Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Distortion Manifests (Patreon)

As soon as Antoine, Kimberly, and Camden got to Room 347, Antoine found another stairwell like the one we had used earlier. At least we had that success.

The Mercers had found a staircase too, one that would lead them and the Distortion straight to us.

“The Mercers are on their way up,” Anna said. “We need to finish here. How do we stop HQ from locking us in the building remotely?”

“In order to sever the remote override, I'm going to have to reboot the system," I said, "That should give us the time we need to get up there with the others and get out.”

I was really going out on a limb with that. I had no tropes that guaranteed my planned "reboot" would work. But I did have two things going for me.

First, I had spent plenty of points and Moxie and Savvy for my level—perhaps even more than I should have. They would help me with improvising plot elements and planning.

Second, my character was supposed to have a lot of experience as a security surveillance specialist. It made sense that he would know how to undo a remote override.

All I needed was for Carousel to play along. I had never actually done pure improvisation like that before. The veterans did it all the time. I had to hope it would work.

“Do you need me for that?” Anna asked.

I had no idea. I was just going to look for a big switch.

“I need to find the right panel,” I said.

Logically, I should be able to reboot it from within this room. I searched behind the servers and the computers until I found it: a prominent switch that said “System Reboot,” in small text.

It looked like Carousel was playing along.

“Here goes nothing,” I said with a deep breath.

I flipped the switch. All of the lights in the room went off. Some emergency lights came on in a dull red.

“One...Two…Three…Four…Five,” I counted under my breath, hoping that the added wait time would add tension to my actions and make the performance better.

Then I flipped the switch back on.

The lights didn't come back on, but one of the terminals did. I went over to it.

“Begin reboot sequence?” Flashed on the screen.

I typed, “Y.” into the keyboard.

The screen started to dance with letters and numbers as something started to happen behind the scenes.

Then I got a message instructing me on how to finish the reboot. Essentially, I would have to go around five of the terminals in the room and run through some code. It was busy work. It was Carousel pushing back against my reboot idea.

“I'm going to have to reboot the system sequentially,” I said. I looked at Anna. “This is going to take too long. You need to go. Run south until you hit the western corridor and then continue west until you get to the corner. I should have it back online in time to guide you the rest of the way.”

“No,” Anna said. “That wasn't the plan. We were both supposed to go.”

“I'll be right behind you,” I said. “Once I get the monitors back online I can guide you around upstairs to the best places to look for the exit. Then I'll meet you up there.”

She didn’t believe me.

“I can stay here with you,” Anna said. “We can go together. If that thing comes back… You don't have to try to be a hero.”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “Now go. We don't have much time.”

She hugged me and then slowly turned and ran away guided by the red blinking emergency lights.

I quickly set myself on the task of rebooting the system. It wasn't too taxing. In fact, it mostly involved typing a bunch of stuff and answering a bunch of prompts at different terminals around the room. It was a time suck, but if I was going to disable remote override, an enormously helpful feat, I had to earn it.

There's no free lunch in a horror movie unless you're a zombie.

Eventually, I finished it.

The system came back on, bringing back the lights and security monitors. Luckily the Mercers had gotten scared when the lights went off and had slowed down on their ascent up the stairwell.

I looked at the monitors and found that Anna was most of the way to the southwest corner.

I flipped on the microphone and said, “Keep going; you've got a left up ahead and that should bring you to Room 347.”

“Is everything alright?” Anna yelled.

“Everything's looking good for now. It should take HQ a while to reestablish the override.”

I saw on the monitors that Dina and her family were already up on the floor with us and were searching around for an exit. I thought about what I should do.

Bringing even three of the Mercers near my friends spelled doom, but Dina seemed certain.

The question was, did I trust her?

“The exit to the floor above is in Room 347,” I said over the speaker to the room Dina was in.

