LAST RESORT

Part 14

I was amused when Henry assigned the room at the top of the tower as Wendy’s, like she’s some Disney princess exiled by her angry, jealous stepmother. It was for her own good. She needed to recover away from the others after just drinking half a pint of the duke’s blood.

She was in pain: shivering, moaning, and curled up in a fetal position on the grass, clutching her belly as if she had just been shot. It made me glad I’m no longer mortal.

“Each night you will drink from mine,” Henry said to her. “You will feed on me thrice, and I, on you, twice. Then, I will snap your neck. Do not be afraid when this happens, for you will return good as new! If you prefer other methods, we can discuss it later. But know that you must die to complete this process. Now to become my spawn, you must feed on the blood of the living after you’ve awakened, which I will provide to you when that time comes. And then, my dear Wendy, you will be my beautiful spawn.”

Wendy, dizzy and still weak, said nothing but nodded before passing out on the lawn. She’s going to be out for a couple of days, I reckon.

Demon Jessica, Roy, and Goliath dragged, carried, and chained Wendy to the lone room in the tower’s highest reaches, which was the entire top floor. The werewolves just watched from the sidelines with a cold can of beer and smoked some cigarettes by their truck parked outside the lawn. Henry made sure to lock the balcony just in case Wendy changed her mind later and decided to…well…use the alternative route down. According to Demon, it was quite common for spawns (and all infected minions, really) to change their minds halfway through “the turning” in other worlds. She complained about the flaky nature of mortal morality and how she wished the gods had never invented it in the first place. A tiny piece of Wendy’s humanity still lived inside her, slowly dissolved by Henry’s blood as time went on like acid.

“I’m not looking forward to her whining about how everything hurts and how she wishes she’d just die already,” Jessica sighed. “Oh, if only.”

Unfortunately for Wendy, once the process of vampirism began, it was irreversible. The only way out was death. Permanently.

And I already collected her essence. She is succumbing to Henry’s will. And mine.

The chains were there so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. It also prevented her from hunting prematurely. Juvenile vampire spawns still inherited the typical bloodlust all vampires were famous for, but compared to a True Vampire, their hunger shot up into manic overdrive, very unpredictable, and the results were often violent and messy. Perhaps even more violent than what Henry displayed earlier when he killed Jared. For the safety of the other wandering mortals who happened to stumble upon my dungeon outside of the scenarios, Wendy would stay chained inside the room until she learned to control her hunger and how to be a vampire.

And she can still be killed. Don’t forget that part, I thought.

The System considered spawns as minions. Cannon-fodder, more like. Though they inherited a fraction of the vampire’s strengths and constitution, a typical four-party team of delvers could overpower her easily, though not before she would put up a damn good fight, maybe took one of them down in the process, or severely injured them, which I was counting on. I’ve noticed that Resolve dropped pretty damn fast when delvers were wounded. Not everything in this dungeon was made to be a cakewalk, and the System wouldn’t allow me to give preferences.

Although it wouldn’t be able to stop me from tailoring a scenario into “easy” mode, if such an occasion called for it.

Apparently, minions were the standard inhabitants for dungeons across the universe, which Demon Jessica and Henry were kind enough to explain. In the context of a video game, I had been creating the big lair bosses (the archetypes) ever since I started, but I never added the minions that served under them. Though not all archetypes required minions. Goliath certainly didn’t need one, and I didn’t think he’d want to have one anyway.

“Delvers can’t always encounter the bosses in every room they enter, my lord. That’s just basic dungeon design,” Demon said. “You have to give them something easy to kill in between the boss fights, like Roy over here.”

Roy jumped a little from hearing his name, but refused to look at me. Ever since he became aware of my presence (though not truly understanding what I am and my nature), we have only made “eye contact” twice. I thought it was very rude of him, but I reckoned he was still getting used to me. If I were in his shoes, realizing that the vampire he had been running away from served a much powerful being was certainly a mind-fuck moment, and his mind was struggling to grapple with a mini-existential crisis. So, I’m taking it easy on him tonight.

