Death gate resurrected, p.1
Death Gate: Resurrected, page 1
Death Gate: Resurrected
Blaire Harding
Copyright © 2023 Blaire Harding
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Chapter One
The old abandoned mall parking lot was dark and nearly empty, with less than a dozen cars parked near the front. I was running thirty minutes late or so for the strange 3:33AM opening and scurried out of the car. I didn’t even know this place existed, I had never seen it before and I lived in this town pretty much my entire life. It gave me the creeps and as I walked across the old parking lot, it felt like something was right behind me, watching me.
Ready to pounce.
The entrance wasn’t much better. The “mall” certainly didn’t look open and I didn’t see any lights on. There was no signage—it looked like it hadn’t seen customers in thirty years or more. I could have used the extra cash resulting from being one of the first to stream this game, but this was ridiculous. If I went in there I was likely going to get robbed, or stabbed.
Probably both.
Right as I turned back, wanting nothing more to do with this place, the door popped open and a frazzled looking gamer stepped out with a box in hand. “Hey,” he said, protective of his new treasure. The box was curious, but he turned away too quickly for me to get a good look.
I decided fuck it and pulled the door open and stepped into the black unknown. In the distance a brightly lit shop stood like a beacon amongst the ruins of the mall, but it took me almost five minutes to get there snaking and weaving around all the junk in the way, not wanting to get bit by whatever could be lurking in this dark, dilapidated husk of a mall.
Enterworld Gaming glowed on a brand new storefront sign and in the window Death Gate was prominently displayed. The art style was classic, like an old action-RPG game, but after reading the forums, it was something far greater.
I walked in and the store was filled with old 00’s releases, which in itself should have set off alarm bells in my head, but I didn’t have time for that minor mystery.
In the corner there was a stack of units with a Death Gate cardboard cutout displaying the entrance into a dark, shadowy beyond. Curiously there was no price and the boxes were pure black with nothing else.
And the cardboard felt . . . odd. There was no seams and it was super light. It actually felt empty. It couldn’t be the real deal, we were supposedly years from brain hijacking virtual reality. And yet, there was something compelling about it, something I couldn’t explain.
I walked over to stand in line and question my life decisions, as three of my best friends and guildmates burst through the door:
Danny, a big muscle bound guy who does wrestling at the local university; Christian, a systems engineer who Djs on the side; and Forrest, our long haired resident artist.
I didn’t think they’d show up, everyone in the guild thought the headset would be a scam, and why wouldn’t they? New technology out of the blue, little to no advertising — zero leaks. We had nothing but speculation.
“Whatup, nerd,” said Danny. He was wearing a tank top in the thirty degree weather, but he always found a way to show off his muscles.
“Hey, wh—” I managed before Danny cut me off.
“What the hell is this place?”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“I lived here my entire life and have never even seen this building,” Forrest said.
“I know what you mean, the directions didn’t make sense, it took me over an hour to find this place,” I said.
“Check out all this retro stuff,” Christian called. The shop was filled wall to wall with old 00’s games, everything in mint condition.
“Where did it all come from?” I asked, kind of amazed. Everything was still shrink-wrapped and smelled like plastics and fresh printed ink, it was a collector’s goldmine: Sealed copies of World of Warcraft with thirty days free game time, fresh reprints of Diablo II: Lord of Destruction, Half-Life 2: The Orange box . . .
“Who cares, we’re here for Death Gate,” Danny said. And somehow he was right, amongst all this treasure, it was the only thing that seemed valuable. It called to us like a strange, unknowable energy emanated from it. The boys had no choice but to each pick up a box and join me in line.
“What the fuck?” Danny had a look on his face as he held the box. “Why does it feel so . . . rubbery?”
“Just go with it, man.” Forrest said.
“Maybe they spent all their advertising on weird shit like this. Once word gets out, people are going to lose their minds,” I said.
“That would be cool, what if you could really feel the weight of the sword in your hand?”
“Let’s pump the hype breaks a bit.” Christian said. “We’ve been burned before.” He shook his black unlabeled case around — it felt almost empty.
“What class are you going to play?” Forrest asked, looking at Danny.
“Warrior, obviously.” He flexed his muscles.
“Put those things away,” I said. “There are people around.”
“Warrior, huh? Tank or slayer spec?”
“Slayer spec, are you serious? can’t have these talents go wasted.” He flexed again and kissed one of his biceps. He got into Zyzz back in highschool and hasn't missed a day of working out since.
More and more gamers were showing up into this strange relic of a game store, but there were more than enough units for everyone. When we got to the front of the line the cashiers made me feel really uncomfortable. They were odd, mechanical.
“What’s up fellas, did you guys try that new World of Warcraft game?”
“Uh, I think so . . .”
“I’m playing Alliance, For the Alliance. Haha.”
