Chapter 5

The body of Wilkinson fell to the ground with finality. The onlookers that seen the incident watched in absolute horror as the thing that killed him eyed them in silence. The first person to break the spell they were all under screamed with the pitch that could shatter glass. It was none other than… mill wright Trumann. He shook everyone that was there with his scream, making the people panic. Zayne, being the predator that he was, could smell the fear in the air and went into action, starting with the nearest person who he could get to. The said person was old Katye, the towns baker. She stood where she was, watching the blood-soaked killer run straight toward her.

Patrick shouted out for Katye as he ran to her and the killer, trying to get in between the two of them but he wasn’t fast enough, the crowed was moving in the opposite direction from her and he was fighting a losing battle to get there. Patrick got halfway before Zayne struck again. The bloody man grabbed the little old lady by the neck with one hand and with the other he placed on her shoulder, squeezing tight. He started to pull away with the head, killing the old baker by tearing her skull and spine free from her body. I have to move faster was all that Patrick could think when he seen the atrocity that occurred right in front of him. The crying babe was currently free falling from the punt Zayne made coming straight on top of the running people.

“Face me! You son of a bitch!” Patrick yelled, gaining the attention of the fear inducing man. His heart pounded as he readied himself for the fight of his life, but the killer lost interest in Patrick and went for the fleeing town's people. Patrick tried to stop the man, but he wasn’t fast enough. The killer tore through the people as he went ripping through the crowd. The crying of the babe slowly left the town as the bloody man went through them. The towns folk was entering the nearest houses or running into the woods trying to get away. Everyone that went to the forest was hunted down and killed. The night turned into a man hunt for the killer chasing down everyone that entered the woods, leaving the people that run into homes safe for the time being.

Patrick wasn’t able to keep up and lost sight of the threat before he could even leave town, making him have to decide on what he should do next. Patrick’s family was in town and he could try to rally the survivors to make a last stand, with the forming plan he had Patrick went into the town hall, creeping as he went. He could hear screams in the distance but could do nothing about it. Coming to the door of the town hall building he slowly opened it, revealing his son Henry poised to strike. His son was a little slow with the attack and Patrick dodged it by inches.

“Damn boy, you almost got me there. Thank the heavens that you weren’t faster.” Patrick said, pushing past Henry and making his way toward the center of the room. He found about 20 people there with his wife and two sons, about half of the remaining town was gathered in the building.

“Now I need everyone to listen up and get closer, so I don’t have to yell, and for the people that can’t hear me just ask the person next to or in front of you.” The whisper wasn’t that quiet but was needed to start getting the group to form up so they could talk. The feet shuffling on the hard wood was anything other than quiet, but Patrick endured. When everyone was done moving and settled down Patrick began to do a head count of the people gathered, finding that it was the old folk that went to the buildings, leaving the younger to try fleeing through the woods.

“Does anyone know or have seen this man before?” some of the group was asking this question finding that this was someone that was new, no one here recognized the person in question but felt a deep connection with the killer. That was due to the tutorial, making the town more friendly with the person taking the test. This was amped up by Sixal changing the property of the villager’s mind, and with the system part of the tutorial now acting out to try and correct the setting of the test, the components of the town have made a drastic change to their emotion. This caused them to feel more from the tutorial taker. But none of the villagers could ever know this, so they settled that it was fear and hatred that was building up inside of them.

Henry was in the middle of being a look out along with some of the other men in the group, Tom and Tucker wear brothers that ran the clothing store. They knew nothing of fighting or weapons but made up for it in determination. The old baker Katye was their mother they brought along on the excursion to form this town, losing her was a tremendous blow to them and they sought out to rectify it by keeping vigilant. They would never get there mother back but could keep it from happening to the others in the group.

“What I’m saying is that it’s better to make it a fight then a slaughter, staying here waiting for the killer to come back is no different than going out there and laying down to die! We need everyone to fight, there are more of us then there is of him.” Patrick was getting exhausted from the constant back and forth with the people crowed together. Brock, the tanner was making it into a hunting stan. He wasn’t open to the idea of open fight and would rather stay hold up wait to trap the killer.

“It’s like hunting a boar, you wait for it to charge then pull the spear out so it impales itself. It’s not that hard of a concept.” Brock said in the red-haired accent. He was always quick to anger and never was one to listen to advice.

