VOLUME I: Dead on Arrival

The acrid smell of the monster's nest assaulted my senses as my feet carried me like the wind. I stepped across the loose sand of the desert marina, kicking up the forsaken grains made from the ground bone and weathered souls that haunted the Broken Shard Sea. Moving faster than I ever believed possible, I pushed myself beyond what I thought I had been capable of. Beyond what my body could handle. After all, the moment was now. And if it failed—if I failed—all would be lost.

Charging forward, headfirst into the damnation I knew awaited me, I could feel my body growing weaker. My muscles screamed, begging me to stop. To end their torment. To retreat. But I refused. With every shift of my pockmarked skin, I felt the deluge of acid that had washed over me moments before continue to eat away at my flesh. It burned down to my bones, sizzling loudly in my ears, reminding me how close this dance with death was taking me to the edge. But I wouldn't delay a moment longer. Regardless of the pain—the anguish—none of it mattered because I finally had a purpose.

Cutting through fog, I could see it now. The huge form that stalked in the distance. The grim spectre whose eyes flared with malicious intent as I approached.

Then, without warning, the shadow shifted. Like the flash of lightning before the thunder, a massive jaw clamped around my torso, puncturing my half-digested flesh. I tried to scream. Tried to cry out in agony. But all I heard was the sounds of my own blood spilling past my lips. 

With a pained glance down, I could see it. See my life pouring past my hips, spilling over ancient teeth like a ruby stream.

“Gah-ah!” I managed to exhale as I was tossed through the air like a rag doll.

I was flying, and then, I was falling. Before I knew it, gravity had taken over, pulling me down towards the serrated maw. Down towards chattering teeth that hungrily awaited my return. The world slowed as the gargantuan jaw snapped and cracked, opening beyond its range as I tumbled towards it.

“I’m sorry…” A voice cut through the chaos, piercing my mind. 

It was an unfamiliar voice, but strangely soothing. I wanted to trust it. Wanted to understand why it was sorry. But I wouldn't have the chance as, through the fog, a distant point of light came into focus before an arrow cut through the air, aimed at my heart.

—ooo—

“Tyuh!” I gasped, startled awake by the dream.

Lifting my head from the worn computer desk, I slid an arm down and grabbed my shirt. My heart was racing as it always was when I awoke from a terror. It thudded forcefully against my chest, rattling the cage that kept it from leaping out into the world.

“Just another nightmare—” I whispered as my shaky grip extended towards the bottle of pilled salvation beside me. “They're always nightmares. Fug, I hate dreams. If I could never have one again, it would still be too soon.”

My name’s Tahvin Echebarriscoa. I reminded myself, separating the here and now from the fictional reality I had just experienced as I tossed back a pill for the nerves. I'm thirty-five, unemployed, alone, and, currently, hunched over the keyboard of my computer. Okay, maybe I didn't need to think all this...

At some point in the early morning hours, I had fallen asleep at my desk. And, while it was frankly not ideal, it was my life. A life stuck between a state of depressive hibernation and a failed attempt at being a writer. Between the periods that I was tossing back pills by the handful and strangling the necks of liquor bottles, my fingers clacked across keys like machine gun fire, typing away at my latest story chapters. There was nothing I wanted more in life than to finish the next chapter. It was the same as it was last week. And the week before that. 

It was a sad, lonely life. But it was mine. My life. My burden.

As I leaned back in the chair, waiting for the pill to release the happy little chemicals to my mind, I glanced up at the dusty picture frame on the distant dresser. It was the one I kept face down so I didn't have to see her. See the happiness in both our eyes and be reminded of times when I wanted something other than my story. Times when I wasn't alone. When she was still with me.

Shaking my head, I thought of the story once more. Esseria. My world. A dying world. A culmination of years of suffering that was now coming to its climactic peak with the eternal lich, Phyllis, channelling the last of her energy into summoning a hero to complete her goal of raising a long-dead God. The last piece on the gameboard before the coming final battle between evil and lesser evil. A make-or-break, winner-take-all fight that would leave the fate of my burnt and scarred world to the victor.

Vrt, vrt— My phone buzzed, alerting me to a message.

Glancing at the screen, I ignored the text and instead looked at the time.

Nine-forty?! I thought, sitting up straight in my chair. Crap! I lost a lot of time.

Though the time I lost was of no importance to anyone. No one thought of me or actually cared. My family was gone long ago. I wasn’t famous or talented. No fans or friends, no one trying to mooch off me or ride my coattails. But, in the end, I wasn't trying to be that person. I just wrote. Wrote to forget. Wrote to live for something. Anything. For a fantasy. My fantasy. My escape from this reality.

