Roy poked the pile of dead orchid caps; he had finished off the remainders after recovering his MP. Their tissue was limp and spongy, as expected of giant mushrooms. Roy gazed at the pile blocking the front entrance and then at his pitchfork, with some hesitation he began to fork the mass of plant matter. He was reminded of mushroom medley as his fork skewered another couple of orchid caps and brought them down from the pile.

It took another hour for Roy to slowly disperse the congestion that had formed around the door. The mushrooms were fairly light, but when several were impaled at the end of the pitchfork Roy struggled to lift and maneuver the bunch. He solved this by shifting one hand forwards along the handle, it was like using a lever with his hands as the pivot.

Several small piles of orchid caps were piled around the entrance to the library. They were like gruesome trophies of war assembled around a camp of barbarians. The pale stems intermingled together in the piles and when Roy stared at them fleetingly, illusions of human corpses burst into form.

Concentrating on his task, Roy shifted the last few orchid caps out of the way and then rested his pitchfork against this shoulder; this was probably the most exercise he had done in a while. As he leaned against the wall to catch his breath several blue screens appeared.

Skill Up!

Pole Weapon Mastery LV 1 > LV 3 (Novice)

Trait Gained!

Anemic Creeping Beryl Blooms - I

Pole Weapon Mastery was not two levels higher but the description remained unchanged. There were no numbers so he couldn't gauge his growth, but just by holding his arms apart on the handle he found hecould lever significantly greater weights. The slight adjust would allow to to put greater power into his attacks his he couldn't swing his weapon. This could be thought of as proficiency, and the weapon clearly indicated that it made him more proficient. If that was the case the skill might have some use after all despite its rather bland description.

The more interesting gain was the trait, traits modify the body directly. Roy looked around his body for any notable changes. There were no obvious additions, but when he scrutinized his arms closely he found that snowflake like patterns of white now adorned his left hand. They grew fainter as they spread up his arm, until they terminated near his elbow.

Roy scratched at the almost tattoo like additions, the skin shifted as he pushed and smudged the tattoos. However, the tattoos didn’t follow the movement of the skin; they stayed in place like the veins that could be made out under the skin. Witnessing this phenomenon, Roy happened upon a solution.

The patterns weren’t on his skin; they grew under his skin, into his flesh and around his veins where they intersected. They were blooms, like algae blooms or fungal blooms. Roy looked at his pitchfork and connected the dots. The pitchfork and the Spore effect, he was always grasping the pitchfork which probably gave it time to implant the spores into his flesh.

Now that they were rooted in they would spread and grow. This was a fungal infection, like the stuff his teacher would show them during health class. Was he going to have to deal with painful red rashes, or perhaps his nails would start falling apart. He needed to check the trait.

Anemic Creeping Beryl Blooms - I

The Creeping Beryl is a rare species of fungus that often create vast interconnected colonies. They are known for the absurd pace at which they spread and their affinity with the cold, despite living in warm marshlands.

Small blooms of Creeping Beryl have begun to spread inside the body. The pace of their growth is determined by the body's CON and the abundance of nutrients. As they expand they will further integrate with the host and new effects will occur.

Slowly netralize poisons. Speed based on maturity of blooms.

Wounds in infected areas close faster. Speed based on maturity of blooms.

-1 to CON

+0.005/s HP Regeneration

+2 to Poison Resitance

-1 to Heat Resistance

It wasn’t as bad as he had imagined it. He would recover faster and be more resistant to poisons. On the other hand he would lose a point of CON and be more vulnerable to fire. The lost point in CON lowered his health by 8 points and his HP regeneration by 0.001 points. This was offset by the 0.005 points of HP regeneration the trait gave him.

The only concerning effect was the last line; the blooms would grow and spread. If that happened would he lose more CON? If he lost CON he would need to add more points to it so that he wouldn’t become progressively weaker. With a higher CON the blooms would grow faster, which meant he would need to add even more points to CON. It was a vicious cycle.

The trait did have a level, if so it must have some maximum level. He would just need to get it to that level, once there the cycle would stop, and perhaps the benefits of the trait would be greater. If games were anything to go by, the higher the level the better.

Roy stuck the three stat points he had gained earlier into CON. His HP was now 17 points higher than before he had been infected. Obviously he was outpacing the parasite, Roy convinced himself as he grabbed his pitchfork and walked into the library.

With the monsters dead everything was quiet again, now that he thought about it, it was possible that the orchid caps were the cause behind the lack of people in the library. If that was the case where were the bodies, had they been completely eaten by the mushrooms, bones and all?

It had only been three nights since the start, or rather it had been three nights. Three nights was more than long enough for the guests to go elsewhere, there was little food in the Library. Three nights was also too short a span of time any remains to completely disappear, not that Roy wanted to see human remains.

Again Roy paced along the aisles looking for a clue as to where a book on purifying water would be located. There were dozens of shelves, each with thousands of books, if he decided to look through everything it would take days. Roy paced around the library for another hour as he regretted his lack of dedication to reading before this point.

Roy kicked a stray shelf in frustration and then wandered off. He had a fungal infection already, and poison resistance to boot, so what if he drank a bit of muddy water. Now resolved to no longer resolve to search the shelves Roy looked for something else to occupy his time. Last time, when he left the old couples house, he had been unprepared. He forgot to pack batteries for his flashlight, eating utensils, a can opener, and who knows what else.

Now that he had cleared the library of monsters, it was as good of a place as any to scavenge for supplies. He could probably find some batteries lying around. The left section of the library facing Scott Street was occupied by the shelves of books, interspersed with small clusters of tables and chairs. The right section was made up of several activity rooms, storage spaces, and offices.

