“What makes you think I’d accept a cripple?”

“You stayed?”

“To taunt you… Cripple.”

***

What's supporting me?

Despite there being a million questions demanding an answer, only one pervaded Alexander's mind as he tried to stare at the substance beneath him. Like glass it was seethrough, but it didn't stop there. His eyes couldn't find anything to latch onto no matter how much he strained them. He was certain that there was something beneath him else he'd be falling, but his sight vehemently disagreed to that notion.

He glanced at the people around him as he wondered what others thought, but it seemed they were focused on different things. Due to him sitting in a wheelchair he coudn't see beyond the heads and shoulder of those around him, but they were standing tightly and there was a murmur which suggested that this was a large crowd.

He didn’t feel like himself. In his head a light daze clouded his thoughts and pushed down any agitation and unrest. Not known to him, the other people in the room experienced the same thing. A spell had been cast to produce this effect. It was usually used to transport sentient lifeforms as easily as possible, keeping them compliant and calm. Alexander didn’t fight whatever happened, but he didn’t accept it either. He was experiencing it.

Inside of his head, a thick cloud blocked his thoughts and emotions and sensation, giving him an dream-like feeling, one that told him it wasn't really him here. Not known to him, the rest of the room was under the same spell. Its original purpose was for transporting sentient lifeforms, mainly used in slave auction, which was techincally where they'd just left. Alexander didn't fight, but neither did he accept it. He found himself incapable of decisions, simply being stuck to the experience.

He’d started experiencing it a few minutes ago. The teleportation had been instant, not giving him a chance to do anything about it. That didn’t mean he was completely surprised by it. He’d sensed it, a faint sense of doom hovering in his gut. As if watching a train approach whilst standing on the rails.

It was around nine and he had been in an English lecture. He sat at the very back of the room in case he wanted to sleep without the teacher noticing, and flipped a pen between his fingers as quickly as he could manage. It moved at such high speeds that it blurred, almost flowing through his fingers. It was the only thing holding off the tiredness from playing too much last night.

When the teleportation commenced, a lot of things were left behind. The phone in his pocket and the pen in his hands didn’t come along. Neither did the filth and sweat on his body and perhaps even within. But some things tagged along. His wheelchair and clothes were still with him. It was as if somebody had chosen what was necessary and what wasn’t.

“Silence,” a voice full of authority simply muttered.

The speaker, stretching up to four metres tall even with a bent back, sood at the very front of the room. Alexander had been teleported with his posture pointing their way. The speaker carried a face with many blue, arcane tattoos and almost as much boredom. He had done this a million times before, and there wasn’t anything fresh about it now.

“Souls have become so expensive. No, human souls have become more expensive. That’s without a doubt due to the demand increasing. Can you believe it cost me a mythic item for the bunch of you? Yeah, this was a group deal. I couldn’t even get my personal choice. I suspect they threw some bad apples in here.”

“I really should have bought earth when the dinosaurs still enveloped it. It was cheap then, but how was I supposed to know monkeys were going to grow into you strange creatures? And who thought you’d be so good at killing?”

“It makes sense that you’re so good though. Other species are very similar to one another in personality and shape, yet here none of that’s true. You’re all different, some of you pathetic, others great. You’re capable of moulding yourselves, a rare trait in the universe. Your creativity and struggle allows you to do things others simply can't. All of you could be my victors. Each one of you has the potential.“

“I make it a principle of mine to go out of my way to meet all of you. In the past, it was to motivate you, hold a speech, tell you about the wealth and power and freedom you can gain and yada yada yada, but nowadays it’s just because I want to bless you all with the sound of my voice.”

“It’s simple what you all are. Slaves. Slaves for me that will all run into the tower and fight for me. If one of you were to win I’d gain a large sum of the wealth you will inherit, nearly 90%, and that’s because I own your souls. Now, that doesn’t mean you won’t get rewarded for your work.”

