Dread runners a litrpg u.., p.6
Dread Runners: A LitRPG Urban Fantasy Dungeon Crawler, page 6
“Fine, fuckers. I’ll go. Better have that defense ready if I come running back.”
“We will,” said the demon with the spiked mace before he addressed the group. “If there is a swarm, we take turns fighting until we kill every last one of them. Understood?”
Horned heads nodded in agreement.
Devon moved to the front, and spun his sword in his hand. He easily made his way down the second floor. The demon poked his head out, a three-way corridor before him.
“Shit,” he muttered as he stepped out.
The demon looked down the corridor before him, before glancing to the ones to his right and left. He took the one ahead of him, stepping into it.
Devon stayed low, staring ahead at the wide corridor.
“The corridor is too wide for their team to defend. They need at least three more members to be effective,” Simon mentioned.
Everyone at his table looked at him.
“How do you know that?” Val asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Simple strategy. They have to work with their strengths. They are the largest team, but not big enough to form an effective defense. They should have gone as one group. Easier to watch each other’s backs.”
Tara gave Simon an angry grin. “Yes, precisely,” she hissed.
The darkling noticed that the women at his table were still looking at him strangely.
“I had plenty of time to read,” Simon smiled.
The tension only grew as the demons formed a simple defense, their backs exposed to the other two side corridors, and the stairs. They watched as Devon made his way deeper along the dimly lit corridor.
All eyes were on the screens, watching silently.
Devon crept along. A smell touched his sensitive nose. He caught sight of an archway at the end of the corridor. Torchlights wavered in the smelly breeze.
The demon moved slowly, and when he was closer to the archway, he put his back flat against the wall. He slid slowly to the archway edge, took a quick inhale, and peeked through the archway.
Almost everyone watching gasped, except for the devils and imps, they shouted “SWARM!”
The camera panned out to see a cathedral-sized chamber. Small fires burned, as hundreds of goblins were either sleeping, resting, or eating. There were several cooking fires, with dead kobolds roasting on splits.
Simon saw the look of horror in Devon’s black eyes.
The camera view shifted to a goblin sleeping beside a crude bell.
“Stay silent,” Simon whispered.
Devon began to slide back, when on the other side of the immense chamber, a group of beautiful fae stepped in with weapons drawn.
“Kill them all!” a fae said with madness in his eyes.
Val threw her head back, and sighed. “The fae can be so stupid. They think they are the heroes of every story.”
Goblins leapt up from their beds. Bells began to ring as shouts echoed. Goblins drew crude weapons as a hundred of them charged in the direction of the three fae.
Two fae brandished swords, while the last one held her staff sideways. They shouted as one as they charged at the incoming goblins. There was a flash from the fae, and the goblins slowed their charge.
“Fae charm. They beguile their enemies as they cut them open,” Tara growled.
For a moment, Simon thought the fae had the advantage. They slammed into the goblin force, slicing, and bashing the smaller, green bodies. Blood spurted as bodies fell. Goblins were slow to react, charmed by the beautiful fae, even when the fae sliced their heads from their necks.
A goblin wearing a black robe, with small bones hanging from it, slammed his hands together. A black wave struck all goblins in the immense chamber, dispelling the charm.
An evil hatred filled the eyes of every goblin, and they roared as they launched into battle.
The three fae fought on as a wave of goblins crashed into them. Simon stared as blades stabbed into legs, and a “1 Hit Damage!” glowed above each fae, followed by another one.
The fae’s heroic attack quickly turned. One of them shouted as his arm was sliced off from the shoulder. The female fae screamed as goblins jumped on her, stabbing her repeatedly with daggers.
The leader fought on as his two teammates turned to dust from the barrage of attacks. He spun around, slicing off a few goblin heads, before swords stabbed into him from all sides.
“I weep in our defeat,” he grinned as blood burst from his mouth, and dripped down his chin.
A second later, he was gone.
“Team Foxfire has perished!” Peter said like a stadium announcer.
Simon glanced out the window to the town center. Three fae appeared on the stone floor, heaving like they just ran a marathon. Other fae went to them, helping them to stand up, and patting them on the back. They were unharmed.
Simon returned his gaze to the screen.
A goblin by a bell glanced down the corridor he was guarding. He saw Devon break into a run, and rang the crude bell hard.
Devon pumped his demonic legs as he heard the bell, and goblin shouts behind him. Ahead of him, four of his teammates were spread apart in the wide corridor.
“Too many! Too many!” Devon shouted.
The Ashford team stood their ground.
“Fall back to the stairs! We will fight there!” Devon shouted.
Behind him, the sound of many footsteps, and clanging weapons followed.
“No!” the Ashford leader shouted. “We will have extra corridors behind us to escape. We must advance to the next level!”
“Devon had the right idea,” Simon whispered as he watched with intense eyes.
“You fucks are terrible at this!” Devon said as he spun around and joined his team as they stood shoulder to shoulder.
Further down the corridor, a wave of bloodthirsty goblins came at them like a raging river.
“I’m not buying drinks,” Devon growled.
“We’ll see who dies first,” the leader said with an evil smirk. “For now, drink your fill of violence, and blood!”
