. Their blurry figures came into focus as whatever camouflage they were using came undone. I finally got a good look at them. They had the same obsidian skin and sharp teeth as the first creature I’d seen upon my arrival. Unlike the female, they were all clad in armor and wielded wicked curved blades made to cut cloth and meat.

They charged swifter than any man. So light were they on their feet that you would scarcely believe them armored. For reasons I could not fathom, none of them used shields or bows.

Their charge did not last long. The wards etched onto the ground glowed with prismatic light as their armor’s protective runes were neutralized. I was somewhat impressed to see that they were not dissuaded from their charge in the least. If anything, it served to make them more furious.

Stalwart or not, it mattered little. The ground seemed to suck them in, burying them up to their shoulders in an instant.

Humming softly under his breath, Astolfo approaches them as they struggle desperately to escape. Going from person to person, he flicks off their helmets with telekinetic bursts. Dim purple light is pulled from each of their heads and poured into a crystal flask that he’d constructed from the fleshy fruit trees.

He swigs the flask, swishes it in his mouth and spits it back in. Pulling an icy blue light out from his ear, he stuffs it into the nose of a member armored in plate instead of the usual chainmail.
Sucking in a breath and breathing out, a blue mist comes and slithers into their orifices. An upward gesture plucks them out of the ground as they pick their helmets back up and make their way away.

“That’s horrifying.” I scratch my beard. “It feels like associating with you might have been a worse idea than I thought.”

“Remember when you started evaporating me?”

“Yes, remember when you started pulling my guts out?” There’s a silence before I ask, “Why’d you even ask me to come? I feel rather useless.”

“No worries, you are.” Astolfo responds. “I just kept you around in case things went to Avernus and I needed a distraction.”

I snort at that.

“What are these things called?”

“Elves.”

***

I dreamed that night of spiders and webs. I was wrapped tight in a silky cocoon. There were many others like me, I knew. I could neither see nor hear but their presence was felt clearly.

Each movement told me more about everything around me than any of the banal senses I was so used to using could. Each twitch and vibration that emanated through the web painted a vivid story. The beating of their hearts told me my neighbors were asleep. The rhythm of their breathing confirmed it and let me know how far away from me they were.

I feel its approach; a thick syringe dips itself into my neck. Like a millennia old mummy being exposed to air for the first time, I shrivel. Orgasmic pleasure grips my heart in vice. My very essence is…

I awake and the dream combusts into a glorious blaze of golden flame.

“Thank you.”

I send my gratitude to the light as I bask in its radiance.

Everything in this twisted world had been so against me but it had always been with me. It had never betrayed my trust or abandoned me. Whenever I needed it most, it would come in force. In the darkest of days, it would shine brightest.

It had taken my descent into this hellhole to finally appreciate it. I knew that it was my friend. I could almost hear it whisper back to reassure me.

My happiness did not last long.

Numbness eats away at me, a paralyzing bite that had reached the very core of my soul. The fear and panic that had become a constant companion leaves me, emptying me completely. Hollow and meaninglessly, I live on.

A thick layer of apathy drags my heart into a dreamlike haze. The dream returns, whispering promises like Y’Ja had done so often before. Suffering, misery, hardship, heartache; there’d be no more tears to shed. To end it all, I just needed to stop prolonging my own agonizing existence.

“Will it ever end?” I wonder aloud, exhaustion seeping from my every word. Sitting up I look at my shriveled flesh. The weeks I’d spent recovering had vanished in a puff of metaphorical smoke. I answer the new voice that had so rudely intruded into the sanctum of my mind, “If I wanted to die then I would’ve already killed myself.”

Passing through the protective blue film at the entrance, I exit the cave I’d carved into the mountainside with Durandal and head to Astolfo’s residence. On the way, I encounter a pack of pale humanoid creatures.

They crawled across the ground in a group of thirteen. With gray skin stretched taut across their small hunched figures, I would think them malnourished if I hadn’t seen that all of them appear the same. From their mouth, long yellow teeth were visible, lodged within the creature’s massive jaw. Its head was disproportionate, looking far too big for its body, and most of its head was the jaw. For perspective’s sake I measured a tooth and found it nearly a foot in length.

Though these creatures aren’t particularly swift, I’m currently too weak to outrun them. I draw my sword to annihilate the vile creatures but can’t muster the will to bother. With a flick of my sword, light flares in their general direction and they flee from before me.

In the game, the light dealt holy damage to all creatures but that was no longer the case since my transmigration. After destroying a ghost, I had realized that my light conformed to the lore’s rules rather than the game’s mechanics.

Knowing that the lore held true, I was able to more swiftly advance my mastery of holy light. The spell descriptors from the game gave me a general direction to develop my skills in. I think my in-game experience also left its mark on this body and made learning my game spells easier.

It should be mentioned that, while I don’t have my character’s skills or knowledge, some of his traits have sadly bled into my own personality.