Suddenly, a voice screamed out from the crowd. Despite the spell which had been cast to numb the people in the room, one person’s anger had slowly grown to such a large size that it cracked the spell.

“Fuck you damn bastard! Do you know who my father is? He’ll do….”

The young man never got the chance to finish his sentence. The air which had been holding him up, simply stopped. He fell down and the others could hear his screams grow fainter until they couldn’t be heard at all. A few seconds later he rematerialised on his spot, now with a deathly pale expression.

“That resurrection, young man, cost me,” the speaker’s voice suddenly turned serious. “And if you don’t earn my money back I’ll slaughter your entire family… I’m just joking! Cheer up. Anyone else wants anything to add?”

“No? Great. Let me tell you a little bit more about what is going to happen to you. Brace yourselves for this information. First your class will be selected, then you'll be thrown into the first floor to struggle. Don’t take too long though. The tower only allows you to stay on each floor for a certain amount of time.”

“I can’t directly help you inside of the tower, yet outside of it I am free to do what I please. For example I will resurrect you twice. That number will reset for each floor you clear. And it’s only twice because the procedure is highly expensive. And it only gets more expensive the stronger you become. That said, prove yourself and you’ll gain further boons from me, until then, you’re on your own.”

“My voice is getting a little bit dry so let’s wrap this up. You’ll be put to sleep and then in groups of thirty you will wake up in the selection room. The trainers of the room will then inspect you and your class will be selected.”

“Goodbye,” the figure said and clapped his hands.

At that moment a black mist spread across the room. Alexander and all the other humans in the room fell asleep. They didn’t collapse onto the ground or even close their eyelids, but they were asleep. If you got close and stared into their eyes, you’d find them away, distant.

The speaker pulled out a large phone from his pocket and dialled a number. The phone dialled for minutes, each second of which the speaker grew more agitated. Finally somebody picked up.

“You told me three thousand capable humans, not a fucking cripple,” the speaker said. “I want a replacement.”

“Jeffrey! You better than anybody else know of my reputation. You know what they say about me and deals,” a deep voice spoke on the other end. If he were here, and if the humans saw him, they’d recognise his two red horns and hypnotizingly beautiful features as the devil, one of the largest shareholders of earth.

“You lied!” The speaker spat.

“No. Give the boy a chance, who knows he might very well be the best of the bunch.”

“Don’t give me this shit Lucifer, he can’t fucking walk! He has to roll around. Roll! And this is a tower we’re talking about.”

“Listen bud. I like you, so if you’re not happy with the deal, we can always revert it. A special offer only made for you.”

“What’s the catch?”

Lucifer chuckled. “It’s possible your item might already have broken.”

The speaker choked back his fury, and hung up. On the other end Lucifer laughed and continued playing fetch with his dog, Cerberus. He’d gotten him after taking over the underworld from Hades. A lovely addition.

Jeffrey thought for a moment about what he should do and realised that he was too angry to think properly. Slowly, he cast a spell and pulled the anger out of his body. A red bubble came out and hovered right in front of him.

He cast another spell to clear it off its colour and his taint. This took a lot more effort even for him, a godly entity, proven by the beads of sweat that formed on his forehead. By the end, the gas of rage was completely invisible, although he could still feel it. If he just let it go it would sliver itself into one of the humans, killing most of their rational thought. He needed somewhere to store it, but there was nothing animate in the room except for the humans.

“Might as well,” he said as he directed the bubble into the cripple. He was going to throw him away either way. The boy started shaking. That would go away after a few moments. The shaking, not the rage. He might as well be emotionally crippled now. Only a mage of the highest calibre would be able to suck the rage out of him without killing him.

He dialled another number on his phone. This one answered immediately. “Martha, yes, there’s a boy named Alexander. Newly purchased. He’s damaged goods. I’d appreciate it if you were to drop our claim on him.”

“Are you certain, boss?”