Patrick was ready to start the whole debate over again, but his wife Jenifer took over with the frustrating man. “Yes Brock, we know what you want to do but that’s if he takes the bait. There are other people here that wouldn’t have the will to stay still for that but could still shoot a bow or put traps out to try and slow him down. Staying here is suicide for us!” She finished with a sigh knowing that it wasn’t enough to sway the crazy bastard into helping with her husband Patrick’s idea. Before Brock could start the argument again Patrick cut in going over his plan, leaving out the hunter. “If we set traps though the town and set up archers then we could slow down the fucker long enough to be able to take him out. This way no one is in harm’s way of getting killed by him, keeping at the points that I’ve drawn on the map we can take him out cleanly.”

Jenifer had seen the map that he had drew up and couldn’t believe that he could be that gifted for the mapping that he did, he said that it was from the skill he got but that was hard to swallow. Her husband was changing from the caring kind man that he was to something that she couldn’t recognize. The sight was startling for Jenifer, but she kept it to herself. The other thing she was concerned about was the marker that indicated Patrick on the map, putting him up against the killer by himself.

As they planned for the coming day, if they made it through the night, they went over the various traps Brock knew. Making corrections for the size and weight, making sure the traps were as lethal as the group could make them. Being in a small hamlet like this everyone was required to hunt and set traps, but none was better than Brock. He became the town hunter and tanner, helping anyone that came to him with their prize. They set up makers over the town map, taking in where the best location was and what trap was best to use there. As the remaining town went through the plan, the rising sun started to peak over the horizon.

Patrick didn’t know if the killer was out there still but decided that it was better to find out now then later. That and the bloody man hadn’t made an appearance in town during the day. He settled on making a run around town as the sun slowly rose to the sky. He had several blinking lights in the corner of his sight and had been itching to get them out of his view. With the thought of them they started to open up on after another, causing Patrick to stumble and fall to the packed dirt in town.

Patrick

Class: n/a

Level: 0

Hp 100 Stam 100 Mp 100,

-Hp regen 10 per hour

-Stam regen 10 per minute

-Mp regen 10 per hour

Vit 10 End 10 Str 10

Agi 5 Percep 10 React 10

Will 5 Intell 10 Wisdom 10

Skills-Tracking lv.1, Pole arm proficiency apprentice lv. 3 mapping lv. 2,

Abilities-n/a

There was more, but the new parchment that covered his stats was something Patrick was unaccustomed to. Not knowing what any of it meant, he pushed it away, focusing on the bigger problem. He was laying there for a little while and didn’t hear a sound, making him believe that the man in the bloody rags was gone and that it was safe for the moment for everyone to come out and start laying out the traps.

Jogging back, he spotted the bodies of several people scattered across the town, bathing the streets in blood. Some were friends and others close enough to be family. He spent what felt like a lifetime getting to know and love these people. Others he saw he didn’t know very well, and that hurt just as much as losing the ones that were close to him, promising himself that he would make the time and effort to get to know the remaining town’s people. As he got near, he spotted Wilkinson's corpse. His head was caved in, but the leather coat he wore was gone. Making him stop to inspect the missing clothing of the nearby corpses, Patrick found that there was over one missing piece of clothing. This was making him waste time on pointless things when he could be gathering the group to start placing traps.

Patrick entered the town hall and found the group had gotten ready for an attack. He quickly stopped them and answered the lingering questions many had. “No, I don’t know for sure who is still alive, but I promise you that if we don’t start soon, there will be more than just the missing people left for dead.” He waited for the rest to stop speaking and grouped up the towns people to cover certain areas for traps. Brock and the more senior members went together to do some of the closer traps as soon as the elders had gotten the hang of it, Brock was to go around and double check everyone else’s. This would ensure that none of the traps were faulty.

“Why the feck am I the only one not laying down traps? I’m the fastest one here and could cover more ground!” this started the same argument over again, but Patrick was busy trying to coordinate with the remaining teams.

Turning to look the noisy bastard in the eye, Patrick said, “If you have time to argue, then you have time to check traps. After everyone is settled, you have your assignment.” With that, Patrick turned away and continued his task.

Brock looked pissed and was about to start a fight right there, but old Ms. Bloogles caught his arm and patted it, shaking her head as she did. The fight left him, but the anger remained. Turning around to start and show them how to lie down the pit fall he went over how he could be the town hero and not that cock tugger. He came up with the only plausible plan he could, he would be the one to confront the killer.

