Rule 11

Lies Are Hard & Monsters Spawn

Statement: Every single written text is in a different language. It took me time to realize my own writing was transforming as well. I remember writing words, ordering my thoughts, but it’s impossible to apply logic to the sentences.

Single words sometimes stay unchanged. Two words paired together read wrong. Single letters are occasionally okay, but writing A through H turns into a jumble. This stinks of deliberate design. What magic causes a change in the text? Why only some words and not others?

The trip home was far less exciting. I holed up in my house and drank copious amounts of liquor. I only had one day left to handle my business then I’d have to travel downtown or risk surviving at night without any security. Those mini-orcs were like swarming cockroaches.

I struggled to read more books and almost made sense of three words. The heavy amounts of drinking led me to guess badly at all sorts of answers. Blurry faux letters hopped around on the page to line up in a new order.

My belief, for at least three beers, was that heavy drinking made reading easier. I pissed in a toilet that still flushed but no new water came in. The creature upstairs growled to remind me that humming happily also counted as noise.

At the fifth beer, my night blurred together. I remember getting out the book and playing with the brown spells to try to figure out something, and blacking out.

I woke and the house smelled worse than before. A combination of sour musk, rotten meat, and morning breath tore into my nose. The room almost felt familiar. I’d been this messed up a few times after getting into the accident.

The world blurred poorly together. Thick slime coated my throat and tongue. The barricade against a window revealed afternoon light. I must have passed out early in the morning. Without functioning clocks my sense of time was turning to crap. Drinking had been a bad idea.

A rhythmic pounding came from the front room; despite the sheer unlikelihood of someone knocking on the door. My body felt a bit better than yesterday. I’d been in pain often and knew such healing was unnatural. Only a headache remained; strong enough to keep me from thinking clearly.

My house guardian didn’t stop the knocking. There were no growls. I might have killed for a windup up clock or wristwatch. Then it hit me, maybe my time was over.

I peeked through a side bedroom window which gave me a decent view on the front porch. There were a few dead mini-orcs. I watched as they faded into orbs of light which zipped to the front.

A muscled blonde in plate armor stood at the door. He had a giant hammer. I was fairly sure he had been my bus driver but the man’s name escaped me. It might have been weeks, or months, or an eternity since we last saw each other. The chances of someone I know making it through that line were slim. Then surviving in this world added another layer of complexity.

I expected him to stab me or ask for money. Fingers behind my back curled into the explosive rune’s pattern. My limbs felt weird, longer and frail. He could have been a trick of this strange place. I dithered outside the door while the sounds of occasional mini-orcs and loud clangs came through the door.

By the time I opened the door, he’d fought off another small wave of the minor monsters. I made a mental note to figure out how so many of them kept showing up. They bred faster than the rabbit chickens. Maybe they were simply spawning from thin air.

“What?” I asked.

He reared his head and hastily wiped blood off a gauntlet which had a golden film over it. I found that silly because the blood would fade along with the mini-orcs when they turned into energy.

“Excuse me, miss, have you heard about our Lord and Savior, Mayor Kent?” He spoke without a hint of stammer.

My eyebrows lifted in mild amazement. Here was a man who'd stopped by in the middle of chaotic earth and still managed to sound polite while wearing blood-drenched heavy armor. There was only one real problem, aside from showing up on my family’s doorstep.

“Miss?” I questioned while squinting. A girl I was not.

“But you look…” I would have cursed or thought dirty thoughts. He stayed professional and polite but I suspected he was faking it. No one could be so friendly.

The man’s name hit me. Leon. The bus driver still managed to sound meek and apologetic despite wearing thick armor.

I felt beyond annoyed and swooned with a hang over. It made the morning light and his face even worse than normal. “What? How are you even here?”

“I was looking for Mister Underwood. He should be living here.”

That didn’t answer the more important question. Leon never struck me as a smart man, but he also drove buses for a living. It was a rude thought and I struggled to be friendly. That took more work than expected.

“Why?” I said slowly so he couldn’t mistake my question for something more evil, like “Die” or “Pie.” Maybe a year ago before my accident I could have been a nice friendly person. Now, I wanted to stab him and go back to bed. Being hungover did not help.

“I was sent to pick Mayor Kent’s son up once his three days has past. The home is no longer protected. Perhaps he left early?”

My eyes fluttered briefly and I fought not to trigger the explosive spell. I imagined applying it to my pants and kneeing him in the face for all those times he locked my wheelchair up wrong. A dainty laugh escaped that I choked before it got too rude.

“I live here.”

“You do?”

“Clearly.”

“But you don’t look like Mayor Kent.”

“Says the man wearing glowing plate armor.”

He raised eyebrow. “And you don’t sound the same.”

My face split in a smile as I said, “All the better to eat you with.” The problem was, I actually almost felt that way. Part of me wondered what sort of prize Leon would give upon death.

“What?”

I wasn’t about to apologize for skipping a few lines. We were basically doing a bad version of the red riding hood skit and that annoyed me.

“Who sent you?”

“Our Lord and Savior, Mayor Kent.”