“Yeah. I’m not wasting money reviving him.”

“This will make his soul susceptible to being stolen by trainers. We specifically don’t allow unclaimed souls into the tower for that reason. We could simply change the code so that it won’t resurrect him.”

“We change one thing in the code and the whole thing malfunctions. Just drop our claim. I doubt he’ll survive very long in the tower, and I’m not worried about anybody taking a legless monkey”

“Boss, not to be rude but can’t we heal him?”

“I checked for that. The wound would already have healed itself but whatever hurt him managed to mangle that part of his soul too. I didn’t think there were creatures on earth capable of injuring the soul. Either way, drop our claim on him.”

“Very well… It’s done. Couldn’t we just kill him now? Save us from the potential trouble.”

“No, the other powers are going to notice I made a mistake if I only send 2999 humans into the tower. I can’t have that stain on my reputation. He’ll go in. And that’s enough questions from you Martha. You’ve always asked too many goddamn questions.”

***

The whole world dissapeared for Alexander. Once the black gas touched him, everything turned black. He hadn’t simply fallen asleep, but sleep had snatched him and put him into a cage until further notice.

When he woke up he felt confused. Sleep always did that to him. He could simultaneously feel that a single moment had passed, and also that a couple hours had passed, but that they took the same space in his brain, as if they were the same. He also knew that sometime during those hours something had pained his head.

He found himself surrounded by thirty some people, all of them managing to piss him off somehow. Never before in his life had he experienced such a strong urge to pound his fist into them. The urge was completely foreign to him. A part of him desperately wanted to think things over because he knew all of this was illogical, but his mind was still numbed.

In the background, Alexander noticed that they weren’t alone. Standing in a circular formation were a bunch of strange creatures, some humans, some looking like humans, and some that could never be taken for a human. Some were five metres large, real giants, whilst others were tiny buzzing faeries. He saw extra limbs and extra eyes.

There was one thing which was consistent for all of the figures. They all had an aura which made the air around them crack and bend. It was like staring at a lion standing on a boulder above you. Your gut just knew that your life was no longer in your hands.

Almost all of the figures began moving towards the humans, although some stayed behind, not interested in what was offered. There were many more figures than there were humans, and within moments he found himself deep in a sea of these powerful entities which shot the rage inside of him back into his gut. They were absolutely terrifying.

The figures inspected and snooped and sniffed and grabbed and yanked. Alex noticed that most of the humans were getting pulled in different directions and argued over. He also noticed that nobody was looking at him. It was as if he was invisible.

Once again, rage slammed against his temples, and he jerked off his wheelchair towards the nearest figure, trying to injure him. Even his full weight couldn’t manage to make the creature budge. It felt like he’d slammed against a wall, which only made his anger more fierce. Alexander started roaring, which in return made one of the tinier figures cast a spell to silence him.

The noise he made simply vanished. He could still breathe and still say the words, but there was no noise. If he wasn’t so submerged in rage, he’d ponder at how strange the whole thing was. He felt a large hand grip his back and pull him upwards and throw him against his wheelchair.

A battle scarred creature with a large golden axe hanging on its back stared right at him. It was clearly humanoid yet Alexander found the creature’s face bullish, a thought only aided by the large copper nose ring.

“Rage,” the creature said as if it was the only thing to be said, a full sentence, the truth of all words, filling the vowels of the word with as much pressure as it damn could. “What exquisite rage you have for a human, if not for you being disabled, I’d take you under my wing. My first student in centuries.”

“Piss off,” Alexander said.

“Kid, remember this,” once again the creature spoke slowly and deliberately. “Rage is the greatest weapon there is. Learn to control it and it will serve you.”

“I said piss off!”

All the humans had been snatched except for Alexander. Some of the creature’s which had been rejected, bitterly glanced around the room for anybody still left. After realising that it was only Alexander, they scoffed and faded away. Alexander found himself screaming out his rage in a room which was getting emptier by the second, until he thought there was only him left.

