Chapter 2

Adrian stared at the open door. He had waited, was still waiting right now. He questioned why he was waiting and how long he would have to wait.

The knight was in there. Just in that corridor, to the left and through the door.

The monster that had killed him.

It felt real and like a dream at the same time. He quivered as he clasped his naked chest, feeling only skin and fat where the wounds should have been. One hand moved to his throat as he gulped, remembering how it had felt, the cold steel piercing his skin, cutting off the air. He didn’t dare look down.

It had been the worst physical pain he had ever experienced. Exceeding all his worst expectations. His knees moved close to his chest before he hugged them, eyes still focused on the doorway.

I should go and close it. What if he hears me? Let’s just stay here. At least move behind the tree and hide. What’s the point? I’m naked and have nothing.

That’s not true.

He focused inward again and once more found what he did not have before. What no human should have.

Soulbound:

Essence – -100

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9

Skill – 8

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

Soulbound. Does that mean my soul was taken? Am I just a husk now? Bound to some demon?

His level was straightforward. A big fat zero.

The rest resembled what he remembered from some of the role playing games Baxter had shown him. In the end, it really was a status. Something given to the heroes to prevail against the evil in their world. Or simply something to show the watcher that they were progressing, became more powerful.

He was worried about the minus one hundred on his Essence, whatever that meant.

It helped, looking at the numbers. There was a calm that came over him as he stared within himself.

However nothing was alright. Nothing at all.

I was brought to this fucking place and I died, painfully. I just want to go back and sleep, curl up in bed and maybe get Steve next week.

“Fuck,” he cursed quietly to himself, scared that the knight would hear.

And now I don’t even have my fucking pajama.

He was stressed. Marco had told him that he started to curse more if he was stressed.

Well he would be stressed too if he got killed and came back to life somehow. What if this isn’t even me? Just a copy and the real me died, still…, he thought of his corpse still lying there, just inside the hallway and to the left.

A cold shiver moved down his back.

His thoughts threatened to overwhelm him again but he focused on his breathing, closed his eyes and looked inward. Slowly, he calmed down.

There is an issue and I have to solve it.

I’ve woken up in this castle. Nothing has approached me, it’s not a prank and there is nobody that wants me to do anything. It happened by chance? Or I’m being toyed with by a being I don’t know.

That will bring me nowhere.

I know there is a knight in the hall to the left. Which means I should avoid that.

I have some form of statistic summarizing my Vitality, Strength et cetera. Meaning there is a way to increase my strength. Like in a video game. Either that or it’s just there to show how pathetic I am.

His heart rate had calmed down by now, his body no longer shaking as his mind focused on the problems at hand. He didn’t look at it anymore from the perspective of himself and instead saw it as an issue reported to him, by himself.

Sadly, he was also the poor sob that had to fix it.

I need to find out how all this works and then I need to find a way to go back home.

Simple.

He had found that a simple approach was usually the right one. At the start at least.

Break down the mountain into manageable pieces and go from there, he reminded himself. Something Marco told him five years ago. Applicable both for the job and otherwise.

Adrian vaguely remembered that it was him who mentioned the quote to Marco in the first place. A long while ago when everything had gone to shit. Ten customers down because of a storm and the subsequent power outage.

A lot had happened between that day and now but Adrian tried to remember, tried to bring back the person he had been back then. It was impossible of course. Too much had changed.

And yet he could focus on the practical. It wasn’t something he had known to do inherently. He had learned to deal with problems through experience and training. And now, perhaps he was facing one of the most complicated ones he had ever seen.

He had tried looking inward for more guidance, perhaps a detailed description or further information on the values he now carried or the meaning of Essence.

There was nothing.

With the presence of his status, he at least had a tread to hold onto. Something to ground his sanity. This place was real and so were these numbers.

They might also represent a way for him to overcome a knight without decades of training in swordplay.

The first piece he wanted to take care of was clothing and weaponry. He would ignore the knight on the left but there were other doors still closed, other ways he could challenge.

Adrian had no intention of ever feeling the pain again that he would remember vividly for the rest of his life. If he could see numbers in his soul, then magic must be real. If magic was real, it was the way to get back home.

Muscles and swords wouldn’t help him in that.

Intelligence and Wisdom then. As well as Vitality, to maybe survive a little more than a human should, he thought and smiled wryly. He already survived more than he should have.

Don’t think on the specifics. You are here, you are real.

He focused on his hands and balled them into fists.

Clothes and weapons. A rifle would be best.

Adrian froze when he realized that his next step would include going back into that corridor.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice at least back at the deep end of the spectrum.

With all the shit that had happened, at least the nakedness didn’t bother him too much.

Come on, move. The longer you wait, the harder it will get. You have work to do.

It was difficult to convince himself. The same conversation happened most days when he had work. Sometimes he prevailed, most of the time, he didn’t.

