Chapter 95

  Barrier Guardian, Part IV (Dance Macabre, 1 of 3)

  Dave takes a casual look around, as though he were just dropped into an apartment he was considering renting (not a monster-filled swamp in an entirely different world).

  Dave!

  My old manager from Save?Some?Bucks. The guy who used to tackle every early morning shift with so much… joy. The guy who literally exploded in front of me in the break room on the day the System arrived to Earth.

  And now he’s here. In one piece, and not painting my shoes with his insides. The drudged up memory makes my stomach do uneasy backflips. I swallow the sick boiling up my throat and hold it down.

  “Dave?!” It’s the only word I’m able to choke out.

  “Yessiree!” Dave says, giving me that familiar thumbs?up like he’s approving a coupon return. He looks exactly like I remember. A short, older average-looking white dude. Slightly pudgy around the middle, with a neatly trimmed blond goatee. He’s wearing the khakis that have the same blue stain near his left pocket from the time his ballpoint pen had exploded. The same red Save?Some?Bucks polo, logo slightly crooked like it was ironed by someone who didn’t care.

  My brain stalls. But something deep within me—perhaps the fear of being deleted by a gigantic headless horseman—shakes me back to my senses.

  “You’re supposed to be dead!” I shout over the distant thunder of the approaching Guardian.

  “I am dead!” Dave replies, beaming.

  That doesn’t help me in the slightest. Did I just perform necromancy?

  “I watched you die!” I say, pointing at Dave. “You blew up!”

  Dave nods sympathetically, only to pause. His eyes widen. “Heavens to Betsy! I blew up?!”

  I only vigorously nod my head in response.

  “Well, I never mean to lose my temper. I guess the prospect must have been quite the surprise… Before it happened.”

  Pause.

  “No. You really exploded. Like into a thousand pieces, dude!”

  “Oooohhh!...” he says, nodding. “Yeah no. That most certainly happened. Tough tomatoes, but that’s just how it goes sometimes, ya know?”

  The Guardian lets out a hollow, echoing sound somewhere between a horse’s scream and a funeral bell. The eerie wail rattles me to my core.

  I don’t take my eyes off Dave. “Then what the hell are you? How are you here right now?”

  Dave taps his temple with one finger. “Well, Joe, I’m what you’d call a Facsimile.”

  My HUD flickers, and a translucent blue screen pops into my vision.

  LESSER SUMMONING: SUCCESSFUL!

  Interplanar Ally Detected: Dave (Kind-hearted Branch Manager)

  [Memory-Derived Facsimile]

  Description: Dave. A simple man, with a kind heart. He once took in a down-on-his-luck, depressed ex-Finance bro and treated him like a prized employee despite displaying a lack of effort, let alone leadership potential. Despite barely making a living wage, Dave dedicated his life to the management of his local grocery store. What he lacks in raw power, he makes up for in can-do attitude!

  Dave spreads his arms like he’s presenting a sale display. “I’m printed from magic using the mold of your memories of me. Think of it like… a magical cardboard cutout we’d use on the aisle endcaps at the store, but with better conversational skills!”

  “Right, so you’re not really Dave…” I mutter. The thought is actually quite comforting.

  “Well,” he says thoughtfully, “I’m not not Dave. That’s a little hurtful, Joe…”

  I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again.

  “Fair enough,” I say, lamely. “So, uh… Any chance you can help me with that?” I point towards the approaching Barrier Guardian, sparing a glance towards my near-empty Stamina bar, slowly ticking upwards.

  We knew this Spell would practically bottom out my temporarily expanded Stamina pool, but I have an enhanced potion crafted by Preston waiting for me. Before the battle he advised me that it was most effective once I had twenty-five percent or more of my max Stamina. Based on how my bar is replenishing, I have about thirty seconds til then.

  Dave looks past me at the towering Barrier Guardian, lantern swinging as it advances.

  “Nope!” Dave says. “I’m just same ole’ Dave! Though I’m missing a few things… For example, I don’t remember my childhood. Or my favorite movie. Or why I divorced my second wife. But I do remember how to de?escalate angry customers and enforce store policy.”

  The Guardian takes another step forward, skeletal horse crushing trees beneath its hooves.

  Dave cracks his knuckles.

  “So,” he says brightly, turning back to me, “why don’t I give this guy a try? He doesn’t seem half as bad as the folks we see during the pre-holiday rush!”