He heard a giggle.

“You didn’t get a single offer. That hasn’t happened in.. Well, never while I’ve been here.”

Alexander’s head jerked around to find a figure clouded in darkness sitting on a chair made out of bone. Is he mocking me!? His hands took to action, grabbing the wheels of his wheelchair and turning around to roll over to him. He stopped when his legs touched the darkness. If he could see a face, he’d smash it with his bare hands.

“Tell me again,” he said through gritted teeth. “What. Didn’t. Happen. To. Me?”

“You haven’t been chosen by anybody. For some reason people have this misconception in towers that you get to pick what class to follow. That’s never been the case though. Not in towers, not in real life. You didn’t get to choose to live or not. You didn’t get to choose anything in life. Free will is an illusion.”

“You’re saying it’s all random.”

“It’s never random. In this room the person’s character, attitude and physique affect the choosing.”

“Choosing?”

“Are you crippled both mentally and physically, child?”

That did it. Alexander leapt out of the wheelchair, ready to mangle the creature behind the darkness, limitations be damned. Yet, he never travelled past the darkness, instead feeling his face slam into the side of it.Two invisible hands grabbed him and put him back in his wheelchair, now restraining him.

A giggle escaped the figure covered by darkness. The giggle didn’t at all match the despair-giving aura around the figure. Hihihi.

“What happens if I don’t get picked,” Alexander spat.

“I don’t know. Maybe you just drop dead or you stay in this space until you starve to death.”

“I guess you’re my only choice then.”

“What makes you think I’d ever accept a cripple?”

“Cause you stayed?”

“To taunt you… Cripple.”

“Bastard! I’ll slaughter you. Just you wait. I’ll kill you.”

“Jeez, you’re doing an amazing job of convincing me here. Slaughtered and then killed? What an experience.”

“So that’s it huh? I’m just a cripple? That’s all I am anymore. Ever since somebody broke my legs I’ve become just a cripple. Fuck you then. Leave me alone. I’ll figure out another path.”

“Somebody broke your legs? Aww, sweetheart. Let me give you a kiss to alleviate the pain.”

Alexander tried to leap at the figure once more but the ethereal hands kept him firmly planted in his chair. He seethed and all the muscles on his face contorted to make him look devilish. The menacing figure giggled again. Hihihi.

“It took a couple of comments to make you so mad you broke the spell on you and struck a creature strong enough to torture you for eternity, even after death. Intelligence clearly isn’t your strongside either. It’s enough to make me curious about why you were chosen.”

“I’m the bad apple in a package deal. That’s what I heard.”

“No. Group deals are much more regulated than that. If you were chosen that must mean there’s something about you which makes up for your blaring faults. An untapped genius. What could it be?”

“Blaring faults? Bastard!”

“This rage won’t do me any good anymore, give me a second,” a red bubble seeped out of the human, almost out of its own accord. Five spells had been cast in that second.

Alexander felt as if the boiling river inside of his mind, slamming against him, burning him, had simply vanished. It felt like he was in a new space entirely. For the first time he glanced around and noticed the unending white space around him.

“Do you believe in tarot cards?”

“No.”

“Then you definitely won’t believe in this.”

Out of the darkness surrounding the creature, card after card floated out. They kept coming until there were some three hundred cards all laying flat in the air at different points. They moved up and sideways in a seemingly random pattern, shuffling themselves. Then, they all stopped and jerked so that the face of the card pointed at him.

And it was quite literally a face on each card. The faces all stared at Alexander with different expressions on their faces. Some yawned, some cried, some laughed, some were 2d, some had a finger pointed towards Alexander. He didn’t quite care though. Apart from being amazed at the fact that they could move, it didn’t mean much.

“Pick one,” the figure said.

Alexander picked the card near the middle. It had a face with a sweaty forehead. The eyes were wide and the lines around the mouth were tight. There wasn’t any specific reason for the act. He did it. Nothing more than that.

