Mistrunner - Chapter 50 - Delving the Rift (Patreon)

Sometimes, I wonder what the future will hold. Then, I remember how everything else in the world turned to shit, and I find myself dreading the calamity coming our way. We cannot win. We can only hope to survive.

Jeremiah Braddock III

I spent the next week mired in monotony as I let my wounds heal. Triage helped. As did my Regeneration ability. And my enhanced constitution as well. The result was that wounds that should’ve taken months to heal did so over the course of a few days. Certainly, I wouldn’t fully recover for weeks more, and the injuries would doubtless scar, but, by the end of that week, I was back to something approaching full strength.

I didn’t spend that time just sitting around, though. In addition to mining the Rift Shards, which I accomplished by prying them free with my dagger, I continued to engage in physical training. It was a painful and grueling process, but without it, I felt sure that I would have to spend even more time working myself back into fighting shape.

I also spent quite a bit of time in thought. More than once, I considered leaving the Rift altogether. I had already done what I’d set out to do, hadn’t I? I’d gotten some experience with Rifts, and I’d dismantled the mining operation. That would mean passing my test, wouldn’t it? But as I sat there, day by day, the door leading deeper into the Rift taunted me. I wanted to know what was on the other side.  I wanted to test myself. The Rift Shards that would be my reward were just a bonus.

Finally, once I was satisfied that I was ready for whatever other challenges the Rift could throw at me, I found myself standing before the door that would lead deeper into the Rift. It was constructed much like the previous two, which meant that it was made of alabaster white wood that had been carved with fanciful whorls that sparkled with red light, which in turn emanated from miniscule slivers of glowing crystal.

As I’d done before, I positioned myself to the side of the door, reached over, and pulled it open. It came ajar with the slightest creek, but the Rift was otherwise deathly silent. My heart thudded in my chest as I peeked out, and I let out a relieved breath when I saw a corridor that was much like the one I’d previously traversed. I stepped out, and remembering not to stand in the “fatal funnel” that was the open doorway, I crouched low. Holding my rifle in a firing position, I crept forward. Heel to toe, I covered the ground with as much alacrity as I dared.

My boots squelched in the gelatinous material of the floor, but I paid it no mind. A mistake, as it turned out, but one I couldn’t predict. However, the moment the smell of burning rubber assaulted my nose, I realized what was happening. With the semi-solid stuff melting the soles of my boots, I had no choice but to turn my creep into a sprint as I hurried to the next door. By that point, my feet were stinging, and the smell of melting flesh joined the aroma of burning rubber. I couldn’t afford caution, so I threw my shoulder into the door and barreled into the next room.

My boots fell apart as I tumbled to the ground. Thankfully, the acidic slime had confined itself to the hall, so I was spared the agony of my body melting. However, what I found was very nearly as troubling, because my tumble soon found open air. I only narrowly managed to jam my hand into a crevice before I was completely lost to the chasm I now saw stretching across the room.

As it was, I dangled there, hanging on by one hand as I looked down at the gaping abyss. I couldn’t see the bottom, and the rocks that had skittered over the edge still hadn’t hit the ground. Perhaps there wasn’t one.

I forced my mind to something approaching placidity, and, with a grunt, hauled myself up on the narrow ledge that abutted the door. It was maybe three feet across, and its twin was at least forty yards away on the other side of the chasm. How I was supposed to cross the space was a mystery, but as I stared at my latest obstacle, I couldn’t help but mutter, “At least there’s not another tentacle monster.”

Of course, the moment I said it, I started looking around for just such a monster. The last thing I wanted was for one of the furry abominations to take me by surprise. I counted myself extremely fortunate that I hadn’t lost my rifle into the abyss. If I had, I knew I would never hear the end of it from my uncle. To say nothing of losing what was probably my most potent weapon.

Seeing that there were no overt threats in the cavernous room, I stowed my rifle and decided to look around. The first thing I noticed was that, in the middle of the gap, another huge hunk of rock floated. It was almost twice as big as the one from the previous room, and the Rift Shards that decorated it were comparably larger than the ones I had tucked away in my Arsenal Implant. Given their size and the impending difficulty in obtaining them, I had to believe that they were that much more valuable than the others.