I handed him the box and he scanned it with a bulky scanner gun. They really went all out. But why?
“Alright, that will be $66.66, and can I talk you into a premium insurance plan? For only—”
“No thank you.”
“Alright will that be cash or credit or in game—”
“Credit.”
“Alrighty.”
He stood perfectly still and he stared at me until I handed him my card. He ran it through the system, and I could hear an old dial-up modem screaming away. About a minute later I received my card back and he handed me the box.
I stood aside and waited for my friends, but it was hard — the longer I stood in the store, the more unplaceable dread I felt, but I stuck it out and together we journeyed out through the dark, abandoned labyrinthine mess of a mall.
In the parking lot we were frazzled and sort of shell-shocked. Like something unknowable just took place, something beyond reason. Like we were coated in the strange place.
Like it rubbed off on us.
I started walking to my car without saying goodbye or anything at all and jumped when Forrest called out to us.
“I’ll see you boys in game, hit me up on Voidchat.”
“You got it,” I said, mechanically.
CHAPTER TWO
When I finally got home my little apartment was a mess. I set the box down and found some leftovers in the fridge, which I nuked before switching on my rig. I inhaled my food, then got to work opening the box.
There was only a small, nylon looking skull cap with a USB cord. What the hell?
It was less of a nylon cap and more of a membrane . . . it had to be some kind of new fangled polymer, but it was certainly ugly. The only thing that was recognizable was the USB port.
Inside the rubbery box was a single slip of paper with a bunch of strange symbols all over it and at the end, some legible text:
I. Plug USB into computer interface.
II. Lay down.
I had a closer look at the ‘headset’, it was filled with thick fibers brandished with tiny little tips that reminded me of bendy acupuncture needles. Yet, I could still crumble up the whole, squishy thing in my hands, it was incredibly light and curiously warm before even plugging it in.
I laughed out loud at myself for even considering this and plugged it in, thinking of the meme potential. Watch me put this weird alien membrane over my head.
When I turned back around it was automatically installing with a big Death Gate logo stretched across my screen. I didn’t see any install prompt, but suppressed the urge to really question it — I just wanted to try it on and get over becoming another casualty of hype.
A new dialog popped up on my monitor and it went from 0-50% in an instant, then a couple seconds later hit 98 then 100%.
The monitor went black displaying only the dark Death Gate logo I saw in the shop. They must have a deal with Windows already . . . I thought, but my curiosity got the best of me and I put the strange, alien device on and it covered my eyes and half my face.
There was a slight prickling sensation and it felt like it came alive on my head. It's the only way I could describe it as I started feeling a headrush coming on.
I pulled it off and looked at it, wondering how safe this thing really was. But I had to try it, if I was one of the first, I could make a lot of easy money str eaming.
I put it back on.
At first I felt nothing, then a jet engine took off in my head and for a brief moment I could feel it massaging my head like it was alive with tentacles and I felt a sharp, dull pressure before the darkness.
I woke up in bed staring at my ceiling.
But something wasn’t right.
My head was killing me and curiously, it smelled like herbs and sage and incense, with an unplaceable astringent smell wafting through the air.
There was a mobile hanging above me and I noticed several dead bird carcasses hanging from it. But it wasn’t my ceiling or my dead bird carcasses dancing around on a mobile adorned with feathers with a handmade knife dangling from the center.
I rolled out of bed, careful not to cut myself on the knife or hit the probably disease ridden birds. But I stood up too quickly and the blood rushed from my head and stars danced in my vision. I had to grab hold of the bedpost to steady myself.
It hadn’t dawned on me yet.
Not yet.
I was in shock, this wasn’t VR, this was another world. I could see, touch, smell, and feel. I stumbled around in a stupor, examining all the death shrines and charms and hanging bones wrapped up in little occultic bundles.
I poked at all this person’s strange belongings. They weren’t mine, yet they felt oddly familiar, like the game was blocking out certain knowledge and memories — what I would think amnesia would feel like.
Then I had a look at my base gear.
I was wearing dark, woolen robes so I was obviously a caster — but then I realized why my balance was off.
I grabbed a hold of each breast before it dawned on me.
Do I have fucking tits?
I ran to the mirror in the corner and the answer was yes: Big ones. I was placed in a female body. A really hot one. About my same age but I had a gorgeous body and a seriously plump ass to match with dark, witchy brunette hair and arcane eyes.
I was incredibly hot, actually, and any guy would drool over me. Just to be sure, I pulled out my tits and they were incredible looking, like they were shaped by some unseen hand.
I tried looking for a menu or anything at all but nothing could be found, no GUI, no HUD, nothing.
I poked at my tits again and they jiggled around and I shuddered. They were more sensitive than you would think. What did I get myself into.
They felt really nice, and if this wasn’t so weird, I’d take this body for a whirl, but I needed to figure out how to exit so I could re-roll, asap. I was not going to play a girl in this game, I could only imagine how thirsty the boys would be if they saw me in this body.