For the umpteenth time I considered exploding his face and wondering what loot might drop. That struck me as weird because only yesterday I’d been having qualms over fighting the giant and his wife.

The thought made me sick. Thinking about something and actually doing it were completely different. I’d killed two other survivors yesterday and fought mini-orc creatures because they were out to kill me. It was about continuing to live and I’d need to make peace with necessity.

I turned my thoughts to Leon’s words. Mayor Kent sounded familiar. My dad’s first name was Kent, but he’d never been a mayor of anything.

“Did you get changed? That’s dangerous. Means you’re treated like a monster,” Leon asked slowly. He kept his arm up and the dark yellow glow kept flickering into being. “Are you sure you’re his son?”

“No,” I said. The idea that being transformed made me a monster fit with what I’d seen so far. It also possibly meant that if I were human enough, then I wouldn’t be a target. Unless we were fighting over food, water, money, or monsters that gave rewards. Cynicism felt natural.

“Then how are you living in his house? It’s protected,” Leon asked. Anyone else would be aggressive. Leon acted prepared to fight but he kept trying to be friendly. His eyes were slightly glazed and lips faltered into a smile. He fought it though.

There was only one answer worth giving. “Magic.”

He looked left slowly then up and over his shoulder. Creatures were in the bushes across the street. I ignored them, because in one swift movement it would be possible to lob a bomb over and send them scattering.

“Your skin’s like a monster. Kind of like the one down the street we’d staked out for retribution.”

Retribution worried me. The word was only used by religious zealots and crazy people who lived on soapboxes. I sniffed and looked over the skin on my arm. It wasn’t normal at all. It was brown and the hair was finer than yesterday.

“Okay,” I said. “I think you should go.”

“I can’t.”

“Your legs work.”

“I’ve been ordered to bring back Mayor Kent’s son. I can’t leave without him. Or you, if that’s you.”

The world was utterly different than it had been before. This man landed on my doorstep at the wrong side of ten in the morning and apparently had no restraint. It may have been the pot calling the kettle black, but clearly he had problems.

I decided to test him. “Where would you take me?”

“The corner store for about an hour or two depending on how bad it goes. Then to a shelter in a park a few blocks outside of city hall.”

City hall was technically downtown last time I checked. That fit with my dad’s message, but it was possible something had changed. They might have been unable to find safety down there.

“Why?” I asked.

“Mayor Kent says you might not be sure about the rules or brave going outside. He said to tell you, and these words exactly, that this is not the world you knew. You need to learn to kill to survive.”

He bothered me. Leon used too many words to explain simple issues. Maybe they were complicated to him, or I’d grown used to the silence after so many months to myself. People were annoying.

“You’re weirdly forthcoming,” I said.

“I have to be,” he said. “Mayor’s orders. No lying to his son, he says. Or anyone who might be related. Keep him, you, safe until he’s, you’re, able to take care of yourself. I have to say that Mayor Kent’s a good man. If we all follow his orders we will survive this new world.” He gulped and fidgeted with wrist braces.

“All right.”

We were still talking in the doorway. It drove me crazy but part of me enjoyed standing. Before the stewardesses and their damn line, standing for this long would have hurt. I still felt pain where the shrapnel from my explosives jar had torn into flesh.

He shifted an ugly helmet to the side and pointed behind me. “Can I come in? It’s going to be unsafe to stand out here, very soon. Those scouts, they saw me. They’ll call in their leaders.”

The man provided more questions than expected. Still, downtown was the next goal, and safety. Mostly I wanted to stay safe and figure out these new spells while exploring the rules of the world. A vaguely familiar face who promised to connect me with my supposed father would help. However, I planned to keep my secrets to myself.

“Come on in.” I stepped out of the way and kept my hand ready to throw a bomb.

Leon stepped inside, clanking all the while. “Do you have anything to eat? Some of the houses are picked over and—”

I gestured to one of the small stockpiles. There were three bags full of food, a set of clothes, and clean water. They were piled near each exit of the house, in case. The word “insurance plan” had been written onto each one with a marker. None of them were legible now. “Food’s in there.”

Leon shuddered nervously. He glanced at me, then to the pile of clothes and shook his head. His helmet clanked with each motion. I fought the urge to explode it and wondered when I’d turned so violent. It had happened somewhere between being ordered to “Kill him” by a beautiful woman and fighting mini-orc creatures.

“It’s not trapped,” I said while walking back to the bathroom. He’d been thrown off by my appearance, and to the best of my knowledge, I hadn’t changed since the last time we saw each other.

Leon might not remember picking me up here before. He’d been a city bus driver but might have been here a lot longer than me. A month or two of this nightmare would be enough to cause memory problems. The main streets had almost looked normal but it was likely that all the little changes made it hard to keep track.

I stopped in the bathroom to figure out what Leon had seen. The mirror showed me completely alien features to my normal ones. Flab had vanished, but not to the point of being extremely muscled. What remained was thin and wiry, stretched tightly across my arms and legs. The changes made me look wild. I stared for a long time at a polished version of myself with longer hair and narrower features.