She had better have been right.

~~~

Right on time, the Distortion reappeared.

It was too close. There were no lockable doors between me and it. The Mercers were much closer than they had been before, and it had manifested less than 100 yards away from me.

Did I stay and help guide my friends for just a little longer as they looked for the exit, or did I run behind them hoping to survive through a few more scenes?

The needle on the plot cycle was almost upon Second Blood.

“Keep going straight Antoine,” I said into the microphone. “There's something that's labeled ‘Depot’. Check there. It's near the main elevator shaft so there might be a stairwell nearby.”

“Anna, take a left and you should intersect with the others in a few minutes.”

The Distortion was drawing closer. It didn't seem to have locked onto my presence yet, but I could see that it was searching.

I scanned over the monitors looking for some sign, any sign, of an exit so that my friends could get out.

“The northwest corner looks promising,” I said. “The way it's built mirrors the setup for the stairwell that was in the laboratories. Check there next.”

The Distortion was close. Any moment it would cut off my path to rejoin my friends.

Anna met up with the others upstairs. She and Kimberly hugged.

It was too late. My choice had been made.

I flipped on all of the switches for the speakers in the areas where my friends were, as well as those where Dina and her family were. I turned the knob on the microphone input to increase sensitivity.

I wouldn't have long after the creature arrived. I would need to tell them what it was I saw.

My Moxie jumped up five points.

It took me by surprise. What could have caused it? There was only one answer: my Raised by Television trope.

But that created more questions than it did answers. That trope was supposed to assist me in doing something heroic and larger than life. My character putting his life at risk to save his family certainly qualified, but why would I get Moxie?

I needed Mettle!

I needed Grit!

Heck, I would even take Savvy.

Why had I been given Moxie of all things? Would Moxie help me… distract the creature perhaps?

I felt a heavy weight go over my mind. My Infected status lit up on the red wallpaper.

It was happening. I was a host to the Distortion. It was far more powerful than it had been. It was still a couple of rooms away.

I didn't have long.

I started to breathe hard from fear.

Of all things for it to give me, why Moxie? What a stupid trope.

Was it giving me Moxie so that Oblivious Bystander would work better? That didn't seem correct. I was literally looking at it on the screen; there was no way I could pretend to be oblivious. I would know exactly when it entered the room. I didn't know if that trope would even work on the Distortion anyway.

Besides, that wasn't even my plan.

But what was my plan? To die quickly and painlessly?

Or did I intend to fight?

A sudden revelation burst into my mind. Psychic tropes were performative and Moxie-based. The distortion was a psychic manifestation. My character had psychic abilities.

Of course!

“I get this feeling... I can't explain it... I don't think that we can fight this thing with weapons, not with guns or anything like that. That’s why the others died. I think we have to fight it with our hearts, our minds,” I said aloud over the intercom. My voice had begun to shake, and I could feel tears forming in my eyes from fear. “What was it the grandma used to say about her gift? That she had moxie—strength of spirit? She said that was why she was special. I used to think she was just making a joke. I think that's how we can fight it.”

One last prediction before I was gone.

I theorized that this creature was fought with Moxie, with psychic power.

The weight on my mind got heavier like my head was in a vice grip.

It was behind me.

“I’ll try to hold it off,” I said.

“Riley!” Anna and Kimberly screamed over the speakers.

I had to look at it. Otherwise, I would be useless to them. I had to see its tropes.

I turned around.

The room was no longer empty, no longer merely a graveyard of slain KRSL employees. The room was full of people, or should I say, shadows of people.

There were at least thirty of them. They were gray in color. They stood, spread around the room everywhere I looked.

None of them made eye contact with me or acknowledged me in any way. They looked sad and lost. I didn’t recognize most of them, but there were some that shone brighter, that moved faster, that looked livelier. I knew who those few were.

The Mercers.

The very same Mercers that were now exploring Floor 3B aimlessly on the security monitors. Somehow, they were in the room with me too. They looked distracted, completely unaware of their presence.