  Dave takes a step forward.

  “Alright there, big guy,” he says, all customer?service voice and midwestern pleasantry. “Why don’t we just take a deep breath and—”

  The world dims as whatever light there was in the surrounding air is visibly sucked away, drawn into the hooded lantern wielded by the Guardian. Shadows stretch, and color bleeds from the world. It’s like someone just cranked the saturation slider all the way to zero.

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  The black iron lantern sways slightly on the Guardian’s arm, the sickly green flame inside dancing lazily as liquid shadows boil and curl around it.

  Fuck, I think, mind frantically trying to remember everything I’ve been told about this monster. What did Walter say about its lantern again?

  I take a big ol’ step back. Then another. Then one more, because the horse just moved. I eventually creep backwards far enough to make my way out of the strange shadow-effect of the lantern.

  The Guardian’s skeletal horse brings one of its hooves down near Dave with the weight of a collapsing building. The sound is a wet crunch mixed with the groan of tortured earth.

  Dave stumbles to the side. “Ope!”

  That little midwestern grunt like he just bumped someone with a shopping cart.

  I’m already scrambling back, reaching into my Inventory with shaking fingers and pulling out my Enhanced Stamina Potion. The glass is cold in my hand, like a chilled beer mug. My eyes flick to my HUD. Stamina at twenty-one percent. Almost there!

  What a waste of a summoning spell! This battle is off to a fantastic start. But nothing we can do about that now.

  I squeeze the bottle, knuckles white. “Son of a bitch, Dave,” I mutter. “Please tell me you can do something here!” The System’s description of this Facsimile doesn’t do much to instill me with confidence.

  Dave holds up both hands, palms out disarmingly.

  “Now I’m sure you’re just doing your job,” he says calmly, voice high and firm like he's trying to talk down a Grade-A Karen in aisle three. Like he’s done thousands of times before. “But so am I! Technically! So let’s both take a sec—maybe talk to a supervisor, huh? Maybe there’s a—”

  The Guardian moves.

  One moment Dave’s standing there, talking.

  The next, the horse stomps. Straight down, as if it’s not even aware Dave is standing there. Just an insect on the sidewalk.

  There’s a sound like a watermelon hitting pavement, only louder and wetter.

  The horse lifts its front hoof, and Dave’s gone.

  No dramatic death scream. No final words. Just gone. Flattened like a soda can.

  A spray of gore is left where the store manager once stood.

  The Guardian stares ahead, lantern swinging gently.

  I stare at the red smear that used to be Dave.

  “…He really didn’t stand a chance,” I whisper.

  Then I drink the potion.

  There’s no time to mourn Dave’s second death. The Headless Harbinger’s jack-o-lantern head turns, slowly, ponderously. Before turning and marching its steed away from our location. Light bleeds back into the surrounding area.

  Its skeletal mount creaks as it pivots, and the horrible iron lantern swings on a rusted chain. The aura it drags along makes the trees wilt. The leaves curl and blacken like someone’s waving a blowtorch of despair under them. I’m glad I didn’t have to learn how my Health bar would react whatever aura effect the Guardian is emitting.

  I let go of a shaky breath, just as the System notifications hit.

  Interplanar Ally Dave has been defeated by Headless Harbinger!

  Skill Triggered!

  Interplanar Ally [Dave]: Parting Ability – Midwest Nice.

  All hostility from Headless Harbinger has been temporarily diffused. Monster aggression has been redirected to a new target.

  “What the hell?” I breathe.

  Before I can parse any of it, I feel a tug at my ankle.

  Jelly Boy. The slime is grabbing at my leg with an extended gooey pseudopod, his whole body bouncing excitedly. A second formed appendage stretches toward the trees in the direction the Guardian has just turned.

  He’s bounding in place, in an absolute panic.

  “What is it—?”

  I follow the direction he’s pointing.

  Oh no.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  The Guardian is marching in the direction of a new target for its aggression… Liv!

  “FUCK!”

  Ping!

  Another flash of System notifications as I feel the Enhanced Stamina Potion take effect.

  Stamina recovered to 100%!

  Additional effect activated: Improved Efficiency!

  Improved Efficiency: Physical effort will deplete Stamina more slowly as your body will more efficiently use its energy reserves. Effect lasts for two minutes.

