Chapter 31 (Patreon)

This is the farthest chapter I have that I'm comfortable sharing. So we're not quite two-weeks ahead of the curve, but we'll get there soon. Again, the editing on these my by abysmal. I apologize in advance for that. 

Brandon and crew were still bringing people into the safe room as the next episode premiered. 

Right when the show started, the timer finally ran out. The world rumbled, and the ground under my feet shook. The shaking lasted but a second. I stopped and gazed at the number on the television screen. It flashed, going from just over two million to 1,292,526.

More people had made it down to the next level than I expected. Still, those numbers. Those goddamned numbers. I wished we didn’t have to look at them. In that brief moment as I helped push a woman—her name was Rondice McGibbons—in a wheelchair into the storm shelter, over 700,000 people died. A third of the remaining crawlers. The first floor had claimed a little more than 10 million people. 

“Thank you, honey,” the woman said as I rolled her to the others. “Can you put Divorce Court on the television? My Barry used to watch that show. It reminds me of him.” 

“I don’t think that show is on anymore, Mrs. McGibbons,” I said. 

“That’s okay,” she said.

Above the number with the remaining crawlers, the countdown to level collapse blinked a few times then reset. Six days and counting. 

“Six days?” Brandon said, coming to stand beside me. “Mistress Tiatha had said it would be ten.” 

“Yeah, our guy said the same thing,” I said. “At least we know where the stairs are this time.” 

As the scenes of carnage played out on the television—they were showing a man and a woman running from a three-headed baboon—I took stock of the room. 

We’d only gained six more residents from the Waffle House safe room, meaning 24 of them had elected to stay behind. I thought about that for a moment. Good for them, I decided. They’d gained a modicum of control in those last few moments. They went out on their own terms. Brandon said they’d all been singing when he’d last seen them.  

Agatha remained missing. Chris sat in the corner, his head low. He might’ve been crying. I wanted to give the man space. Imani and Yolanda worked their way around the residents. Yolanda helped them to the bathrooms while Imani handed out crawler biscuits.

Donut paced the floor in front of the television screen, waiting for the second half of the program. We wouldn’t be able to watch Odette’s show, and we still didn’t know if we’d get any airtime on the main program.    

“After everyone sleeps, I was hoping to get your help with something,” Brandon said. 

I already knew what he was going to ask. 

“You’re going to send them all down the stairs to the third floor early.” 

“Yes,” he said. “They can’t train, so there’s no point in keeping them here.” 

“What about you?” I asked. “Your levels need work.” 

He shook his head. “We talked about it. All of us are going to go down. We’ll take our chances on the third floor. We don’t want to risk getting separated.” 

On the screen, a woman screamed as her arm was bitten off by a monster that looked like an eggplant with teeth.  

“We’ll scout the way and clear it out for you,” I said. 

“Thank you,” Brandon said. 

“Did you get anything good in your boss box?” I asked. He now had a bright, silver star next to his name in the interface, along with the rest of us. 

He grinned. “I got a magic boomerang. Chris got some book of the club thing. Imani doesn’t tell us what she gets, and Yolanda received a new type of quiver.” 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about Agatha,” I said. 

“Everyone, quiet! Quiet!” Donut called. “It’s time for the good part!” 

The screen focused on that group of men from Africa. Their party name was “Le Mouvement.” They’d gone from 150 to about 80 after some internal strife. Several of the members sported skulls by their avatars now. 

Lucia Mar and her dogs had obliterated a nest of brown, shaggy monsters before descending the stairs. I knew right afterward, she’d been whisked away to appear on Odette’s show just before us, where one of her dogs had attacked a producer. The woman with the Valkyrie helmet had teamed up with a group of three more women. This worked together to kill a yeti caterpillar borough boss thing before using the stairs to descend. 

And just like that, there we were. 

Beside me, Donut gasped as we appeared. We were on screen for less than 15 seconds. The program was playing scenes from multiple groups and crawlers, rapid-fire, all of them fighting bosses or running toward the stairs at the timer ran down. I knew some of these scenes must have played out just thirty minutes earlier. 

It showed us huddled underneath the redoubt as Donut screamed, “Here it comes.” 

The view changed to the ball of swine rolling up the ramp, getting stuck. It moved back inside our miniature fort as the brace broke and smashed Yolanda in the head. It showed the ball break apart, and then it cut to Donut screaming as she fired magic missiles point-blank into the tusklings. It ended with Imani making a sour face as she dropped the strap-on dildo on the floor. 