But even as greed threatened to overtake my mind, I realized that I had absolutely no way of harvesting the valuable shards of crystallized Mist. There was a chance that I could make the twenty-yard jump, but what if I missed? More importantly, what if I made it? I had no illusions about making a similar leap from a standstill. My constitution gave me an incredible edge, but it would be some time before I reached that level of power.

So, I began to look for another way across, fully intending to leave the floating boulder alone. With that in mind, I walked to the closest corner of the room, where I started to inspect the walls. After only a few moments, I found that, like the ledge, the rock that made up the walls was craggy and offered the opportunity for plenty of handholds. Perhaps I could use them to climb across. I grabbed one of the most obvious chunks of jutting rock, but when I put any weight on it, it began to crumble.

“Crap,” I muttered, seeing the chalk-like substance crack and fall away. It was too brittle to support my weight. Maybe if I skittered across the wall like a bug, never stopping, I would be able to make it.

Or maybe the moment I got out over the cavern, it would crumble beneath my hands, and I would fall to my death. There was always that as a possibility.

Sighing, I continued inspecting the ledge and the opposite wall, but I found nothing else of interest. So, as far as I could tell, I had three choices. First, I could head back, my tail between my legs as I admitted that the Rift had beaten me. That option, I discarded almost immediately, partially because I had no desire to, once again, traverse that hall of acidic ooze. But my reticence to retreat was also mired in my competitive nature; I simply didn’t want to admit defeat.

My second option was that I could take a flying leap and hope my enhanced constitution would see me through. This had the added benefit of allowing me to harvest the room’s Rift Shards. And it seemed far more straightforward than the final possibility, which would see me climbing across the wall. It was a risky plan in that, if I stopped moving even for a second, my handholds would crumble and I would fall. Of course, I might fall anyway, regardless of how quickly I moved.

Kneeling next to the ledge, I ran my hand along the boundaries of the chasm, I felt incredibly smooth rock, meaning I couldn’t add another option to the mix. Climbing down to the bottom and then back up on the other side seemed to be an impossibility. Even if there was a bottom, which I doubted.

While I gave it some thought, I sat down, stripped off what was left of my boots, and inspected my feet. They were both better and worse than I expected. On the one hand, the bottoms of my feet were a mass of blisters. But on the other, they were already scabbing over. I knew that it would only take hours before they were completely healed, largely due to my overworked Regeneration ability combined with my constitution.

So, leaning against the wall, I stretched my legs out and enjoyed a tasteless ration bar while I waited on them to heal. As I did, I tossed my ruined boots over the edge. Thankfully, I’d had the presence of mind to pack an extra pair in my Arsenal Implant, though my reasoning didn’t include the possibility of them being destroyed by acidic slime. Instead, I’d brought two sets in case one became soaked through; I could leave one out to dry while wearing the other. But now? Having a replacement set of boots was a godsend.

But it was my last pair, so I knew I’d have to be careful. Yeah – not a great chance of that, especially when I was considering whether I should try a twenty-yard leap of faith or channel my inner spider and scramble across a wall while my handholds crumbled beneath my fingers. So, careful didn’t really seem like it was in the cards.

“I should just go back,” I said to myself, my voice echoing slightly in the cavernous room. Leaning back against the wall, I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but the itching that came along with my healing feet. Finally, after a couple of hours, it all faded away, and I looked down to see that, while they were still red, the blisters had faded away. I just shook my head and said, “God, I’m glad for Regeneration.”

In fact, I was thankful for all the abilities that had come with my [Combat Utility] skill. They were all incredibly useful, and I would’ve been dead a hundred times over without them. Not to mention the effect they had on my training; without Combat Focus, Regeneration, and Pain Tolerance, I wouldn’t have even made it through my Hell Month, much less the more focused training that followed. Not for the first time, I found myself grateful that my uncle had invested so much time and effort into giving me enough power to forge my own path, even I still wasn’t sure what that path might end up being.

But that was a thought for another time. For now, I had a chasm to cross. I should probably admit that I never truly considered heading back. Not when I had a task before me.

So, I chose the wall.

My decision was based on the fact that, after traversing the obstacle course hundreds, if not thousands of times, I felt confident in my climbing ability. And given that I’d survived Nora’s interference, I was pretty sure I could make it across. Of course, pretty sure shouldn’t have been enough to push me into doing it, but I absolutely refused to go back. Not now. So, without further hesitation, I began my climb.

