Of Close Quarters and Carcinization

The Gamer crept slowly through the corridors of the wreck, constantly aware of every slight noise around him, as every drip of water echoed a hundred times. Besides water, the interior was eerily quiet. Even the rumble of thunder was muted to almost nothing. The halls were damp and musty and bone-chillingly cold. His flashlight barely cut the overwhelming darkness enough to see.

Wet steel and worn paint stretched endlessly around him.

John checked every corner carefully as he swept through the rooms, calling upon his memories of room clearing in tactical FPS games.

’There’s no way the wreck was this wide… was it? I feel like I’m going through a funhouse right now,’ John lamented, rounding the corner to another dark hallway. ’I hate this, man; this was a bad idea.’

The Gamer paused at the next intersection, looking for some kind of indication of where he was relative to anything else. His initial plan had been to simply keep moving from port to starboard on the ship, following the compass. He assumed that, eventually, he would hit the far side from which he could start searching for an exit, yet the ship seemed to stretch forever.

John acknowledged that it was not unlikely that he’d mistepped and turned or simply gotten lost, but he hadn’t been prudent enough to keep track of where he’d been with markers or anything.

’Come on, John! Basic exploration game stuff here. Torches on the left only,’ he chastised himself. ’This is way harder in real life…’

Although backtracking his way out seemed impossible, John did catch a lucky break in finding a worn set of arrows painted on the wall. It seemed as though, at one point, they had been intended to guide guests or workers to key places. While most were illegible, he was able to barely make out indicators for two staircases - one down to the engine room and another up, presumably towards the bridge.

John reasoned that if he could work his way up and onto the ship’s deck, he could try to climb down off the other side. Even if he couldn’t, the vantage point might give him a better perspective on where he still needed to go.

Before leaving the intersection, John stopped to cast [Reshape Matter] on the wall, leaving a small J indented by the arrows. He mapped the arrow to his compass, then set out once again in search of an exit.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The further John went, the more he began to notice small things that made him uneasy. Despite traveling on what felt like even ground, water was beginning to pool around the edges of the hallways, getting deeper and deeper. The halls he was passing through now were even more eroded than the others. The paint had seemingly been scraped off the walls with a thousand tiny knives, leaving the exposed metal to corrode freely.

John rounded another corner and stopped to check his equipment. The water was soaking through his shoes and into his socks now, and every step he took made a disgusting plopping noise. The outside had been humid to go with its chilling air, but the interior was chalky - neither were pleasant to keep breathing in.

It was also getting colder; John could see his breath in front of him now. He confirmed that he was still going in the same direction as the arrow had pointed and crouched down to check the rising waterline.

’At least it doesn’t seem to be getting much deeper in front of me,’ he thought. ’I hate wet socks though; maybe I should just take them o-’

John was startled from his thoughts by the sounds of skittering behind him. He spun as fast as he could while hunched over, just in time for something to smack him in the face. John went down screaming, dropping his flashlight and focus as he splashed into the water.

His only source of light disappeared beneath the water, and he was plunged into darkness, only a faint blue glow remaining.

The Gamer flailed in desperation as something fast and sharp stabbed dangerously close to his eye. The side of his face went hot with pain and John smacked whatever was on top of him as hard as he could.

The light he had began to flicker off to his side.

His swing was still meager in strength, but it had staggered whatever was on top of him long enough that its second stab went wide, slicing his cheek open. Pinpricks dotted John’s chest, cutting through his jacket like it was paper. A spear of pain pierced his stomach. Panicking, John pointed a finger gun at whatever was on his head, channeling his [Lesser Air Burst].

“Get off me!” he screamed.

The glow of his magic tinted the hallway hideous green. John’s arm was alight with rings of color, and a mass of air, swirling with green-tinted mana, formed at his fingertip and exploded right in his eyes.

Whatever was on top of him went flying down the corridor, landing with a mighty crash in the water. John’s head was slammed downward from the **** of the blast, letting out a sickening crack against the metal floor.

You have suffered a minor concussion. INT and WIS are reduced for 5 minutes

John’s throat was too raw to scream, only adrenaline rushing to match his fear. Bile rose in his mouth. The back of his head had formed a sickeningly warm wet patch and his vision was blurry, but the instinct to survive had taken over. The Gamer searched for movement in the fuzzy splotches of color in front of him. He clambered back up against the wall, using it to support his weight as he sat up.

’Double tap,’ John’s monkey brain ordered. ’Make sure it stays down.’