Someone has to be fucking with me.
I shook my head, determined to figure this out before anything weird happened. But before I could do anything at all, I had to eat something. My avatar was starving and it was making me feel light headed.
I looked around for some food and saw a hanging loop of mystery meat. I gave it a sniff and it looked well preserved and mold free.
I really had no idea how to cook in real life, yet now I knew exactly what to do. My head was still foggy, like I had amnesia, and couldn’t really remember much of anything other than cooking.
A polished hunk of bone shined near the cutting board and I found a sharp blade attached to it. It felt real and natural in my hand, like I had been using it for years.
I sliced up the mystery meat like a pro and didn’t feel an AI guiding me at all. They were my skills, my hands, my salted mystery meats.
Under the counter I found a bountiful cornucopia of fresh root veggies. They looked much heartier than the stuff at home and reminded me of the heirloom varieties with the bright, blotchy, vivid colors; dark purples and reds and oranges in the potatoes and radishes and carrots.
I also found something that I approximated as a mix between garlic and shallots, but they were huge and fist-sized and smelled amazing.
I washed them in a nearby rinsing bucket and chopped them with absolute precision.
Next I threw in a slab of fat in the heating cauldron and some nearby hanging bones. I stirred them around in the fat until they were nice and browned then poured a half a gallon of my drinking water in.
I knew where everything was in this kitchen, and yet that’s as far as my memories went.
I tossed in the meat and the veggies and some salt and a bouquet of herbs.
It already smelled amazing and I put the heavy, iron lid on so it would quickly cook like a pressure cooker.
While it was cooking I further explored this weird and dark witchy home.
I must have prodded through the little home for an hour, trying to figure out if this was real and where the menu button was all the while trying to avoid all the strange dead things hanging everywhere, before the cauldron started steaming over and the smell was irresistible.
I popped open the lid and sure enough, it acted as a pressure cooker — steam hissed out and before me was a perfectly cooked stew.
I ladled myself out a bowl and holy shit. It smelled incredible. Using my bone carved spoon, I had a bite.
It tasted beautiful and hearty and rustic.
It was the best fucking thing I ever made.
Nearby I found a loaf of dark bread. And took a sniff. It smelled lovely and must have been some kind of fermented black bread. I ripped off a piece and found some salted butter and mopped up some stew and tried a bite.
It was so fucking good I felt tingles in my body.
Fuck me.
It was incredible.
After my stomach was full I started to feel a lot better, and my headache was gone.
There was only one thing left to do.
I took a peak out the only window in my modest little housing and saw giant gray trees all around me.
A little witch’s cottage out in the woods.
How quaint.
CHAPTER THREE
Outside it was dark and foggy with a full moon cutting through the thick canopy above.
I found a torch and walked down the path outside my cottage leading to the main trail.
Curious sounding creatures howled in the distance and none sounded too friendly, but I pressed on, determined to find an NPC so I could change my character. Besides, it's just a game. What’s the worst that could happen?
After about ten minutes of walking nearly blind through the forest I found a sign that read: Ravenholm. An arrow pointed that indicated I was in fact walking in the right direction, and I made haste, hurrying before guys could start hitting on me. I was literally too hot for my own good. But it was so fucking dark. My torch only illuminated a small bubble around me.
After several miles I was starting to think I took a wrong turn. The darkness was unrelenting, the forest swallowed me up. In the modern age, people forget how dark the woods are at night, and it felt like some of the ambient howls were catching up with me. This dark biome was filled with life and I was the only one that couldn’t see. I wished my avatar remembered anything about these dark woods at all because I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
After gaining on me for what seemed like hours, the relentless howls finally caught up with me.
A cacophonous growl tore through the shadows, and I instinctively turned, my heart pounding, to confront the source.
Two monsterous wolves emerged from the inky black void, each nearly the size of a damn horse, their teeth baring in a menacing snarl. Mouths dripping with thick saliva carrying the pungent stench of impending danger.
A nervous whimper escaped my lips, and my hands fumbled urgently over my cloak, searching for a weapon or any means of defense. Panic pulsed through me, my mind racing as I desperately sought a solution. The towering beasts began to encircle me, moving with calculated precision, their glowing eyes locked onto me like coiled springs ready to snap.
Terror surged through me, nearly paralyzing me, but the adrenaline jolted me into action. My throat constricted as I let out an involuntary scream, my voice a pitch higher than I would've ever thought possible. The wolves' growls deepened, like a chorus of doom harmonizing with my fear.
Fueled by desperation, I waved my arms frantically, hoping against hope that some latent power within me would manifest. My fingers twitched as if trying to conjure an incantation, but the silence that followed was crushing. There was no magical surge, no saving spell to pull from the depths of my being.