Later in the day the sun was starting to set, and the town was filled with traps. They even got Brock to shape and sting up some bows and fletch arrows for the members that couldn’t find one. They had done everything that they could to have the last confrontation with the man in bloody rags. All they had to was wait and see where and when he would strike. Patrick stood in the center of town as the last rays shone over the valley, making him look a little more heroic than what he liked. He held the pitchfork now straighten making it look more of a trident than a farm tool. Leather was patched together to make a semblance of armor but fell short to look more like a patched blanket than anything else. His wife and two kids were nearby finishing off the rest of the makeshift weapons they had going. As the last of the arrows got fletched, Jenifer made a b-line to Patrick to bring him into a hard hug.

“Promise me that whatever happens tonight that you will come back to me,” Jenifer whispered to him as they stood there in, their embrace. Tears were falling down her cheek as the words left her, making the night to come much more real for Patrick.

He pulled her into a tighter hug as he spoke out loud “There’s nothing that could ever stop me from seeing you again. I love you and promise that we will see each other again.” He too was starting to cry but didn’t want her or the others near to see them, so he whipped them away while he still held her. Patrick broke the embrace off first and gently pushed her away. “There is little time remaining. Do you still remember where you're supposed to be tonight. I think Henry wanted to stay here but you're gonna have to take him with you when you leave.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll go talk to him now. Jacob is in the town hall under the floorboards. I made him swear that whatever happens tonight, that he won't come out till morning. If… if were not around, he was to make the trip due south for duke Harold’s territory. Once he made the journey, Jacob could make his case and warn the people there, taking a job as a farm hand. I said my goodbyes. I told him you would but… I’m sure he will understand, one day.” Fresh tears welled up in Jenifer’s eyes as she told Patrick about the plan they made with Jacob.

“It won't come to that, that’s why we're here doing this! I never wanted you and our sons to go through anything like this. Just… get to your spot and stay safe.” He couldn’t keep up with their conversation any longer. It was killing him too much to even stare at her anymore. He knew he would not make it tonight but planned to make sure that the rest of the town members would and that included his wife and kids.

“I love you, Patrick Woodsin.” Those were the last words he heard before Jenifer left, taking Henry by the arm and dragging him off with her. With the night starting and the day over, Patrick stood stoically as he cried himself into submission, readying for the coming death he knew would come.

The first of the far traps were hooked up to old sleigh bells off to the north. They were designed to make as much noise as they could, alerting everyone that the killer was coming. This trap was made to tangle the legs, slow down and show where he was, but it wasn’t supposed to before too long. No less than a minute the bells went silent, and the night took back in its eerie silents as everyone waited for the next trap to go off. The next trap was one of Brock’s favorites. It was a pit fall with sharpened sticks sticking out at the bottom. This too had a few bells as every trap did. It went off and a soft fall could be heard through town.

James and Chris should be able to spot the fucker by now Patrick thought as the night went by with bells and traps. Things were running smoothly as the plan they had formed came into action, the first of the spotters sounded out with bull horns the group had collected before noon. The sound of the twains from bows could be heard where Patrick stood, as he waited for the man in bloody rags to show. The first singe of trouble came with from the east side of town where the tailors kept watch. There was blood curdling cry, it ranged out across town stopping everyone’s heart.

Patrick planned for something like this to happen and moved into action as he made for the east side where the archers were posted. Jogging through town he maintained a pace to not tire himself out, his job was to play keeper and lead the killer through as many traps that he could manage. Getting about halfway he spotted the home of James, where two bodies laid on top of the thatch roof. This was the ideal spot for them to keep watch incase the bloody man made an appearance on this side of town. The home was on the edge of the hamlet overlooking the field, but there wasn’t any trace of the killer’s whereabouts. Patrick was starting to get nervous, there should be a blood trail somewhere. His skill picked up on his need to find any tracks, showing a barely visible trail leading through the back side of the town. His wife was on this side of village. Not waiting to see if the trail was the only one there is, Patrick grabbed his horn and sounded a warning to the others. He blew two short notes into the horn signaling that the killer was in the town and out of the clearing.

Other horns sounded off to mark the number of survivors, there was less than half now. How the fuck is he doing this! Patrick thought as he was now running through the village. He still had his straiten pitchfork in hand and picked up a cover to a barrel on the way, he came to the town center and found the trail had gone cold. His tracking wasn’t picking anything else up, the beating of his heart was on full display as sweat was starting to pour out of Patrick. He dashed to the building where Jenifer and Henry were station at, taking the rope in his hands he made for the top of the town hall. This is stupid I need to be down there he thought as he made the last of the climb peaking at the top, he found his wife and kid there watching him wide eyed.

“What are you doing, Tom sent a shot up over to the north signaling he had eyes on the bloody man.” Jenifer hissed at him. “Go! Were fine, the town needs you!” She sent a boot to his chest; it wasn’t hard but was enough to get the message through to him that he needed to go.