  “Plan B!” I shout, bending low and scooping up Jelly Boy into my arms. The slime nestles in tightly, ready for what’s about to happen.

  He lets out a triumphant warble, limbs retracting as he curls into travel mode.

  And then we’re off.

  [Speed Boost] activated!

  The cursed jorts burn with energy as I trigger the Skill, leaving streaks behind me as I launch forward. Trees blur past either side of me and cold air slaps my face. The stench of swamp rot and impending death curl into my nostrils as I use the boost of speed to catapult myself ahead of the Guardian.

  Liv is out there, somewhere beyond the trees.

  Our healer. My sister. Alone.

  Shit, I hope this works! I silently pray.

  I break through the tree line like a lunatic, skidding into a small clearing where I have a clear angle on the giant horse’s spindly legs. Jelly Boy is vibrating with tension in my arms, and I don’t even slow down before barking, “There!”

  I drop the slime, and he hits the mossy ground with a bounce and a blorp.

  Time seems to slow around me as I focus in on our target. Now or never, I think.

  I strike the requisite focus pose, and cast [Slimy Shield]. A circular membrane of translucent blue slime forms in the air in front of me, glittering with the residue of fresh magic.

  Now, for the big one.

  I grind my teeth and reach deep.

  I flex again, my biceps straining as I squeeze and activate [No Pain, No Gain]. I don’t go overboard with it, choosing only to pump a small amount of Health and additional Stamina into the spell.

  The pain explodes through me, a brief white-hot lance of agony behind my eyes as my own spell siphons just a little more than I was intending. But it’s worth it.

  A giant right hand erupts into existence beside me. It’s larger than usual, the fist about half the size of my own body, and it’s glowing darker than usual too: violet and bristling with arcane veins.

  “Go!” I bark.

  The hand slams forward, punching through the Slimy Shield with a wet, explosive SHPLORRRRK.

  Goo detonates outward like someone hit a pi?ata full of blue snot.

  “NOW!” I scream.

  Jelly Boy lets out a battle cry that sounds suspiciously like a triumphant kazoo fart.

  Ally Jelly Boy has activated [Residual Casting]!

  Residual Spell: [Wizard’s Fist].

  My [Aura Sense] fires and I can feel the urgency that Jelly Boy casts the spell. He’s afraid. Afraid for Liv. He wants to save her just as badly as I do. And he uses a substantial amount of his mana, upcasting the spell even more than I had anticipated.

  The air bends and the shrapnel of slime coalesce in the space once occupied by my shield spell. A new hand forms—his hand—Jelly Boy’s hand.

  It’s massive, shaped entirely from thick cerulean slime, shimmering with internal lights like a lava lamp. The wrecking ball sized slime-formed fist ripples once, twice. And then it rockets through the air.

  Jelly Boy’s Wizard’s Fist finds its target, crashing against the skeletal warhorse’s ribs with a CRRRRAKKKOOOOOM!

  I blink as the impact lifts the entire horse off its feet. The bones shatter and the air around the Guardian quakes. Its hooves flail once before the thing crumples like a sack of bowling pins. The Guardian goes down with it, toppling sideways like a Macy’s Day Parade float unexpectedly deflating mid parade route.

  The collision sets off two of Jelly Boy’s hidden light mines, erupting skyward in beams of divine-style radiance, painting the trees in blinding white and blue. The eruption momentarily disrupts the Guardian’s aura effect, the saturation returning to the area of the collapsed horse. But just as soon as the beams of light fade, the leeching shadows crawl skyward, filling the air.

  The horse is a mess—splintered, smeared with blue goo, sizzling from the slime’s acid as the splattered fist devours the beast. It twitches once, then stills.

  “YES!” I shout, pumping a victorious fist. “Direct hit!”

  Then, the sky burns.

  A figure rises above the top of the swamp’s trees. The Headless Harbinger pulls itself out from under its fallen steed. The jack-o-lantern face turns, its carved face now twisted into a scowl so malevolent it should come with a PG-13 warning. Flames lick at its carved frown.

  And then the black candle inside flares. Dark fire erupts from its carved eyes and mouth, tendrils of violet and obsidian flame licking outward in all directions.

  The trees around us curl and blacken and moss ignites. The air tastes like bitter ash.

  “Oh,” I say, voice trembling. “Shit.”