At first, everything went fine. While recovering, I’d taken a few minutes to study the area closest to the ledge, so I had most of the first ten yards mapped out. I knew where to find the best handholds, so it was child’s play to scramble across. However, the issues started to present themselves when I found uncharted territory. Suddenly, I had to spend precious milliseconds searching for my next handhold. Fortunately, I had Observationon my side; without it, there was absolutely no way I could’ve made it. And even with the senses-sharpening ability working at full capacity, I found the handholds crumbling beneath my fingers on more than one occasion.

Sweat beaded on my forehead – not from exertion, but rather from the stress – as I skittered across the wall. Finally, after a little more than a minute of intense focus, I leapt to the ledge on the other side. I sank to my knees, my breath coming in shallow pants as I tried to steady myself against the wall. I was so caught up in it that I never even noticed the ledge crumbling.

Not until it was almost too late.

A crack shattered my brief reverie, and I cast a panicked look in the appropriate direction. That’s when I saw a great chunk of the rocky ledge break free. Combat Focus wrapped itself around my mind, and I was moving before I even fully realized the danger before me. And just before the final bit of the ledge crumbled beneath my feet, I leapt, and, at the last moment, I felt my fingers tighten around the door’s handle.

For the second time in the last few hours, I hung there, my feet dangling over the yawning chasm and my heart in my throat. Gritting my teeth, I hauled myself up until I could get enough leverage to open the door. As it swung outward, something burst through the doorway only to fly into the chasm below. A dozen more shapes followed, moving so quickly that I could only get the vaguest sense of their shape, which was something akin to a rodent, albeit one with glistening, black scales and a size more comparable to a wild dog.

So, I guess they were unholy abominations that weren’t like rodents at all.

Whatever the case, as I hung from that open door, none of them came even close to me. And they certainly couldn’t fly. After a few seconds, during which a hundred of things came sprinting through the door, the deluge petered out, replaced by the oppressive silence I had come to associate with the Rift. Still, I waited for a couple more minutes – hanging from the door wasn’t difficult for me – before I chanced a peek through the doorway.

It opened into a blessedly empty hall, so, after making certain that the floor wasn’t covered in acidic goop, I wrangled myself inside, where I collapsed in a heap.

It was yet another mistake.

The click-clack of tiny, clawed feet was all the warning I had before something slammed into me. I reacted on instinct, grabbing at the missile and digging my fingers into a scaly body. I ripped it free of where it was steadily trying to dig itself through my torso, and tossed it across the corridor where it collided with the wall. I heard bones crunch, and the creature fell to the ground with a mewling hiss.

I didn’t pay it any more attention as I glanced down the corridor to see another wave of the dog-sized lizard-rats screaming toward me. In a brief second, my scattergun was in my hand. I took aim, activated Double-Shot, and fired. Lightning burst forth from the barrel, then arced from one creature to the next. Another pulse, and they skidded to a stop, piling up on one another.

I fired again. And again. Over and over, I sent one pulse of electricity after another through those disgusting, little creatures. After the third or fourth shot, I saw smoke rising from their bodies. I kept going until, at last, my weapon’s ammunition cannister went dry. Mechanically, I switched it out for another, then dismissed my weapon when I didn’t see any further motion.

Still tense, I drew my rifle and crept forward. By the time I reached the pile of lizard-rat corpses, they had begun to disintegrate into Mist, but the smell remained. It was like a mixture of burnt rubber, rancid meat, and hot garbage, all rolled into one, and it was all I could do not to gag as I picked my way past them.

When I drew within ten yards of the door, it flew open, and another cascade of monstrous reptilian rodents came pouring out. I didn’t hesitate to open fire on full auto, cutting down the first wave with my first magazine. Rather than reload, I exchanged it for my scattergun and repeated my previous strategy; the rest of the monsters were dead within two pulses.

The door slammed shut of its own accord, sending a chill up my spine.

I could easily see the pattern. Once every minute, the door would open, and a bunch of monsters would come screaming out, which meant I only had a few seconds before the Rift tried to overwhelm me again. And I wasn’t going to let that happen. In fact, I had a surprise for whatever was on the other side of that door.

I was tired. I was in pain. And, more than anything, I really didn’t want to get up close and personal with those monstrous lizard rats. So, I strode toward the door, planted myself on the side, and summoned my trump card.