With a crack of my knuckles, I gave the computer mouse a feverous shake, awakening the beast beside me and allowing the white light of the open document to wash over my face.

“And with a final splash of virginal blood, the ancient guardian finished the sigil," I muttered, rereading where I had left off before exhaustion took me. "The lich's body was weak. Drained of the energy she had been forced to sacrifice in preparation for this ancient and dangerous ritual. 'Now,' Phyllis spoke, her voice barely a whisper, 'Time to get this show on the road.' Raising her arms, she—”

Vrt, vrt— My phone buzzed again.

“Ugh, come on!” I grumbled to myself as I picked up the device to finally look at the messages.

Whenever I was at my lowest, I always forgot that there was still one person in my life. He was a poor soul caught in the orbit of the dying star that was my existence. Alyx, the last person still calling me a friend after everything that had happened, and the only one who occasionally graced me with messages.

I had forgotten that he had planned a blind brunch date for me today, where I was supposed to meet his other nerdy friend. She liked fantasy books, Kaverns and Kobolds, and hanging out on the couch while watching shows. The last of which obviously being a euphemism for the twenty-toe tango that once upon a time I enjoyed. In fact, from everything he detailed about her, she sounded like the perfect woman for me. Yet I wanted nothing to do with her.

With a sigh, I glanced up from the text and again at the dust-covered picture, trying to remember how long it had been since the accident. Raising my hand, I stared at my ring finger and the banded dent from wearing it too long after I should have put it away. I had worn it for some years afterwards, but I couldn't remember when I had finally stopped.

Two? Maybe three years ago? Time blurs when you're spending it at the bottom of a bottle with a handful of pills. I thought as I realized I had slept through the date. Oh well, too late for that now. Probably for the better anyway. For her. I mean, who even goes on brunch dates? I don’t even like crêpes.

Ignoring the messages, I dropped the phone on the desk.

Alyx was only doing what he thought was best for me. He had said he didn’t like seeing me like this. That, for my sake, I should get out of the apartment with him more. For me. For her. Because she would have wanted it. That she had wanted it.

But what did he know? He hadn’t lived my life. He didn’t understand the pain I felt every moment I remained on Earth. The only thing that kept me from running into traffic was my story. The current chapter that I poured my soul into. Though maybe, once the final arc of this last era was done and I knew how the story ended, I'd finally take that long nap. Finally get to join her.

Who am I kidding? She was an angel. I'll never go wherever she did. I'm off to the motel snackbar in hell, not the eternal brunch in the sky.

With a smack of my lips, I suddenly realized how thirsty I was. The thoughts of brunch and sad things had done their part in creating a void that needed filling—specifically with alcohol.

Though… I thought to myself. A mimosa does sound good. Oooh, or a tequila sunrise. But that would require me to get up—

Sighing, I looked towards the door that opened to the rest of the apartment.

“Ugh! Effort is hard. I wish I had a mini-bar or something in here. But that would also require me to do things.”

Defeated by my own depression-induced laziness, I returned to the screen and continued to reread the last few paragraphs in an attempt to settle myself back into the narrative.

“Raising her arms, she…” I tapped away, making a quick edit. “Began-to-mutter…a series of nonsensical words. Words that meant nothing to anyone who would hear them but to the ancient and omnipotent Phyllis came as a powerful incantation. The sigil began to glow as a gust whipped the fragile parchments of the spell, tearing them to shreds. She would only have one shot at getting this to work. So, raising her weak arms—no—with-her-weak-arms-lifted-she finished the incantation with a single proclamation, ‘I’m coming to get y—"

Vrt, vrt— A third message.

“What the fug! Seriously, dude?” I sighed, picking up the phone and looking at the text chain. “Let me just yank one out in peace!”

The chapter, of course. I thought after speaking aloud. Though Palmela Handerson does seem lonely…

There, amongst the sea of blue, a single green bubble of text had come through.

September 22 - 9:43 - ‘I’m coming to get you.’

There's no number attached to it. I thought, examining the text closely. A glitch on the provider's end, maybe? But it came after Alyx’s text chain, so it likely means that he's coming over with the date.

Putting the phone down, I sighed at the thought of company. I glanced down at my soda-stained shirt and sweats before rubbing my hands against my face.

“Ugh! Nuuu—” I continued with a groan, “I don’t want to get dressed. I’d rather get hit by a—”

That was when I heard them. Screams from outside. They cried out as the sound of metal crushing against metal grew louder. Turning my head towards the window, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to look outside, let alone react. In an instant, the rumbling engine of a transport truck grew louder until the sound of the vehicle was replaced with the chaos of it breaking through the wall of my first-floor apartment. Before I even knew what had happened, my world went dark.