“Team Ashford Assassins!” the demons shouted in unison.
The restaurant was silent once again. Even the devils watched silently.
The wave of goblins reached the line of demons. Many of the smaller, green goblins, leapt up with unbridled rage in their eyes.
The demons leapt up to meet them with roars of savagery. The two sides collided, blood and limbs flying in all directions.
Val licked her lips as the demons tore into the initial wave, turning the corridor into a meat grinder.
The feed was uncensored, as demons hacked into goblins. Auras flared along the demons as they took glancing blows from the goblins. The goblins pushed to their own deaths, as the demons began to take a step back, followed by another.
For a moment, Team Ashford was in sync. They fought like they had fought beside each other their entire lives. Even Devon had become a demonic killing machine, contrasted against his calm, nice demeanor as he put Simon’s chip in his neck. Goblin blood splattered against his face as he sliced goblins in half.
It took only a short time for the tide to change. A demon fell, goblins with short swords and daggers stabbing and hacking at him.
Another demon laughed, saying, “Karter is paying for drinks!” before a dagger stabbed into the side of his neck. A blink later, he turned to dust.
Devon and the team leader put their backs to each other, hacking the goblins to pieces. They didn’t speak, focused on their killing frenzy.
But it was not enough. The team leader roared as he was run through, and turned to dust. A blade penetrated Devon’s back. The IT demon grinned as his head shot forward, bit a large goblin ear, and tore it away like delicate, bloody meat. He spit out the ear with a blood-stained grin.
“Next time!” Devon shouted as goblins piled onto him, stabbing him until he vanished.
“Team Ashford Assassins has been vanquished!” Peter Dread said with digital charm.
Simon glanced to the side, some of the patrons getting up and leaving. The devils and imps were first to go, talking about the dread run with interested eyes.
“What’s happening?” Simon asked.
“Usually, when it’s only one team, many viewers lose interest, especially at the earlier levels,” Roma explained. “Many will go home and watch the rest, or catch it the next day, if the team survives long enough.”
Val stood up from her seat, and looked at her pale wrist. “Look at the time. I need to get home and have a nightcap, or three.”
“I’m going home too,” Bridget said as she stood up.
Tara growled as she too stood up.
“Alright,” Simon said, eager to see the rest at home.
Roma and Simon stood up together.
“Let’s get a car home. Come little duckling,” Val said as she beckoned with a finger, and led the way to the restaurant entrance.
***
The black stretched limo pulled into the cul-de-sac. The driver turned it around before coming to a stop. The doors opened, and the residents of Odd Bog stepped out.
“Such a nice night,” Val said as she breathed in the night air.
Simon put his hand out to Roma as she was stepping out. The witch smiled as she took it, and stepped fully out of the limo.
When the doors were shut, the limo drove off down the road, and was gone from sight.
Val turned to the group with a white, perfect smile.
“That was a lovely night. Always nice for us to get together. We should do it more often.”
Bridget gave Val a hard stare before turning to Simon.
“It was good to meet you, Simon. I hope your stay in our weird little hamlet won’t be too exciting.”
“It was good to meet you too, Bridget. No, I think I will really like living here, and getting to know all of you. My door is always open to my neighbors.”
“Careful,” Val said as she looked at Roma. “Some of us may take advantage of your open hospitality.”
The witch laughed.
Simon nodded. “It was a pleasure to spend time with everyone here.”
There was a small breeze as everyone looked at each other.
An alert filled the edge of Simon’s gaze. He glanced at the others as they too looked to side, also getting alerts.
It read “Discordia Team has perished!”
Rita appeared next to the alert. “The run is over. Team Discordia made it to the fourth floor, before being swarmed by goblins.”
Tara stamped her foot. “I wanted to watch a good run,” she said with a frustrated tone.
Peter Dread’s voice filled everyone’s minds.
“What a run! I know the viewers like longer runs, but considering there was a swarm event, Discordia did an amazing job.
“Team Discordia wins the copper trophy of the week! Congrats to those lovely banshees and their incredible singing voices.”
“Rita, can I view the footage of Discordia’s run,” Simon said out loud.
“Yes, you can view the footage of their run, and any other run on record,” she answered.
Peter’s voice came on again, a degree of excitement in his voice.
“Alright, prepare your ears for our next dread runners! In a week’s time, we will have another three-team run.
“Our first team will be the Bloodstone Hamlet! The champion vampires should make this next run a truly mesmerizing experience. Gregor Black will be leading his crack team of dread runners. It will be an experience to behold as they try to beat their all-time best record.”
“Fuck Bloodstone,” Val hissed.
“Our second team will be the Shipwreck Hamlet! Those wonderful elves from Aquris have been wanting to get back in the dungeon for some time. They are feisty, and eager to shiver the timbers of viewers, and dungeon monsters alike!”
“The pirate elves are a disorganized mess,” Tara growled.
“And finally, the last team no one expected, Odd Bog will be joining the run! Yes, the bottom team will be making their way down the dungeon depths. Maybe they can turn their disastrous streak around, and show the rest of Penumbra Springs what they are made of!”