“Fine, I was just worried” he whispered back as he made his way back down the rope. Patrick feet hit the ground and he started running north. The closer he got the more he could hear screams coming from the north end of the village, there was arrows flying that he could see. The arrows were lit on fire, making them visible. This was only if the person shooting them was in trouble. He threw down the lid he picked up as he rounded a corner. There he found Brock engaging the killer by himself. The bloody man was no longer in the rags that he wore the last time Patrick had seen him, no, he had the leather jacket that Wilkinson had worn. Leather pants dyed blue and black boots now adorn the vicious man, making him look as if he was one of the towns people.

“Get out of here Patrick! I’ve got this all by myself.” Brock was bruised and bloody, his left arm was hanging limp down at his side. The only thing he held was his hunting knife. Taking a stance he made one last lunge at the killer. The blade sank deep into the side of the killer. The man didn’t even flinch away from the attack. He took ahold of Brock’s one good remaining arm and snapped it over his left knee making Brock cry out. Patrick moved before he could think, sinking the pitchfork into the back of the man. The times only went in about an inch. Cursing to himself, Patrick tried to pull it back, but the killer wouldn’t let that happen.

“Run you fool!” Patrick barked out to Brock, but he didn’t listen to Patrick as he moved to shoulder tackle the fright that stood right in front of them. He knocked over the two of them, freeing the pitchfork for Patrick, and getting his head caved in by his heroic act.

“Damn you, you blood bastard!” he screamed and took off through the planned-out route he and the town had made. Patrick, with his weapon still in hand, ran through the various traps and blocks, hoping for the remaining town people to fire arrows at the chasing nightmare that followed him. There were fewer people than he had hoped to have, but damn it if he didn’t try. Most of the traps barely had an impact on the thing hunting him, making this a faster pace than what he had planned. He got to the set up for the final encounter when the killer threw out his chain, ensnaring Patrick around the legs. He fell hard to the ground, making a loud smack for the group to hear. He must have broken a few ribs in the process because he couldn’t breathe very well. He scurried up to a sitting position just before the killer throughout a punch, catching Patrick in the jaw, throwing him across the dirt for a few paces. There was a loud scream as something fell right beside Patrick, focusing on what it was. The screaming got louder when water splashed across his face.

“You fucker! I’ll kill you I swear!” the voice was his wife, he started to focus of the thing next to him clearing his vision just enough to make out his son Henry. His boy’s laid next to him with his throat torn out of his neck. A notification came to him popping in front of his face.

Achievement: you have learned the new skill- All fathers rage. This can only happen when you lose a child in front of you, all attributes are tripled (3x) for the duration of you Mp, time remaining 5 min. Skill can only start once your free of any bindings.

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“Damn man, that lady is really pissed off at you, isn’t she. You know there is a lesson here to be learned, but I just can’t see it. Either way, let’s kill this bitch here, then move on to the others!” Foulness said with glee. He’s been having one hell of a night with all the actions that Zayne has been doing to the people of this town.

Jiminy, the voice of reason, spoke up ruining the good vibes that Foulness has been riding on, making him shudder from what goodie goodie shit he was going to say. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS! You have been making a mess of this whole thing since the beginning, now I’ve stood by and waited for you to have your fun and lash out to the things that made you this way but taking it to this level is going way to far!” Jiminy has been trying to stop Zayne this whole night, trying to get him to make things right with the town but Zayne has been ignoring Jiminy the entire time. God, does this make me feel all tingly, Foulness thought.

“Sure, and once he says sorry to all the friendly folk that’s been shooting things at him, he can go ahead and clear out that quest that’s been handing over our heads this whole time.” This wasn’t the first time Foulness had said this. And just like every time he stated this, Jiminy would fall silent. The thought of the skill made Foulness think back to the quest they had gotten and groaned internally. All that the quest had gotten Zayne was the perk- sexual awareness that made him aware of who was having sex. The skill too was useless, showing him the way to the people that was having sex. God, was that a waste of time.

People showed up surrounding Zayne, all had sharp poky sticks in their hands as they made jabbing motions with them. There were seven of them, including the man that was still bound by Zayne’s chains. Zayne had taken quite a few of them out from the last night and this one, jumping his skills all up to fifteen where they stopped moving up at incredible amounts. His sheet looked something like this.