All of our mugshots appeared on the screen. A moment, later, the show moved onto another group. 

“Agatha’s mugshot wasn’t up,” Yolanda said. “Does that mean she’s dead?” 

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” I said, my voice grim. There was no way the crazy old woman could survive down here on her own. Nobody had said it out loud yet, but I knew we were all thinking it. 

“No,” Chris said. Brandon’s older brother had a deeper voice, and it surprised me when he spoke. This was only the second time I’d heard him speak. “There’s more to it. She was edited out of the scene. She was next to me under the speedbump, but she wasn’t there when they showed it.” 

“Oh yeah,” Brandon said. “Weird.” 

What did that mean? 

Donut was ignoring all of this as she hopped up and down. “Two shows in one day, Carl. Two shows! Maybe there is more, too. Do you think we’re on more shows?” 

I sighed. “Donut. You need to stop obsessing over this. It’s going to get us killed.” 

“I’m not obsessing,” she said. “What makes you think I’ve been obsessing?” 

“People like you because of what you’ve been doing,” I said. “If you start playing for the camera, they’re going to like you less. And if you die, you won’t be remembered at all. So try not to think about it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carl,” she said. 

The show wrapped up. And a moment later, the announcement rattled through the storm shelter. 

Hello crawlers. 

Welcome to the second floor. Congratulations to all of you. We have just under 1.3 million crawlers still in the game. That number is slightly lower than our projections, so we are speeding up the second floor timer to the minimum legally allowed by the rules. You have six days to find a staircase down. Once again, we urge you all to wait until the last possible moment to descend. 

As soon as this announcement ends, you will find that follows and favorites will be turned on for our viewers. The numbers will populate slowly on your interface, so don’t be too disappointed if you don’t see anything just yet. 

We have improved how patronage works this season. This is a major change, so please pay attention. 

All crawlers are now limited to three patrons, and all three spots will be up for auction for one day immediately upon the induction of the fourth floor, then fifth, then sixth floors respectively. Your benefactors may so choose to transfer your patronage to other parties at their own discretion starting on the seventh floor.

All patronage spots will become available at a bid of one credit, meaning this season virtually all living crawlers will have patrons. 

But, be warned. Any bids the patron pays above the standard patronage fee will be reflected in loot box discounts for that patron. Any funds below the fee will be reflected in additional costs to that patron for loot boxes. In other words, the more your patron pays for you, the more and higher-quality Benefactor Boxes you may receive. The higher your social numbers, the better your chances at receiving the best loot. Your tutorial guide should have more details and will help you if you have any additional questions. 

Finally, we must say we are disappointed in the disrespect we are being shown regarding the bathrooms. As of this moment, if any human-born crawler intentionally urinates or craps anywhere outside a designated bathroom area, they will be immediately and swiftly penalized in the form of a Rage Elemental plucked from the 13th floor. This elemental will kill them and everyone in their party before they can get their cocks or pussies tucked away.

That’s it for tonight. Have fun out there, and remember to kill, kill, kill!

Brandon turned to Yolanda. “You better tell Jack not to pee in the hallways anymore.” 

Yolanda had gone pale. I hadn’t even realized that this was a problem. Jack was one of the guys who used a walker, not a wheelchair. He wore a Cincinnati Bengals hat and was always poking at the female residents, saying “You still alive, Marybeth?” None of them were named Marybeth.     

“I have a few diapers left. I’ll make sure he puts it on,” Yolanda said.  

“Carl, Carl! I have a follower! My first follower!” Donut cried. “Another! A view! I have a view!” 

“Yeah,” I said. “You know that viewer is watching you right now. So maybe you should stop acting crazy. We talked about this.” 

Donut momentarily stiffened, her eyes going wide. “You’re right,” she said. She sat down and licked her paw, suddenly looking nonchalant. “That was quite the battle today, don’t you think, Carl?” 

She said this in a weird, stilted, I’m-trying-to-act-casual-but-I’m-not-very-good-at-acting voice.

I sighed, and it took everything not to say my catchphrase out loud. She’s going to get used to it. It’s new, so you gotta give her time. After Odette’s show finished airing, I knew those numbers were going to skyrocket. 

This was going to be a long night.