The others, the more faded people, were more solemn. They stared off in the distance, not saying a word. I say they stared, but their eyes were dark. I couldn’t see where they were looking.

On the red wallpaper, I could see what they were and who they were.

Cosmo Mercer (Shade).

Silvia Mercer (Shade).

Eloise Mercer (Shade). Eloise… The Matriarch of the Mercer family. She had died a hundred years earlier.

They were ghosts…no… lesser than ghosts. Shades. They were remnants, the final psychic reflections of the deceased Mercers. Even the live Mercers’ reflections were called Shades on the red wallpaper.

None of them had any Plot Armor. None of them appeared to be enemies. They were still NPCs.

If these were not classed as enemies, what was it that went on a rampage the night before?

These ghoulish apparitions were terrifying, but how could they kill anything?

“It’s the Mercers,” I said aloud. “The Mercers… spirits or something. The living and the dead. They’re all here.”

I felt the strain on my mind get heavier.

“Wait… no. There is something else here too!” I screamed.

It stood in the center of them all, forming out of thin air. Unlike the Mercers, which were made of smoke and shadow, this creature was solid. I could hear scratches on the floor underneath it from its claws. Its large claws. The more I focused on them, the longer and sharper they became.

I looked up at it. I needed to see its face.

It had intelligent black eyes and sharp teeth. It was almost a man at first glance, but it shifted as I looked at it. I couldn’t see it properly despite it standing right in front of me. It might have been a demon; its skin was like flowing silk and its form was irregular and changing.

Wherever I looked, the more detail I saw. When I looked at its torso, its body formed into a solid. When I looked at its arms, they became solid too. It was like… it was forming as my mind shaped it into existence. It was using my mind to corporealize, after all.

A cloak draped down over its arms, but the cloak wasn't fabric. It was an organic flowing darkness.

I could feel its anger, its rage.

“It’s some sort of demon… a nightmare,” I said. But I knew that wasn’t correct. It was the closest thing I could come up with to describe it. Its name on the red wallpaper might not be as descriptive.

~

The Mercer Poltergeist

Plot Armor: 30

__________

Tropes:

A Knock at the Door

This enemy can target characters behind closed doors, turning a symbol of safety into a source of dread. It may be able to lure characters out with deceptive sounds or eerie silence, manipulating their fear and curiosity, or it may be able to simply break or sneak through such barriers. With "A Knock at the Door", death is just a room away.

Anyone Can Die

This enemy operates under a chilling rule: no character is safe. Whether it's because this film is a rule-breaking reboot or a narrative without a true protagonist, this enemy can target or kill any character without ceremony or hesitation. With "Anyone Can Die...", the only main characters are the ones who survive.

Shy

This enemy lurks in the shadows, its presence more hinted at than revealed. Leaving subtle signs of its existence, the enemy builds suspense and unease. Its reluctance to emerge may be strategic, logistical, or simply a preference for the shadows. But when it finally steps into the light, the impact is all the more chilling.

Protector

This enemy is driven by a singular purpose: to safeguard something precious, be it an object, a secret, or a person. The enemy will stop at nothing to ensure its charge remains undisturbed. Its actions blur the line between hero and villain, as it may resort to violence to fulfill its duty. Cross its path uninvited, and you invite danger, for the Protector will shed any amount of blood to keep its charge safe.

Jekyll and Hyde

The enemy has multiple forms…

Vigilant: Savvy, Moxie = 2

Disturbance: Savvy, Moxie = 3

Potent: Savvy, Moxie = 5

Corporeal: Savvy, Moxie = 7

External Power Source

This enemy's strength is not its own but borrowed from an external entity or object. The enemy is formidable, but its power comes with a vulnerability: without its source, it is defenseless. Whether it's a mystical artifact, a cosmic entity, or a technological marvel, severing the connection could mean the enemy's downfall.

Spiritual Warfare

This enemy exists beyond the realm of the physical, immune to conventional attacks. The enemy might be challenged by psychic, mental, or spiritual combat depending on the narrative. Its battles are waged not on battlefields, but in minds and souls, turning inner strength and resilience into the ultimate weapons. To defeat it, one must engage in a different kind of warfare, where willpower, wisdom, and inner peace are the true armaments.

~