The group stared at each other.
“Now? So soon?” Bridget said with concerned eyes.
Tara glowered. “They picked us because now we have a fifth team mate.”
“See you next weekend for another dread run!” Peter said before he was gone from their minds.
Val tapped her pale cheek with one finger. “We’ve run the dungeon before, but we’ve been dismal at it. I think you’re onto something my dear Tara. I think the reason why we’re next is because they want to test Odd Bog’s newest resident. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Either way, we’re making a run,” Bridget said, less than enthused.
Simon’s expression was blank, but his inner self glowed with excited energy.
“This is for entertainment and fun. We should give the community something to talk about,” Roma said with a defiant gleam in her green eyes.
“I agree,” Simon said as he glanced at the witch, and nodded.
There was another awkward silence, an uncertainty in the air.
Tara’s white face, and long white hair nearly glowed in the night. Determination filled her pale features as she stood straighter.
“We have one week to train. We start tomorrow evening, and every evening after that until the night of the dread run.”
Everyone watched as the wight turned on her heels, and marched toward her home.
Simon and the rest watched her go.
The darkling smiled as he knew his destiny drew closer.
Chapter 8
Training Night
The sun hung low, close to the horizon. Birdsong filled the air, but with each passing moment, each song slowly faded away. Night was approaching, and the songs would return at dawn’s early light, as feathered bodies huddled close for comfort and protection.
Simon spent his afternoon finding places to put his limited belongings. The house was furnished, but he found little nooks to place small, strange statues, and hung arcane pendants he collected over the years. The home would be a shrine to the dark gods, but it still needed some TLC to make it homey.
Despite being busy, an image of Roma touched his thoughts. The night at the restaurant was enlightening, and interesting. The whole gated community shared a bond, but it didn’t stop the petty rivalries. Even here, the world never stopped being cruel and petty. Still, Roma was a light in the darkness, one he was attracted to.
Simon knew there was a spark, and he knew she knew it as well. He couldn’t pinpoint why? Was it because she was a human mythic, or she simply held a beauty he always found attractive? He couldn’t say, but he knew he had to tread carefully. Emotions caused a lot of pain, and distractions. It was why he kept them locked away. He wore his masks in public, but in private, there was a hunger for more. A need to feast on power, and urges.
Simon blinked, and let out a small, crazy chuckle. The madness licked at his dark soul from as far back as he could remember. It called to him, a need to earn his abilities as a darkling, and satisfy his destiny.
The darkling heard an alarm on his phone.
“Oh, training,” he said like he just remembered where his car keys were.
He fished out his phone, and canceled the alarm.
The darkling turned in his living room, ready to walk to the front door, when he looked down at himself. He was only wearing a black T-shirt, black jeans, and boots. Hardly the gear needed for proper training.
“Maybe Tara will have some items, or armor, I can use,” he said, and walked toward the front door.
The moment Simon opened the front door, he saw a figure dressed in leather and metal armor, standing in the center of the cul-de-sac. Red eyes stared at nothing as a thin metal helmet covered their head. On the ground by the armored figure, were open tote bags, filled with wood swords, bats, and pieces of leather armor.
Simon gingerly walked across his porch, and down the stairs. The evening light cast long shadows as the darkling approached the armored woman.
“Good evening, Tara,” Simon said with a small smile.
The wight grimaced with a smirk. “Good evening. At least you showed up on time. The rest of our team is ALWAYS LATE!” The last words roared loud enough to scare away the birds from several nearby trees.
A door opened and Simon turned. He watched with entranced eyes, Roma walking toward him from her home. She wore a dark green cloak. Underneath were green yoga pants, a leather corset with small, stylish pockets. She had a green shirt on, but how the corset hugged her, it pushed her pale, freckled cleavage up, high, and tight. She had a wood staff in her hand, and a small smile across her lips.
“Evening, Mr. Shade,” Roma said with a playful tone.
“Evening, Ms. Norwood,” Simon said with a gleam in his dark eyes.
Tara bent over in a blur, grabbed a wood bat, and swung it at Simon’s leg. The impact caused his leg to bend up, and he hopped around on one foot.
“No flirting during training!” the wight growled.
“Ow! Hey!” Simon said with a half laugh. There was little to no pain, but he thought it would be funny enough to make Roma giggle.
And giggle the witch did. She covered her mouth, and looked away in amused delight.
Two more house doors opened. Simon put his foot down. He, Roma, and Tara, turned to see Val and Bridget approach them.
Val wore a poet shirt, with a leather body suit that ran from her ankles to just under her breasts. The white sleeves were puffy, like a French fencer garment. Two wood handles poked up from past her slender shoulders. The vamp wasn’t wearing her glasses as she walked, her eyes dark, with pinpoints of crimson dots. She wore leather gloves, as her pale features glowed in the dying sunset light.
Bridget wore a full, padded, black bodysuit. She was weaponless as she approached, her black and white hair braided in a long ponytail. Her hands, neck, and head were uncovered. Despite her shy demeanor, Simon caught a hint of thunderous power in each of her steps. He could see she was a confident fighter, but may lack the confidence for social situations.