The figure snatched the card out of the air, and Alexander got a glimpse of its hand. It was made out of bone. It made him curious and he wondered if he was talking to a skeleton.

“You picked the general. That’s interesting. Could it be that your skill is leading? No. Then others would have snatched you up in a heartbeat. Perhaps you’re a master of tactics? Ever played chess cripple?”

“Tried it out once. It’s boring.”

“Did you win?”

“Yeah.”

“Interesting. I wonder if it’s why you’re talking to me right now? Let’s put it to the test.”

A table formed between us. It was made out of a white substance too pure to be bone. A chess board formed a heartbeat later. There were no pieces though, only the white and black squares.

“You’ll get dominion over five pieces, me over three. If you manage to beat me I’ll train you in the tower.”

Then, three black tiny skeletons materialised in front of the figure, and five white skeletons materialised in front of Alexander. Something connected his mind to the pieces. He willed one of his skeletons to glance backwards at him and it did it.

Suddenly, the black skeletons charged towards the white ones. They ran across the chessboard in a triangle formation. Alexander knew that the figure was trying to shock him into a victory. A common strategy in some games.

What he had to do was simple. He already had the numerical advantage. All he needed to do was neutralise the movement and the battle was his. He ordered his skeletons to form a wall formation, two in front and two behind. Whilst he positioned the fifth one to be ready for a flank.

“Ahh but that won’t work, cripple. These skeleton’s combat ability are mindnumbingly dumb without direct control. They won’t be able to fend off the assault.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll control them manually then.”

The triangle formation, wedge, slammed against the wall. The four skeletons managed to neutralise the movement. The two in front would have been overwhelmed if not for the two in the back providing support.

The movement had been neutralised, and with that Alexander’s fifth unit flanked and slashed them from behind, killing one. The rest of the fight was easily won. At the end Alexander found himself thinking the whole thing was a lot more boring than he expected.

The shadow cloaked figure sat silent for a minute. Alexander had the distinct feeling that he was being stared at. The bony white hand slowly crept out of the darkness until its palms were pointing right at him.

A blue metall shot out of the palm and wrapped itself around Alexander’s neck, like a leash. Alexander struggled to get it off, yet he couldn’t. It continued to choke him, growing tighter and tighter, until it slipped into his skin.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I have claimed you,” the figure said and predicted the next question. “It means essentially that I know where you are at all times, and that I know your state. The chains around your soul make it impossible for you to lie to me and for you to try to hurt me in any way. Also, if you were to win in the tower, I would get 90% of the prize.”

“Why the hell would I want to win then? If I only get 10%.”

“There’s more to it. Me claiming you allows me to not only train you, but mould you. It also means that a part of me, of my strength, will always lie in you. I am not strong enough to do this many times, so you are quite a risk. But I do believe you have a chance of winning.”

“From one game of whatever that was?”

“If you only knew what you just did,” the creature muttered. “I’ll send you to the training room. We’ve got a day until the tower will open up, and you need to get ready.”

With that, Morticous made Alexander vanish into another space, and kept sitting on his chair, completely dumbfounded and dazed. He felt tense, afraid, as if he’d been face to face with a monster, one that simply hadn’t understood its own capacity.

He looked up at the ball of rage. No human could create so much anger without also creating an equal amount of stress or pain or something else, which showed the source of the anger. It was clear that it had been given, but for that to happen without causing an instant heart attack, the anger must have been completely pure, without any taint.

The time it had spent inside of Alexander had tainted it however, made it his. Morticous reached towards the cloud of rage and started chanting. The cloud grew denser and denser until it took the shape of a red skull. He’d give it to Alexander to create his first skeleton out of. It would become the skeleton of rage. The greatest skeleton in his army.

The realisation then hit him.

I have unleashed a calamity.

“Hihihihi.”