Poltergeists were usually depicted as being ghostly in movies, but sometimes they were manifestations of unconscious psychic energy--just like this one.

“I can feel it. It’s linked to my mind,” I said. “It wants to protect the Mercers. It thinks we are hurting them,” I yelled so that the microphone could pick it up. “It needs them to exist… without them, it would disappear.”

No wonder KRSL brought us in as fake employees. It wanted to trick the creature into thinking we were the Mercers’ captors. Otherwise, it might not go after us and their experiment wouldn’t work.

“I don't mean you any harm,” I said. “I can help you and your family leave. You don't have to do this.”

It did appear to understand what I had said, but it was not persuaded in the least. The fact that I was wearing a KRSL uniform was probably working against me.

It jumped at me. One swipe of its claw and I would be dead or mutilated. I had hardly any Grit to speak of.

But I did have some Hustle.

I jumped out of the way of its claws, barely dodging it. I grabbed a stapler off a desk and threw it at the creature's head. I made contact but it didn't appear to have done any damage.

That attack used Mettle; I needed an attack that used Moxie… what would that look like?

I went with the traditional route.

I started to think in my mind, “You aren't real, you aren't real.”

That would work in some movies.

It swiped a claw at me. I tried dodging again but this one grazed my sweater and drew blood from my arm.

It was real.

I needed to figure this out or it would all be useless.

I held out my hands and used them to block its large razor-sharp claws from my vision.

“You can't hurt me,” I said timidly.

Something was happening. Not much, but something.

“You can't hurt me,” I said again more forcefully.

It lunged and as it did, I noticed that its arms were made of smoke and shadow again just as they had been when it first appeared before I got a look at them.

I managed to back away. I put my hands back up to help block my view of the creature. Its corporeal form relied on my observation. I had no way of telling if this was working but I thought my efforts might have been weakening the creature.

It swiped another claw at me. They were smaller now, less fully formed, but they were still razor sharp. Its claw collided with my left hand and cleanly sliced off three of my fingers.

I screamed in pain.

It was difficult to think. Fear and the weight of the poltergeist's tether were making me tired. I hadn't slept in 20 hours. I couldn't keep this up forever.

Don’t suffer in silence!

I remembered Lara's warning, her psychic blessing in the form of four words: don't suffer in silence. I had to tell them what was happening.

“Don’t picture it in your mind! Don’t look at its claws or teeth,” I yelled. “It needs us to see it to exist!”

I didn't know how its other forms worked but its corporeal form relied on the power of a psychic person's imagination. I was going to deny it that.

I put my injured hand back up in front of my eyes so that I couldn't view the creature directly, but I could still see the outline of it around my bloody hand.

It struck again. It clawed me in the arm. Its attack was far less dangerous, but I only had one Grit. It cut me to the bone. I could no longer use that hand to block it out

As I blocked out the creature in my mind, I could still see the faded shades of the Mercer family in the room. They didn't appear to even know what was happening. I realized that this movie was about family. The Mercer family, gifted to create this violent protector. Dina and her husband and children. My character's family, Anna and Kimberly…

I finally figured out why Kimberly’s Pregnancy Reveal had been so effective…

The creature slashed again opening up my stomach.

I was too weak to continue my psychic assaults. Besides, even if I could weaken it, I couldn't kill it...

Family.

This movie was about family. Kimberly having a child to pass on her gift fit the theme of the movie. That was why Pregnancy Reveal worked so well. We weren't just fighting to survive. We were fighting so that our family could survive, no different than this poltergeist was fighting for the Mercers.

“Protect Kimberly,” I yelled through the pain. “Protect her kid.”

The story worked better when you played your role.

I summoned one last burst of energy and charged the poltergeist.

“I won’t let you hurt them!” I screamed.

As I did, I grabbed at the creature’s face with my one good hand and did my best to channel whatever psychic power my character had left into it as I tore at its flesh, its eye. I think I might have actually done some damage.

It bit my throat.

I don’t remember what happened after that, but as I faded away, I saw on the plot cycle, the needle turned to Second Blood.