Demon added, “But you are a Death Core, so you play by different rules. Earth certainly has its…charms and quirks: a world without adventurers or guilds. This is your domain after all, and I adhere to your decisions, whatever that may be.” Demon frowned. “But Roy is no goblin or mephilite.”

“What’s a mephilite?” I asked.

“Imagine a human baby’s head, ONLY the head, but with devil horns and bat-like wings protruding at the back of their skull, and they shoot fire lasers out of their gibbering mouths as they chase delvers around the corridors of a dungeon. Not very deadly, but they hurt like ass on a stick. Though just like a swarm of bees will kill you, they can, too. Eventually.”

I blinked, processing what she just said to me. “That’s…um, new.”

“Oh, don’t you ever think about inviting them down here. I like my peace and quiet, and they cry a lot. I already have to deal with Wendy whining for the next week while she completes her turning.”

“Personally, I’d hate to have baby monsters running around the dungeon,” Henry said. “I don’t have an affinity for smelly toddlers and spoiled children. They annoy me.”

“Aren’t you the one having a spawn?” Demon asked.

“She’s a grown woman.”

“How do you kill a vampire spawn anyway?” I asked Henry. “Besides the stake and sunlight that you can die from. I’m assuming Wendy can, too. Is there anything else different? Something we should watch out for? She can die permanently, you know. I’d hate for all that effort to go to waste.”

“Eh. That’s what she is made for. No hurt feelings, my lord,” Henry said.

Demon perked up. “Oh, is that why you turned her? For that waitress?”

“Not just her. Sheila is a good friend of hers. Imagine how her Resolve will dissipate when she sees Wendy when they come by the manor during their delve.”

Demon’s eyes lit up. “And imagine the drama from having to kill her. Oh, Duke. You’re bad.”

Duke tried to hide his grin. He paused for a moment, thinking while watching Goliath put the final cuff around Wendy’s left ankle. She was sprawled across the bed, sound asleep. “Spawns can die the same as any mortal creature, my lord. Separating the head from the body should do it. Total immolation, too. No matter how fast her healing regeneration is, fire and decapitation cannot save her.”

“But…that doesn’t kill you.”

Henry smiled mischievously. “No, but it will piss me off.”

We gathered again at the dining room to finish eating all the food I conjured for one crystal. I’ve already received the prompt from the Immaran guild, rewarding me for tonight’s efforts, but it was nice to see all my archetypes unwind and relax around the table. Except for Roy, who stood there at the corner, horrified, and looked like he was about to cry or bolt out the door at any moment. Henry and the werewolves invited him to join them at the table, pulling a seat between Duke and Alan, which he shakily accepted. I never once saw him eat any of the food that Demon placed in front of him.

“We could have helped, you know,” Alan said to Henry in between bites of the massive roasted turkey leg in his left hand. “Make it exciting for good ol’ Roy over here, chasing him around the hallways. You never know. My brothers will give him a one-of-a-kind workout!” Alan smacked Roy on the back and laughed. Bits of the turkey flew out of his mouth and across the table.

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Roy trembled and sank into his seat, wanting to just vanish right there. All the archetypes were now watching him curiously.

Henry shrugged and plucked out a piece of the turkey that landed on the back of his hand. “Well, a little mind game spices up things. I had fun. Made it last longer.”

“Me, too,” Demon said. “You should have seen the look on your face, Roy. It was delicious watching you all argue, but I was a bit sad that you didn’t pick me. I guess I’m just too spicy for you.”

“It’s not a bad idea, you know,” I said. They all turned to me. “I mean, there are a lot of you now, and I’m adding more archetypes in the future as well as potential minions. Our home is growing every day, inch by inch. By the end of next year, we’ll own close to half of the mountainside. Maybe in three or four years, the dungeon’s borders will reach Point Hope’s town limits. In seven years, all of Point Hope itself. But I still want to remain hidden as long as possible.”

“How long will that last, my lord?” Demon asked.

“I know I can’t stay hidden forever. Two years, give or take. Maybe three. I’m growing exponentially, and that attracts attention. Once you’re big enough, the people we don’t want will start to notice.”

“That depends on how many delvers you feed on,” Oracle said. “We still need four hundred and sixty-two essences to convert it into fifty expansion points and create the second dungeon in New York.”