Zayne

Class: 90s Slasher

Level: 0

Hp 270 Stam 250 Mp 4,

-Hp regen 27 per hour

-Stam regen 25 per minute

-Mp regen 2 per hour

Vit 27 End 25 Str 25

Agi 26 Percep 10 React 32

Will 18 Intell 4 Wisdom 3

Skills-Tracking lv.15, Stealth lv.15, Machete apprentice lv.7, pain tolerance lv.16, Chain proficiency apprentice lv. 16, Kung Pow Killer lv 17

Abilities: Supernatural healing lv.10 the ability to heal 100% faster, Silence. Your stealth skill is 25% better.

Body strength lv 15

Body end lv 15

Body vit lv 15

Body agi lv 15

Body react lv 15

Body intell lv 1

Body wisdom lv 1

Body will lv 1

The crowd that had formed around Zayne got aggressive, taking shots at him around his body. The new coat that he had picked up was going to get ruined by all the attacks that were going on. He lashed out with his one chain clipping a good number of people in the wild swing Zayne had made. The people hit by him fell to the ground stun from the blow of the heavy chain, making soft moaning from the hit. The people didn’t have time to get back to their feet before he was on them. Zayne threw out kicks and punches that he had learned from his skill Kung Pow Killer, making every blow lethal. The number of the folk within the town quickly went down to two. The woman that had screamed was till standing, she was smart enough to step back from the blow.

She started to speak in small whispers that Zayne couldn’t make out but that hardly mattered. He pulled back his chain from the now crying man and moved methodically to the frighten lady. Bringing his hands up he closed them around her neck.

“Ooh, are you going to finally strangle someone now? I’ve been waiting for this for a while you bastard!” Foulness said happily. The woman was looking into Zayne’s eyes without a hint of fear in them and said something that brought a grin to her face. The hands on her throat closed too fast for her to stop and the sound of broken bone sounded throughout the village. “Well so much for a slow strangle. That was anticlimactic, so you going to finish off the guy that’s starting to rise to his feet?”

Zayne whirled around to meet the rising man, …that had glowing yellow eyes shining in the moonlight night. The fire from the flaming arrows had half the town ablaze that remined Zayne of the first time he killed the village. The man sounded out with whining noises and spoke just above a whisper. The town was mostly dead except for him, and the indestructible baby Zayne had left somewhere in the woods. The glowing eyed man moved to Zayne faster then he did before, the only thing that saved Zayne was his reaction that was barely faster than Patrick’s.

The man held his spear trident thing, jabbing and parrying any attacks that Zayne threw at him. The strength he had with each thrust and jab was more than enough for Zayne to handle, knocking him across the town as the fight continued. The glowing eyed man was screaming now with every blow he threw, the beating got worst. The pain tolerance Zayne had was leveling up tremendously making the powerful blows less painful. At the ark of his fall after a hit sent him up skyward, Patrick caught Zayne around the neck and started to squeeze ever so slowly.

“See, that’s the type of strangle that I have been waiting for you to do, too bad it happening to the wrong person.” Foulness put in as the air was slowly leaving him. Zayne tried everything that he could to break free of the hold but couldn’t budge the hold he had on him, all he managed to do was leave a few bruises and a broken nose. Growing desperate Zayne lashed out using every skill he had to make the scary man let go of him. With a broken nose, Patrick readied his pitchfork to deliver the killing blow to this monster.

Something cliqued in Zayne’s mind, making his body feel all tingly. Mist started to encompass him while the world around him got reformed to fog and shadows. “I think this is that skill mist step!” Jiminy spoke in his mind.

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Patrick had the bleeding fucker by the throat, slowly pushing his pitchfork into the stomach of the killer. The blood that was flowing through his nose was nothing to the lost he felt when his son and wife died in front of him. With one final exertion, he thrust the tines into the mad bastard but his grip on the killer disappeared like the rest of his body. Fog was rolling in all around him as he looked about the town madly trying to find him. There was a sharp pain that came from his back, making him stumble. Patrick whirled around to find nothing but vapors, again pain blossomed in him. The blow took off his knee bring Patrick down to the ground, his heart pounding he used his tracking skill but there was no track to be founded.

“Where are you!” he yelled out to the void that he occupied, only the sound of burning buildings met him. A form came to in front of Patrick with the noise of something whipping in the air. The chain circled around his neck blocking off any air his gasp was trying to intake. Blood shot eyes looked up into the face of the killer, his hair hiding any features that it had. Patrick was making a last effort to kill the thing before him, but he didn’t have the chance. A heavy blow took his head off. The last thing he heard was the voice of some kind telling him that the tutorial has been reset.