Finding his way around the front service desk, Roy located the door to the librarian’s office. He felt a strange sense of anticipation; he was going to go behind the scenes, into places where regular guests weren’t permitted. Roy tried the door knob, but as expected, the door was locked. Frankly, the idea of looking around a dark library for keys that might not be there was unappealing.

The wooden door seemed flimsy enough, and the repercussions of his actions would be null in these circumstances. Breaching the door would alert any monsters in the room, which meant he wouldn’t be surprised by any hidden dangers.

Imitating the cops on TV, Roy took a step away from the door and aimed at the point on the door right beside the door knob. Roy pulled his right foot out from the water and rammed the door with the sole of his shoe, almost like he was taking a step onto the wall. The door creaked under the strain but the lock held. Roy’s foot rebounded from the impact and he tumbled backwards onto the front desk, sending pamphlets and stationary sprawling across the surface of the table.

Roy pulled himself up and readied his pose again. There was no reaction from inside the room so Roy could be fairly certain that there was nothing lurking inside. Roy put as much force as he could into his kick as he directed it towards the side of the door knob. His foot struck the surface and the door gave way as the lock broke through the door frame.

Skill Up!

Demolitionist LV 0 > LV 1 (Novice)

Now that he thought about it he had destroyed quite a few windows up tp this point, Roy dismissed the window and looked into the room. The first thing that caught his attention was the broken window at the other end of the room. The jagged edges of the broken glass framed the field he had passed earlier, the one packed with sleeping Hastaoses. Evidently the previous occupant had locked themselves in and then escaped through the window.

Even without the broken glass that littered the room it was still a mess. Loose pages and binders occupied every shelf in sight, which cluttered the edges of the room. At the center several tables stood, their surfaces cluttered by pages and the occasional cup of coffee. A scene from what Roy presumed to be a normal day at the office – he had never held a job before. Roy could imagine a small group of librarians working the morning shift, cataloguing and doing whatever it was that librarians did, then bam, monsters.

Roy made his way around the office, pushing in the chairs as he went along, notably one chair seemed to be missing; it had probably been used to smash the window. Roy was looking for anything that used double A batteries; he could take them for his flashlight.

The most obvious object was the clock hanging on the wall, a big, round, black and white thing that could be found in most government buildings, including his school. Roy maneuvered a chair under it and removed the clock from where it hung. He pried open the bit of plastic covering the batteries, revealing two double As.

Next Roy circled the room and inspected the shelves and cupboards. Most were packed with documents but in one corner he found a small portable radio. As he picked it up and turned the device around in his hands it occurred to him there could still be radio broadcasts occurring. The internet required servers and service providers, it was too complex a system to continue running with the electricity grid gone. But a radio station could continue off backup generators to run emergency broadcasts.

Roy motioned to turn on the device before hesitating, his eyes drifted towards the open window. The hastaoses hadn’t awoken during his fight with the orchid caps, nor did they awake after he had broken down the door. It didn’t seem like they were sensitive to sound. Just in case, Roy decided it would be better to head back into the main hall, where two walls separated him from the monsters and there was no open window.

Roy finished up looking through the room; his search yielded another pair of double As. They had probably been left lying around for the sake of convenience. Satisfied with his reserves Roy exited the office, closed the broken door as best as he could, and made his way to the western end of the library, which faced Scott Street.

Several tables were placed around the window for the ease of any guests. Roy pulled out a chair and took a seat, his pants were wet and the sensation was fairly unpleasant. Pushing creature comforts aside, Roy turned on the radio and made sure the volume was on and the antenna was extended.

The device was quite utilitarian; the majority of the drab grey surface was taken up by a sizable speaker. Above it a small horizontal slit indicated the frequency he was on, which could be adjusted by a knob located beside it. At present there was only static.

If only he could pick up something, Roy thought as he slowly turned the dial. Any news, any indication of how things were, it would be like a ray of light in this foggy murk. As Roy anticipated the transmission he knew would be there, his mind wandered. It was bad in Anamosa based off what he had seen, but it wouldn’t be like that everywhere. Did the government still operate at some scale, what about the National Guard or the army?

Then he found it, data transmitted over the air and finally received by the antenna on his radio. Roy turned up the volume to better make out the voice; it was playing on repeat so there was no rush. Roy delicately adjusted the knob until the words could be made out without any strain.

“...continue to take shelter if necessities are available,” then the mechanical voice paused, cycling through the array of messages that had been pieced together.

Then a loud beep sounded from the radio and the transmission continued, “The following message is transmitted at the request of the United States Government. Numerous hostile entities have appeared across the country. Residents of the United States are strongly advised to take shelter and avoid confrontation with any unknown entities.

“Residents should take the following precautions...” the message then provided a list of safety measures which included sealing doors, closing lights, and tuning into further radio broadcasts. Then the message paused yet again before continuing.

“President Stanley Smith is currently, as of April 12th, unable to discharge the powers and duties of the office. To ensure continuity of government Secretary of the Interior Peyton Wright is now the Acting President of the United States.”

Another brief pause, “The previous message recommending that residents of Iowa should head towards Camp Dodge should be ignored. Residents are strongly advised not to approach Camp Dodge. Residents within range of this broadcast should head to the temporary shelter established at Rock Island Arsenal in Davenport if it can be done in a safe manner. Otherwise residents should...” Pulling out the notebook he had kept in his backpack, Roy jotted down the name of the location the transmission had given. He would need to look for a map later.

The rest of message began to loop. It was April the 14th currently, three nights after the system first appeared.