At the first sign of movement, John fired again. The green burst slamming somewhere down the corridor. He didn’t know if the creature was alive, he didn’t know what he was firing towards at all, but nothing was going to get near him without a fight. Twice more he blindly fired before his vision began to clear.

John was shaking. Adrenaline left his body and pain took its place. The water around him was tinted red, illuminated only by the dimming glow of his flashlight. A sack of loot sat a ways down the hall. The Gamer had never gotten to see his assailant. The left side of his face was stained scarlet; reaching behind his head, John found his hair matted with yet more blood. He began shivering, water soaking through his clothing and backpack.

The wall gave John enough of a brace to get back to his feet, and he stumbled down the hall, grabbing the loot and fallen equipment. He’d lost half his HP in what had felt like moments, his muscles ached, and his mana was low after he’d spammed so much.

’I… need to get out…’ he thought slowly, head throbbing. ’Find the stairs.’

John continued his slow shuffle down the hall, hoping he could get out before any more of whatever that had been could get to him. As fear subsided and higher thought returned, John began to take inventory again. He didn’t have time to check himself, but it seemed as though his skull had put itself back together; the work of Gamer’s Body, John surmised - a miracle.

’You’re such an idiot, John. Of course there’s friendly fire. You nearly killed yourself! ...Got magic powers in the morning and can’t even go one day without mucking it up... ’ John chastised himself, anger replacing despair. ’How stupid are you to think that you’d be able to clear a dungeon on your own? John Newman, Loser Supreme.’

John slowed to a walk, taking deep breaths. He tried to cut off his self-depreciation, realizing that he was leaving himself open. Tears welled up in his eyes. A single thought remained.

’I might have died back there if Gamer’s Body hadn’t literally held my skull together,’ John realized, checking his equipment. ’I… That’s…’

Though he was **** up, he kept moving. Nothing but escape mattered.

’You die when you give up, come on, John.’ he tried telling himself. ’Game isn’t over… game isn’t over… game isn’t over…’

Then he heard it again - movement in the water behind him.

Something was still after him.

Something was hunting him.

Run.

John broke out into a dead sprint. Adrenaline slowly returned to power his aching muscles. He turned just briefly enough to cast a [Lesser Earth Spike] across the bottom of the hall behind him, hoping to trip whatever was rushing him from the darkness.

As hard as he ran, he knew he couldn’t keep it up. The water was getting deeper, and John knew he was just tiring out. There was skittering behind him. Tips and taps rang out as whatever was chasing him clattered across the steel. It was more than one now, he was sure. The clicking and clacking continued to get louder.

He wasn’t getting away.

’Plan, John, you need a plan! Ideas, brain, please!’ he pleaded with himself as he raced down the corridors of the ship, each dark gray hall blending into the next. ’OK, think. The last one jumped you… it, uh… it probably wanted to knock you over. Don’t let them get close. Don’t let them ambush…’

John scrambled to put together a battle plan when he reached another intersection and an idea hit him. The Gamer sidestepped to the right and whirled around. He held his flashlight in his teeth to free his hand and started channeling his Aero spell.

’Corner bait, try and break them up… I need to see what I’m even trying to fight!’

Moments stretched into eternity as John waited, mana gathering. He struggled to steady his breath as his targets approached.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Then, they were there, dashing around the corner, legs scratching and scraping on the walls as they rushed to John. They were twisted, spindly creatures - giant monster crabs half as tall as John with splotched purple shells and legs sharpened to knife edges - all scrambling over each other to get to him as quickly as possible. Their massive legs were stained red and black already.

’Low mana. Just a couple shots,’ he quickly processed, scrambling further back, ’Need to keep them all in front. Man, they’re fast! I’m too close!’

The Gamer’s realization was far too late though, as the monsters advanced with unnatural speed, their pointed legs rapping against the steel floor as they scurried to him. John completed his channel, drawing once more upon the power of air, and fired at the wall next to where they were skittering, not trusting himself to hit a moving target.

The AoE enveloped the three, cracking their shells and throwing them wildly. Two were flung backwards, but one was thrown towards John, knife-legs extended.

The frontmost crab advanced on him from where it landed, pale goo leaking from its fractured carapace. A shock running down his spine, The Gamer tried to juke, but the hallway’s limited width and water-covered bottom made it impossible. He tried to shield himself from the monster’s knife-leg, only succeeding in catching it with the palm of his free hand, impaling himself on the monster.

The monster had terrifying strength in such an anemic limb, and it threatened to tear through John’s hand entirely. Pain nearly overwhelmed him again, but he grunted and bit his teeth into the rubber on the flashlight’s handle. He blinked away tears that started to form and focused on staying alive.