It would be impossible to consider myself a female with this body. There was a glow on the left pectoral that the other man either didn’t notice or chose not to comment on. Small lines were etched between the five points and managed to be slightly brighter than the regular brown skin.

Post Note: Here’s where life got weird. At some point my spell had turned me into a new creature. I was certainly not female—I had all the man parts—with strangely more emphasis, down below, than before. I was taller with awkwardly stiff hair and finer features. Even my voice was lighter. I had been clueless until someone pointed it out.

The answer to one of my questions was simple. The brown spell transformed me into a strange earthen Adonis. The marking would be obvious to anyone who could see spells like I did, but those mini-orcs showed absolutely no awareness of the explosive traps. I suspected that vision to see my abilities were not universal.

By that logic, I probably wouldn’t be able to see abilities other people used.

“Are you ready?” Leon shouted.

I ignored him and debated how to handle this change. Putting a finger on the dark star marking on my chest caused the tip to glow. Two fingers and three also lit up. It was likely by pressing down all five I could peel off the transformation and return to normal.

However, I had no idea what the cool down was on performing the spell a second time. This could be a single use ability or have some other limitation I was unaware of. Casting spells also made my head go woozy and lose focus. Both sounded like bad ideas with a near-stranger in the house. I opened the book, which had still been strapped to me, and checked the pages. The red and black colors still floated in their respective dimmed mirror-pages.

“We should go now. While there’s still time to get everything done. Traveling gets more dangerous at night.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, studying my higher-pitched voice. The change was obvious now that I’d been clued in. It wasn’t girly sounding either, but almost syrupy, like a sharp honey. It made no sense but somehow the idea of an annoyingly sweet man stuck itself into my head.

“Do you have anything, any, rewards to bring?”

I put my clothes back into place, adjusted the book on its belt, and walked out of the bathroom. Leon stood there, stuffing bits of food under a piece of plate. It was unhygienic.

“Why?” I asked.

“We’re going to a dungeon. Or something, that’s a lot like a dungeon. You know, from games. Did you ever play those types of games? Get a party, venture forth, slay monsters?”

“No.”

Post Note: I’ve said this before, but my choice of games were sports ones. I didn’t know a lot about fantasy games. I’d learn, because apparently people were pulling details from these style of games. It’s a stupid belief that will get them killed. This is not a game.

“Really?”

I stared at him and managed to only blink.

“Wow. Okay. Ummm.” His eyes shifted around in search of an escape. “So, me and two others, all followers of Mayor Kent, have a group. We were ordered to show you some stuff, and try to get you more power, from, monsters.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Have you… have you been hiding here the entire three days?”

He clearly worried about me or didn’t like having to babysit. At least, those were the only reasons I could find for him shuffling around. A big man in plate armor being uneasy is hard to miss. His gear clanked every time his feet shifted.

My mouth opened to lie. The words died in my throat. I tried again and got the same result. That was strange to me. Something was outright preventing me from telling Leon that I hadn’t left the house at all. I’d have to figure out what caused the change later.

“Mostly,” I settled on a vague response that was technically true.

“I’ll explain some as we walk. We have a cart and horse. Donkey, I think. Nearby. To ride to the compound.”

An eyebrow went up. It was weird that we still had donkeys when there’d been no sign of any other domestic animal. I suspected those mini-orc creatures had killed everything that couldn’t breed fast enough.

Leon whispered most of the way down the street and around a corner. He kept an eye out but acted unconcerned about the smaller enemies. The mini-orc creatures prowled the bushes and I stayed ready to throw an explosive at them. I’d attached it to a small saucer dish.

What he explained, as we walked, made sense provided I didn’t try to apply real logic to the statements. I took note of the following:

Downtown was infested with monsters, and a big boss creature. Leon and Mayor Kent (whom he believed to be my father) stated killing this monster should reward some superpower. Monsters constantly spawned from set locations. This made no sense but explained how the world hadn’t run out of mini-orcs despite them being so squishy. Defeated monsters turned into yellow energy orbs. They also gave money which displayed on the cards. This made no sense either. A few vending machines had been spotted, but their positions changed when no one was looking. They probably ate people who shook them. None of those items filled me with any comfort.

We arrived at the corner store, where I’d been left off the bus three days before. My hangover from last night’s drinking persisted.

Two women waited for us. One wore a Goth tee-shirt with holes in it. Underneath that was chain mail. Her hair was unevenly cut and she clearly loved the giant sword in her hands. She polished it with a whet that cast sparks.

The other woman was much heavier up top and yawned frequently. At least three bathrobes hung loosely only bound by a sash around the waist. She rubbed one eye and had four cans of soda next to her.

Leon stomped across the parking lot to a donkey tethered near a cart. A pair of feet stuck out of the cart’s rear. Snoring came from inside.

“Hi, Callisto. He was there,” Leon said. “He, well, this is him. Or it’ll match what the Mayor told us to do.”

“Great. If it’s good enough for the boy scout, it’s good enough for me,” the Goth-shirted woman said.

She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who.