Andre - Page 71
A weapon gives you the best chance of survival. The demon skeleton wields a huge sword that can easily slice through bone. You might be overweight, but you are no novice to medieval combat. You've spent hundreds of hours training with a foam sword in your basement - and you've spent thousands of hours leveling Avesta, the beautiful female warrior you've carefully crafted in World of Warcraft. If there is one thing you know, its how to kill monsters with melee weapons.
You turn and dive back into the basement, scouring the rubble for a suitable weapon. Dozens of objects might work. Several lengths of pipe from the broken water heater are scattered at your feet. Any of them would make a nice club, but the metal feels flimsy and unstable in your hand. One swipe of the skeleton's sword would destroy it instantly.
A few of the wooden floorboards have nasty looking nails protruding from them. You pick up a piece the length of your arm but toss it aside in disgust. The wood is rough and unfinished and you don't have any gloves. Long nights spent holding a computer mouse haven't given you the callouses you need to wield a broken wooden board.
An idea creeps up in the back of your head like a spider climbing across your skin while you sleep. You shake your head and close your eyes. No. You can't do it.
Ahh.... but you can! You run to the burning crevice and peer into the swirling flames. A pathetic looking human, if it can even be called that, gazes back at you with stitched eyes. Bloody twine pierced the human's flesh and holds its eyes, nose, and mouth shut. A bone-chilling shudder runs from the base of your spine up to the back of your skull. You know beyond a doubt that the creature is some sort of hellish slave.
"I need a weapon," you call down tentatively. The sensory deprived creature turns to gaze up at you and somehow, a flicker of recognition dances across the bloody face. Moving painfully slowly, the slave turns away and walks out of your view. "Shit," you mutter under your breath.
You scramble around the basement, searching for some type of wire or cable to bind several of the broken copper pipes together into a more stable club. You find a green extension cord and start to loop several of the pipe sections together as quickly as you can. A rumbling comes from upstairs. Is it the demon? Shit.
You tie the cord around the pipes and flex, feeling the weight in your hand. The club is about two feet long, but it isn't heavy enough. It will break the first time you swing it. Avesta would never lower herself to use such a primitive and barbaric weapon. You need something worthy of a knight - worthy of glory.
As if in answer, the hellish chasm sputters up a fresh tongue of flame. You toss the makeshift club aside and scramble back to the portal. The stitched slave looks up at you with bloody eyelids. In its hands, it holds a shinning golden axe. It lifts the weapon up out of Hell and something like a grin appears behind the bloody stitching.
You grab the axe, hefting it high above your head. It feels weightless, like it was meant to be in your hands. You close your eyes, imagining that you are Avesta, poised to slaughter the Lich King once and for all. You have never felt so alive.
Reveling in the moment, you finally open your eyes. The skeletal warlord is standing in the doorway, staring at you with empty eyes. The only thing between you and the demonic beast that killed Heidi is the portal from whence the creature came.
What do you do?
To hope for the best and jump down the chasm into Hell, turn to page 15.
To leap over the portal and charge the demon, swinging the axe wildly, turn to page 130.