Gushing crimson fluid, John closed his fingers on the creature’s leg and used it to slam the monster into the wall. Ripping his hand free, The Gamer kicked as hard as he could into the monster’s bottom, caving it in and killing it. His ruined hand was spilling blood everywhere as he withdrew it, clutching it to his chest as he tried to find the other two crabs again.

Gamer’s Body set to work trying to reassemble his hand, but the second Mad Crab was upon him before it was done. He had no time to respond to the second offensive. The monster cut deep into John’s thigh, and he howled in pain. Entirely exhausted, John **** himself to keep pushing through the haze.

He bit down harder onto the flashlight, pain shooting through his teeth as he kicked out at the creature. His **** swing hit home, battering the creature’s soft underside. Then, he brought his focus down as hard as he could on top, a mighty WHAP accompanying the strike. The monster scrambled back, hurt, but not dead. With one leg wounded and the other extended, John couldn’t hold his balance, and he fell over backwards as the third crab approached in lieu of its wounded brother.

The Gamer scrambled backwards, splashing through the water, **** to keep the creature away. It seemed to know that its prey was ****, though, and advanced without hesitation. As his would-be killer approached, John’s breathing slowed.

He had enough mana for one shot left, and two more enemies to kill.

’Just hit it… You die if you don’t…’

John flung his half-reformed hand out, the muscles still sewing themselves together as he desperately channeled one more spell. He was so tired, so drained from fighting and pain. He prayed that he might land one more shot.

The Gamer stared into the creature’s beady black eyes as it strode toward him. He saw nothing but ****.

The third crab pounced and John met its advance with magical fury. He waited until the creature was horrifyingly close and fired, his aim true. The [Lesser Air Burst] ripped it apart, scattering chunks of flesh up and down the hall. The blue bar of his mana was all but empty. John estimated less than five points remained.

Drained, John dropped his focus and it crashed into the standing water with a splash as he swapped weapon sets. He stood on uncertain legs, coughing as he struggled to keep his flashlight steady. It stung to grasp with his injuries, but he had little choice, forcing his digits to close around his knife. Another cough and blood began to run down his chin. John hoped that Gamer’s Body would deal with that shortly.

The final enemy approached. It too was wounded, dripping black ooze and blood into the water as it advanced. John had managed to crack its shell with the initial blast and one of its legs appeared broken, but his opponent advanced nonetheless, hungry for the kill. His own blood stained the creature's front leg.

’You need an edge, John… What the hell can you do with your mana? THINK.’

The Gamer held his knife out, blade sideways, keeping it between him and the enemy. Only one of them could walk away from this. John panted as he slowly stepped away from the monster. Unlike the others which had died on their first rushes, this one seemed to have learned that he wasn’t entirely helpless. It also knew that he was hurt, and now much slower than he had been before.

Water sloshed around John’s legs as he carefully backed up, hoping to buy precious seconds for his mana to regenerate.

’I’ve got enough mana for maybe one second of...’

Suddenly, the Mad Crab rushed him.

John’s reaction was too slow.

He stabbed down at the monster, but it was inside his swipe before he could strike home. The monster jumped, legs cutting into John’s arm and chest as it tried to knock him down, but he shifted so he fell against a wall and stayed vertical. The Gamer jerked as a blade-leg reached upward, slicing at his collarbone.

Spindly legs kept John’s knife hand pinned, but he spun, using the outward momentum to create enough space between himself and the creature to wedge his other arm in between. Prying the crab away, he threw it off him and to the ground, its legs slicing down his arm, **** to keep hold. As it splashed into the layer of water below, John had an idea.

“FREEZE!” he yelled with all of his pain and fury, expelling every point of mana he had left.

The water beneath the creature shuddered, then exploded with crystals of ice. All the power The Gamer had left went into a single burst of [Reshape Matter]. The frost crept up the monster's sides, locking it upside down.

John hadn’t waited to see if his gamble would work, The Gamer was already jumping atop the monster and swinging, using his weight to pin its appendages.

He threw blow after blow at the creature. He stabbed it, embedding his knife into the squishy underbelly of the crab, then raised his crowbar and began driving the knife home with it. The first drove the blade into the already softened underside. The second drove even the handle in. The third hit nothing but mush. He smashed it again and again, even when it had stopped moving. As it began to dissipate, John swung one final time, and his knife went flying, splashing into the water in front of him.

The only sound left was John’s shaky breathing.