The main reason that he got out of bed at all was the fact that other people relied on him, which made the days he failed sting all the more.

Right now this was an issue. The projects he was involved in paled compared to the experience of dying. Fuck work.

The thing that finally got him moving was the memory of the dog he was supposed to pick up next week. Steve.

Both Baxter and Marco had been thrilled when he had finally agreed to get a pet, a dog even as they had suggested. He hadn’t been convinced until he met the little bugger.

Five years old already, rescued from an abusive owner when he was three. One of his eyes was shut and his tail was a little crooked.

Adrian wasn’t overly sentimental or emotional and the last years hadn’t exactly improved on that. However that dog was different. For some weird reason. Maybe the one eye and the tail or it was just the ancient nurtured relationship between humans and dogs.

It didn’t matter. He would get that dog and he would take care of it.

And that isn’t possible if I’m here, in this shitty place.

He stood up.

He stood up and walked to the open gate. A shiver went through him as a breeze of cold wind reached the terrace and he was once more reminded of his death.

Fuck.

He moved his head through the opening and glanced left.

The door was closed. Ah, yeah. I closed it. Good job Adrian.

He moved silently into the corridor, not difficult without shoes or any gear.

There were four doors opposite the outside wall, plus the two at the respective ends of the long hallway.

Adrian chose the right most door from the four in front of him. It was open.

He glanced inside and saw very little. Once more there was no light source other than the sun shining in through the windows. Soon it would set. He really, really didn’t want to be stuck here without any light.

The room looked like another office. This time Adrian made sure to carefully check every corner until he was sure there was nobody waiting for him.

Adrian was sure that nobody had stepped into this office for quite some time, the air was stuffy, a faint layer of dust visible on everything near the door.

Yes! He rejoiced in his mind when he found a small oil lamp on a cabinet.

He touched it and realized that he had no clue how to work the thing. His hand brushed over the glass part on top, a layer of dust sticking to his hand before he instinctively moved to clean it off on his pants.

No pants.

He instead decided to ignore it for now. There were matches next to the lamp. He hoped they still worked.

Now, before I waste them I should see if there is oil left and where I have to ignite it without causing a mess.

Adrian played with the mechanisms for a couple minutes before he thought he had figured it out. Pushing down a small lever, he lit one of the matches and held it inside the now heightened glass container.

The oil started burning lazily within the lamp, causing him to smile in the now a tiny bit brighter room.

He left the matches where they were and grabbed the thin metal handle of the lamp before he explored the rather spacious office.

There were books, clad in thick leather covers and writing he couldn’t read or even place. He found quills and dried out ink as well as documents that had been left behind in a hurry, some of them on the floor.

The wooden chair behind the desk caught his eye, some of the pieces might be suitable as a crude weapon. Nothing to beat a knight with.

It would be a start.

You could get that fire iron from your corpse.

He ignored the thought, instead focusing on searching through the office.

Adrian found a dagger in one of the drawers, pretty sure that with the design, it was likely intended as a letter opener.

The thing was still sharp and felt light in his hands. He was afraid he would cut himself with the thing and looked for a sheath, unsuccessful in his search.

What he did find however were several pairs of fancy pants and shirts stored in a chest. All in gray and certainly not made of something that would stop a sword.

He noted that there was no underwear nor socks or shoes. Still, it certainly was an upgrade.

They all had the same size, too small for him by quite a margin. Adrian didn’t much care. Many of his childhood clothes had been a little too small so he was used to the sensation. And looks were the last thing he cared about right now.

He was unable to close the buttons on the shirt however. The belly made it impossible with his already broad frame.

Dagger, lamp and clothes. This is already a major success.

Adrian searched the rest of the room and found little of use. A wealth of knowledge likely hid within the dozens of books as well as the documents and letters, useless to him right now.

Another surprise showed when he looked inward once more. Something had changed.

Soulbound:

Essence – -100

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [10]

Skill – 8 [11]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

So my Strength and Skill are higher now? Or what does that mean?

He thought about attacking thin air with his dagger but decided to try using a quill first, to make sure he wouldn’t injure himself in an empty office.

It did feel like he could move the thing rather well. Then again it might just be a placebo effect. Or it simply wasn’t that hard to attack air with a quill.

Hmm. The only thing that changed is the stuff I’m wearing. What.

Soulbound:

Essence – -100

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [10]

Skill – 8 [10]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

My Skill changed again. Wait-

He picked up the dagger and smiled. There it is.

Soulbound:

Essence – -100

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [10]

Skill – 8 [11]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

So the dagger gives me plus one for Skill?

So the stuff I wear and use does have an effect it seems.

Adrian tried looking inward but instead focused on the clothes he was wearing, the dagger in his one hand and the oil lamp in the other. Nothing seemed to happen until he thought of his equipment in general. Another list showed itself.