“I have a plan. In the next three years, we will be feeding only on a small group of delvers per scenario. That maintains our semblance of anonymity.”

“But how small are we talking here?” Alan asked.

“Three at minimum. Twelve max,” I said. “Because of this, I’ll adopt Henry’s idea of letting them choose their hunter. The rest of you can stay in your lairs, where you can hunt them if they stumble into your domain. I didn’t really assign any of you a specific lair. You kinda chose it on your own, which makes it easier for me to set the boundaries. Except for the demon.”

“I like the woods. And the mansion. And the lake. And the farmhouse. I’m a free spirit kind of gal,” Demon said cheekily.

“Well, do you have any favorites?”

“All of them are. I love this place, my lord,” Demon said excitedly. “It beats staying down there, for sure. How about you bind me to a cursed book?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been watching a lot of movies lately.”

Demon chuckled. “It’s all you have at the cabin. Sorry. Have some of the delvers read off a creepy passage or something. In Latin! Everything is super creepy in Latin. That way, I can haunt them wherever.”

A cursed demonic book? “Okay. That could be your way in, I guess.”

Demon clapped her hands. “Yay! I have so many fucked-up ideas on what to put in those pages…”

“And good news, not many people believe that magic and monsters are real, so not everyone is actively looking for us,” Henry said.

“The Cult does. The Institute does, whoever they are,” Luke scoffed. “But if they do show up, I’ll welcome them to a good time and my teeth.”

“Careful, brother,” Alan said. “I’m not comfortable knowing there’s another organization out there that might know about us. Or is it after us already? Call me paranoid.”

“You’re paranoid,” Demon called out teasingly.

“Which brings me back to why we need to be quiet in the next couple of years,” I said. “The less we draw attention to ourselves, the better until I grow powerful enough. I know there aren’t that many people where I chose my dungeon, but rumors are a very powerful thing, especially urban legends. Hopefully, it will entice delvers to come to us with the help of the internet and Oracle, of course.”

“May I suggest one thing?” Alan raised his hand.

I nodded. “Go for it.”

“Instead of sitting the delvers down in one room and forcing them to choose one of us, they’d be onto who is hunting them, right? Can’t we add a bit of a mystery? Some, whatcha call it, tension for the big reveal? Like in the movies. Can’t we randomize it?”

I realized the dinner table had turned into a dungeon creation committee with the archetypes becoming my executive producers and assistants. Though Roy remained quiet, listening to the horrifying ways to hunt other people, as if writing down a grocery list for next week’s BBQ. Once Alan presented his idea, everyone had theirs to share. I listened to all of them, taking into account what they wanted out of the “Primary Hunter” position. However, it was the sirens who came up with a devious plan that the delvers could accidentally choose more than one hunter in a scenario.

A picture began to blossom inside my head.

“One moment.”

I opened the menu and went over to the [ Dungeon ] tab. Part of me was glad the scenario had taken place tonight, which earned me ten thousand crystals. All I had to do was shell out another eight K from my stash to match the price of the thing I wanted. Although money was getting tight, I had no plans to make any big purchases in the future until after the following scenario. I already renovated as much of the dungeon as I could in the past few weeks, including new additions to the Core Tree.

The latter part was expensive already. I created three classic dungeon chambers beneath the Core Tree, accessed only by sliding down through the gnarled roots that formed the entrance. Two trap rooms and one large chamber that now housed my Core, of which I planned to create a mechanical construct in the future as my guardian.

Extra protections and fail-safes. I thought Hodge and the others wouldn’t be able to find my Core inside a sprawling forest, but apparently, that’s not enough safe measures. Hopefully, a puzzle room trap and a classic death trap would dissuade delvers from venturing further.

But I still had enough money left.

So, I bought a pocket dimension.

I chose the cheapest one I could find. It cost eighteen thousand crystals for the smallest space: a chamber about the size of a basketball court. A single door materialized against the wall close to the fireplace. Though I could change what the door looked like with each summon, I opted for the simplest one.

“What’s that?” Luke asked, pointing at it. “That wasn’t there before.”

