AnimaNova.exe (Arc1:Chp5)

Arc 1

Chapter 5 - The Private Chat

Sophia gritted her teeth. The pain became so unbearable that screaming wasn’t helping anymore. She gave up on blocking the shiv and instead grabbed the woman’s face, squeezing and pushing it away.

Beads of blood formed where Sophia's claws dug and tore into her skin. The elf woman didn’t even flinch, but she did back up an inch and the pressure on the shiv eased.

Sophia looked around for help but found Armin surrounded by enemies and no way to free himself quickly. A smiling Gen’varel and his subordinates were not only overwhelmed by the glassy-eyed ones but also by a few others who saw the chaos as an opportunity to either join in or flee in a blind panic, running over anyone who got in their way. She was on her own and uncertain whether she would be able to make it through alive.

‘How did death work here? Was it true to the game, or was it something else that differed? Wait…’ she thought with dread. ‘This was the tutorial zone; dying here was never the same as the rest of the game.’

Sophia mustered all the strength she could to try to push the woman off. Her scream became a battle cry rather than a cry for help. She didn’t know where she’d end up and she wasn’t fond of getting stuck in a respawn loop or actually dying here. She certainly didn’t trust a crazy woman’s ravings about being freed from this place. She would happily take her order of freedom, pain-free and without the side dish of death.

She managed to push the woman far enough to lock her elbows again. But she couldn’t twist enough to fully push her off with the roots holding her in place.

A bare foot smashed against the woman’s temple, the kick rattling her teeth as her head swung to the side and back. Her eyes lost focus and both her grip and the roots grew slack. The man it belonged to stepped between them, his muscled legs straddling Sophia’s torso on each side. Taking the opportunity to manoeuvre her leg between them, Sophia kicked the woman off.

Dazed, the woman paused and shook her head. Her eyes cleared and she hissed something. Then it was gone, like flicking off a switch, until there was nothing left but animalistic aggression. She lunged at Sophia. The man blocked her and pushed her back. They tussled, trying to push the other off balance. He seemed like he was trying to calm her and control her frenzied flailing rather than fight her.

“Shuri, stop it!” he pleaded in frustration.

The woman, Shuri, seemed deaf to his voice. She pulled out of his grip and grabbed his forearm, right over a bandaged area and squeezed. A pained growl escaped from his grimacing lips as the bandage stained dark around the areas where her fingertips dug in. They struggled and disappeared among the bodies involved in the riot.

Sophia ripped her limbs from the dry roots and pulled the shiv from her shoulder, throwing it away. She knew she shouldn’t but the way the weapon was crackling, she didn’t trust having it anywhere near her. She shuffled across the floor and leaned against a wall between two prison cells. Her ears flicked in every direction as they caught every clang and magical explosion. The smell of blood, sweat and dust filled her nose. She felt her tail swish back and forth in stilted agitation behind her, the sensation still foreign and unnatural. Her shoulder ached but the only thing she could think to alleviate it was to press the heel of her palm against it.

Her mind reeled from the sensory overload, and she felt a dragging aggravation in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Rage blinded her eyes. Her instruction floated before her, but she couldn’t see it. The world was chaos and she wanted… Vengeance. The word tickled her brain like a whispered caress.

She had nowhere to place her rage and it dissipated. Or more accurately, it suppressed itself, taking root in the back of her mind. Seething, silent and waiting.

She caught herself when she felt her body go faint and fall to the side. Her hand dug into the unusually moist dirt to root herself in this reality. Her vision cleared. Sophia looked at her hand, uncomfortable with the thick, sticky feel of the mud coating it. It was covered in a dirty, viscous red liquid that smelled very much like blood. She flicked her hand in disgust to get it off. Instinctively, she turned to see where the blood was coming from.

She followed the pool into the cell next to her. There was a pale, colourless arm lying within it. Her heart dropped and she sucked in a shocked breath, the hissing sound loud in her ears. She started in fright when a calloused hand covered her eyes.

“Don’t look!” he urged, grabbed her under the arm and pulled her to her feet. He guided her forward, turning her left before stopping and removing his hand.

It was the same man who had saved her and tussled with the crazed druid. He was Eastguardian, a human subgroup inspired by the Asian appearance and culture from the real world, with dark eyes and full, glossy hair. His avatar was very much created and designed to have a K-pop heartthrob look.

He peeled back her rags to assess her shoulder. The wound had diminished into a dull pain. She looked down and saw it had closed into a fresh, angry-looking bruise.

“Looks like that increased health recovery is working. I’m a bit jealous. My wounds take hours to heal, not minutes,” he mused.

“Why would they do that?” Sophia shrieked hysterically, tears flooding her eyes.

“Stop!” he barked. He waved his hand before her as a way to indicate her entire face. “Whatever you’re feeling, suck it up, or you and I will not survive down here.”

Sophia turned from him. His harsh words sobered her up and she tried to stop herself from crying.

“It’s hard to come to terms with what this place really is,” he sighed after a few silent moments.

“This isn’t a game, is it?” she mumbled.

“Nope. If it was, it sucks. Zero out of ten,” he joked, humourlessly. “This isn’t a dream or some social experiment or entertainment for twisted rich people either. I’ve been stuck here for a week and seen some strange shit. You need to keep a level head. You're not just in danger from the Order; the players here can be far worse. And there’s something more sinister going on with some of them.

“Rat-Tail… er, Shuri… The elf who attacked you. He was a guildmate; we chatted on Discourse now and then. He was a kook but not crazy. Unlike most, he was happy to be here but never considered this place real. He always saw it as a game, no matter what happened. I envied his delusion.

“It creeped the Order out enough to never mention him to Commander Armin. I can’t blame them. Shuri began to change into someone I didn’t recognise, becoming irritable and moody. He started talking to people who weren’t there, hearing voices that no one else did. Then, raving about freeing people by bathing them in blood. A chant the Mindbroken seem to respond to. You aren’t seeing things, are you?” he asked with sudden suspicion.

“Uh, no,” Sophia answered carefully.

“Good, I don’t remember any of that crap being in the game. I don’t understand what happened to him. Is it the prison below?”

His musings stopped at the sudden ticking from their collars. The blue light flashed an urgent red.

“Shit!” he exclaimed when they started buzzing.

The buzzing grew louder and harsher. Sophia jolted as a sharp pulse zapped into her neck. She immediately tried to get it off, only to be zapped by a stronger, more painful pulse. Her body convulsed and she fell to the ground, stiff as a board.

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