I reach the plain where the entrance to Astolfo’s pocket dimension is located without further issue. Despite my previous world having magic, pocket dimensions and portals are a foreign concept to me. The previous world I’d lived in utilized magic primarily through potions and alchemy. There wasn’t much in the way of overt magic if you disregarded the clearly impossible animals populating the wilds.

I’d come to visit often since I hadn’t had much to do. We’d often spar with blade or spell. Despite his appearance, Astolfo is very gifted with the sword. Likely far better than I am. For obvious reasons, he still loses nine times out of ten.

I’d tried terrorizing the wildlife earlier on but I’d gotten scolded for drawing too much attention or whatever. He probably would’ve been mad if I massacred that pack of abominations from earlier.

“I think I might be evil.”

I hear a childish laugh from behind me. It seems he’s exited his little pocket space.

“Think?” A childish voice calls out in schadenfraude. “You’re twice the psychopath and half as cunning as the elves.”

“No, I’m not.” I dismiss listlessly. “That’s just this realm’s influence...”

The Fel’s influence on those who wandered its depths was inescapable. It would twist the minds of all those brave enough to explore it and turn them into a reflection of who they once were. It’d taken a few days of prodding to weasel that out of Astolfo’s mouth.

“Nah, you just have a few screws loose.”

I’m sliding into old habits. Regardless of whatever affects this place has, my actions are still my own. I can’t just relinquish responsibility. I’m a man, not a child.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

“I’ve got something going on.” Astolfo shakes his head. “You can stay out.”

“I wonder; do you enjoy grinding my nerves to dust?” Sudden fury spikes in my heart.

I know he’s lying. The whispers tell me. He’s just disgusted at my company. He’d not touch me with a six foot pole but he needs me for whatever scheme he may be planning. A convenient pawn the edgiest voice in the world confirms.

I grind my teeth together as focus returns to my mind.

“Absolutely.” He nods his head. “Wanna have a go?”

“No.” I let out a sharp breath as the boiling of my rage leaves me and that freezing numbness returns. “It would not be a good idea.”

“Well, stop beating around the bush.” It always strikes me as bizarre whenever they use such an American term. “Are you gonna confess that the source of your absurd linguistic ability is that you’re a millennia old lich deity who’s disguising himself as a human?”

“What?”

“That was a joke. I’ve been switching languages pretty frequently and you’ve always followed along so…” Astolfo says awkwardly, “It’s getting absurd.”

“Why?” I ask in incomprehension.

“I have a bad habit.” He says. “Occasionally I mix up which language I’m using but you kinda just kept going. At first it was just that I’d let myself get distracted and switch but then, when I realized you spoke 15 dead languages fluently, I just went crazy.”

“Crazy?”

“Wait, are you seriously that oblivious?” He starts laughing. “In this very conversation, I’ve been mixing the syllables and sentence structures of twelve different languages!”

He sounds like a chuunibyou brat roleplaying as some poorly designed RP character but I still have to take him seriously. He can rip holes in space and time after all.

“That still doesn’t make sense.” I furrow my brow. “Why would me being a millennia old lich god mean that I would have any idea what you’re saying? You’re claiming to have just been spouting random gibberish and I am inclined to agree. What you said is truly what a gibbering moron who’s played too much Daggers and Drakes would say. What do liches and gods even have to do with anything?”

“Yeah, that’s an interesting question.” Astolfo unrepentantly gives a non-answer.

“And that is not an answer.”

“How can you understand me?” He smiles smugly.

“That is also an interesting question.”

“What’re you seekin’ me out fer?”

I describe the contents of my dream unto him.

“Are you the son of an incarnation?”

“What?”

“Ideals and will are power within the Twisted Madness. This doesn’t hold as true within the Fel Lady’s realm but the dimensional laws aren’t able to completely nix it once you’ve carved your concept onto your soul. Those who’ve accomplished this step are sometimes called Named.” Astolfo utters something nonsensical again. “An incarnation is the collective conception of an idea. A focal point is woven into the universal laws and the conceptual weight is manifested as divinity. Their children are usually innate Named.”

“My parents were ordinary people.”

“Do you think your mother had an affair-“

“Continue on this path and I will smite your ass.” I unsheathe my blade a couple of inches. “Do you intend on answering my question or not?”

“Was that an innuendo?” Astolfo says. “I know you Americans love your freedom but I am a more traditional man. I fully intend on fathering children and have no inclination towards-“

I just glare at him.

“Fine, a servant of Araush tried eating your soul.” Astolfo rolls his eyes. “The insides to be precise, they leave the core structure intact for when they lay their eggs.”

“Fantastic, now how can I not get my soul eaten?”

“Just do whatever you did to get out of it in the first place.” Astolfo shrugs. “Or just don’t sleep. Humans can go a few weeks without sleep right? We’ll be outta here by then.”

“No, they cannot.” I say with a frown. “I’d sooner charge into the city’s center than go so long without sleep. I like my chances of overpowering them more than my odds are with whatever that was.”

“Tch, we’ll leave in a few days in time then.”