I commanded the door to open with my mind, and the door swung open. Darkness beckoned. “Come. Follow me.”

The archetypes followed.

“I call this the Selection Chamber,” I said as I flew through the door. Gas lamps along the wall lit up as I passed. “Here is where the delvers will choose their hunters.” I conjured a white marble pedestal in the center of a circular platform, where a golden mechanism stood on its surface: an hourglass. “The sands will signify how much time is left in the game. The hourglass will turn once a hunter has been chosen.”

I flicked my gaze toward the blank wall opposite the entrance, and seven doors materialized. “And these are their choices: Which door to open? I’ll also take the sirens’ idea. If they open multiple doors in a short time, those archetypes will be the hunters, too.”

“How short?” Demon asked.

“Six seconds,” I said. That’s one full round in a tabletop game. “Opening another door after that doesn’t count. When one of these doors opens, the archetype will immediately know they are chosen. No need for me to fly over and tell you.” That would get annoying really fast, but I didn’t say that out loud.

Luke raised his palm for a high five with Garth, who rolled his eyes and gave it to him. He asked, “Can we draw on these doors? Like to decorate it? We’re so gonna make it look badass that they’ll end up opening it!”

“Or scare them away from opening the door, dingus,” Alan said. “Nah, we’ll make it nice and like woodland-themed or just nature, trees, and basic shit. That way, they’ll open it to find out what’s inside.”

Luke nodded. “Ahhh…yeah…I get it. Mind games. Mental health. Psychology. I gotcha, bro. That’s why you’re the smart one!”

I caught Henry rolling his eyes at the corner.

Demon put her hand on her hips. “Hm. I’ll lean more into biblical scary. I don’t know, but it screams me, you know? The Bible but with tits.”

I narrowed my gaze to all of them. “Um, if you guys want to do arts & crafts here, that’s fine by me. Who here wants to do that?”

Everyone raised their hands. Even Goliath and Old Growth.

I laughed. “Okay. Fine. Kevin Yates and the others are coming by tomorrow to check out the property, but the scenario won’t happen until next weekend, at the earliest.” If they bite the bait I have for them. “There’s plenty of time to draw on the doors after their visit. However, I won’t use crystals to purchase the items. We have enough real-world money for that. Shop online or in town for those who can pass off as human, okay?"

I suppose this is a better use of the fifty thousand dollars I received from Justin and Melanie Hodge’s bank accounts. They wouldn't need them anymore.

The archetypes let out a few cheers, and the sirens were already busy chattering (more like hum-singing) on what they should put on their door, filling the chamber with their soulful voices. I was surprised to see Goliath write down a list for Oracle and Demon to order online for his door. He also added Old Growth’s list since the plant literally didn’t have small opposable thumbs to write with, which was nice of him. It would take them a few more days to finish this little project.

At least they were having fun.

I slipped out of the chamber (they barely noticed) and entered the room opposite the dining hall. I could no longer hear their excited voices as I focused my attention on the lone vault door across a vast sitting room, half-hidden by a bookshelf filled with old volumes of encyclopedias.

Henry suddenly appeared next to me.

“Wonderful job you did tonight, Duke,” I said.

“I aim to please, my lord,” Henry said. “Do you think they’ll take the bait?”

“Kevin and his goons? Most definitely. Their business is failing. Half of the town wants them to shut up or leave. This will push them to do what we want.”

“Are you sure it will work?”

“You’ve been human not long ago. What do you do for work?"

"I work for the bank."

"So, what will you do when presented with this opportunity?”

Henry was quiet for a moment, and then he nodded. “I’ll steal it. Eventually.”

“Then, it will work.”

I pushed the bookshelf aside and opened the vault with my mind. It swung open. Inside were priced antiques, various art paintings by long-dead painters, and stacked gold ingots worth six million dollars. All at the cost of three hundred crystals. The System just viewed this as junk, meant to decorate a dungeon to entice delvers to venture deeper into the lair of an ancient dragon.

To humans on Earth…it’s a life-changing treasure.

There was only one outcome I wanted for Kevin Yates and the others to do: attempt to steal all of it.

And the scenario will commence.