It was a device of my own making. An end-of-training project, in a lot of ways. It looked a lot like a soda can, only it wasn’t covered in a garish logo, and it didn’t sport some impossibly buxom mascot. Instead, it was all business. More importantly, it was filled to the brim with an explosive compound that would, when detonated, fill a hundred-foot radius with scorching plasma.

Reaching over, I opened the door with one hand while pressing the grenade’s timer with another. Then, I tossed it inside before slamming the door shut once again. I just had time to pull my hand back before an explosion shook the entire Rift, blowing the door from its hinges and filling half the hall with liquid flames.

For my part, I held my head in my hands as I squeezed my eyes shut against the heat. Even so, I could feel my skin blistering with the rapid rise in temperature. But it was nothing to what the next room’s denizens felt.

Hundreds of agonized screams filled the air as, presumably, an entire room’s worth of those hideous creatures burned alive. What’s more, a different sound soon joined the cacophony, but where the others were high-pitched whines and hisses, this one was a deep basso rumbling that rattled my bones.

As soon as I felt the fire die down, I summoned my rifle and slipped into the room. What I saw was a massacre of smoking corpses. Hundreds, if not thousands, of the creatures were dead, piled high in heaps of broiled flesh. But my eyes were immediately drawn to a bigger, still moving figure on the other side of the room.

I commanded the Kicker into its sniper configuration, took aim, then used Empowered Shot before squeezing the trigger. The bullet took the creature, which was a bear-sized version of the other monsters, in the shoulder. It would’ve been a headshot, but the thing twitched to the side at the last second. Still, the shot was rewarded with a fountain of blood, scales, and meaty flesh.

I repeated the process, but once again, I missed my intended target. My shot skidded off its broad back, taking a hunk of muscle with it. That’s when the monster’s eyes found me.

It charged, its claws digging into the ground as it covered the ground with enviable alacrity. I fired again, but the bullet went wide, thudding into the faraway wall. As it drew closer, I dove to the side, reconfiguring my weapon into the assault rifle mode, and by the time I rolled back to my feet, I was already firing.

Each burst found a home in the monster’s thick, scaled body, but it didn’t seem injured. In fact, if anything, it appeared even more formidable. A red mist burst forth from its hide, and it turned to face me. Its eyes, of which there were six, all glowed in a similar hue. Its jaw hung open, revealing multiple rows of sharp, triangular teeth. Its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air.

I fired again.

The creature blurred, avoiding my burst of fire altogether, then, before I could react, it was on top of me. I screamed as it bit down on my shoulder, its teeth ripping through my flesh with ease. My fingers spasmed, and my weapon clattered to the ground. But Combat Focus wouldn’t let me panic.

Activating Combination Punch, I hammered my fist into the monster’s head. Once. Twice. Three times. It yanked, trying to pull away, but I hit it again. Bones cracked beneath my fist, and the creature released me. It skittered away, and I collapsed to the ground. Its bite had gone deep, severing tendons and ripping muscles; I couldn’t move my right arm, and I was bleeding profusely. If I let the monster escape, it would only return once I’d weakened enough that I couldn’t resist.

As it retreated, I used Engage, and moved so quickly that it was almost a teleport. My fist, again powered by Combination Punch, found a home on its skull. It reared, but its momentum sent it rocketing into the wall. I followed with dogged determination, aiming a second punch at its injured skull.

In a last-ditch effort, it raked its claws at me, but I took the blow without flinching. Even as its claws scraped across my ribs, ripping the flesh from my torso, another punch landed. Then another. And another after that. Each one dazed it further until, at last, it began to spasm as the damage overwhelmed its brain.

I kept going.

Screaming with primal rage, I continued to rain one punch after another into the monster’s crushed skull. I didn’t stop until its head had turned to mush and the Mist had already begun its reclamation process.

Finally, I sagged against the floor, the weight of my injuries overwhelming my rage until, at last, I let myself collapse. Dimly, I tried to summon medical supplies to treat my injuries, but the combination of the exhaustion as well as the blood loss had already darkened my vision. Unconsciousness, I knew, was on the horizon. So, I summoned a med-hypo, jammed it into my thigh, and depressed the pneumatic plunger. It hissed as it delivered its medicated payload, and just before I surrendered to unconsciousness, I had the presence of mind to hope that it would be enough to stave off any infection until I awoke.

Just before I fell asleep, though, one thought skittered through my mind.

I had won. I had lived. And that fearsome monster had died. That was something, at least.