Equipment:

Helmet –

Chest – Faenhold Knight Shirt [Adequate]

Strength +1

Arms –

Hands –

Belt –

Legs – Faenhold Knight Pants [Adequate]

Skill +2

Boots –

1h Weapon – Letter Opener [Adequate]

Skill +1

2h Weapon –

Off Hand – Oil Lamp [Common]

“Mhmm,” he mused with a smile on his face. Focus idiot, you died earlier.

And still, seeing the list somewhat reassured him. He wasn’t in a game and this wasn’t a dream. There was a knight waiting to kill him but he had tools at his disposal. Tools beyond what a human had on earth.

He would have still preferred a loaded hunting rifle but with these things, he felt like there was a chance, if only a slight one.

That also means this place is called Faenhold. Or the knight was here as a guest? Irrelevant right now. What’s relevant is that equipment can make me stronger.

Adrian didn’t know how the stat points actually affected his body and mind but he was sure they had a reason to be there. If they were merely a representation of his present abilities, then why would holding a dagger increase his Skill? He would test it all but right now he saw little opportunity to do so.

I need to fill all those slots as soon as possible, he thought and put down the dagger, searching through the room once more. A belt had a completely different meaning if it could increase his Vitality or Strength.

Sadly his first round had been thorough. Nothing else uncovered, he took a deep breath and clasped the dagger in his right hand, the oil lamp in his left.

I should get a feel for the weapon, he thought, very much aware that he was stalling for time. To do anything but go to the next room. He knew just as much that it was inevitable. Either that or he would rot here and starve. Or die of thirst but he assumed it at least rained here sometimes.

The dagger felt good in his hand but he could have just as well been holding a kitchen knife. An axe or broadsword would have provided some more confidence.

Ten minutes passed and at this point Adrian was pretty much just delaying. He gulped once more and focused on the thought of Steve.

“Do it,” he murmured to himself and stepped out into the corridor. His feet felt cold on the marble and he saw that the sun had moved, the light now falling into the hallway with a steeper angle.

Probably another hour of light, he thought and looked at his oil lamp. Then it’s just me and you, buddy.

The next door looked the same as the one before. Adrian looked to his left again to see if the knight had come to open the door at the end of the hallway. The exit remained closed.

He put down the lamp and slowly opened the door with his now free hand. It went inward but he stopped moving it to pick up the lamp once more.

A nudge from his foot moved the door farther back. It looks fucking dark in there, he noted. Might as well try.

Adrian moved a little closer and tapped the metal part of the oil lamp with his dagger. The noise was louder than expected but he remained calm, forcing himself not to glance to the left.

A soft moan resounded within the dark room. He immediately took three steps back and waited, soon hearing shuffling and then steps.

“Who’s there!” he said, entirely too loud. This time he did glance left for a second. When he focused on the room again, he saw someone step out with unsteady movements.

A woman judging by the her body. She hit the door frame and stepped into the light. A gruesome appearance. Her flesh was rotten, her eyes milky and her teeth yellow, near brown. She made a gulping sound and focused on him.

Adrian was stunned, the grip on his weapons tight as he took in the sight.

She ran, right at him.

He stepped back and felt her hands digging into his shirt, her nails scratching at his skin. Adrian moved his left hand, slamming the oil lamp onto her head.

It splintered in a crash, the whole bottom opening up as oil splattered onto both him and the woman. It ignited with the flame and started burning both his shirt and skin. Splinters of glass had dug into his hand as he flailed in pain, trying to put out the fire.

The woman was stunned by the blow and fell, losing her balance before she too flailed at the fire, splinters of glass jutting from the side of her head.

“Fucking hell!” He ripped off his burning shirt and threw it at the woman, hitting his own chest to get off the burning oil. He already felt the pain but right now, adrenaline prevailed.

Adrian watched as the injured woman got up, her momentum slamming her into the wall before she ran at him again.

He stepped back and held out the dagger, the crazed woman scratching at his chest as she impaled herself on the blade, pushing further as she continued her assault.

Adrian wailed in pain before he moved the blade down with all the strength he could muster, cutting a deep gash through the tattered gray garb. Dark red, near black blood seeped through and the movements soon stopped.

He waited until the woman slid to the ground, the weight ripping the dagger from his hand as he took another step back, breathing heavily with dozens of small bleeding gashes on his chest as well as the signs of a rather nasty burn.

“That fucking hurts,” he said as he looked around, waiting for another monster to come and kill him.

There was nothing.

A minute later, the adrenaline faded and the extent of his injuries started showing. He needed something to clean the wounds, something to cool the burn and pain meds, strong ones at that.

“I’m so damn fucked.”

Soulbound:

Essence – -92

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9

Skill – 8 [10]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

Equipment:

Helmet –

Chest –

Arms –

Hands –

Belt –

Legs – Faenhold Knight Pants [Adequate]

Skill +2

Boots –

1h Weapon –

2h Weapon –

Off Hand –