I. The Chariot

>the year is 2027; Volcaldera Bluffs
>be Anon
>your average loser college student living in the dorms
>nolife nogf ngmi
>only friend is some stoner you play vidya with
>that is, in fact, the only regular interaction between you two despite his room being across the hall
>you've seen him irl like twice in the three years you've spent together
>but one thing's for certain, you two would do anything for eachother
>one year you didn't get accepted into the dorms, so your friend used his drugdealer influence to make it happen
>then there was that one time he could have scored a girl if only his roommate was away, so you gave up your room and slept on a bench in the park for two days
>or that one time you both got banned from a game for botting, so the two of you spent the next three weeks in delirium fuelled by doritos and energy drinks until you managed to hack their servers and lift the bans
>turned out his account was already wiped, so you deleted your own too cause it wouldn't have been the same without him
>it was a bromance like no other - but totally no-homo
>other than that, well, school sucks but it's doable, that's why you're more focused on leveling your characters in various games
>the town itself sucks even more, notorious hotspot for mafia shit
>everyone knows the big mafia family, but nobody lifts a finger and so they can do whatever the fuck they want
>it's always been bad but last year they've finished building this big casino-slash-luxury-resort for all their mafia friends
>whatever, not like you go outside more than once every two weeks - unless it's for a class you just can't miss
>it's none of your concern
>at least it wasn't, until you had a... let's call it a premonition

>would have been your averagest of average Fridays, waiting for your friend to get back from whatever the fuck his job is so you can grind the night away
>with some luck those gloves would drop you want so badly
>but with all that waiting and waiting, you somehow fell asleep
>it wasn't for long, just one of those short-naps
>but it *was* really lifelike
>well actually there was like a title card, like at the beginning of a cutscene?
>okay that maybe wasn't lifelike but in your dream you took it for granted
>all it said was the time anyway, 22:28
>after that you were just some rando on the street, or like a game camera or something
>observing
>it's night, as it was when you nodded off
>the only lightsource is the flicker of the red neon sign above the noodle shop you like, right across the dorm building, and of the few streetlamps still working
>then, with a louder hum the sign breathes its last and gives out, delegating its duties to the streetlamps below
>in that dim light you see one peculiar car roll down the street
>you know the one
>everybody knows the one
>the white whatarecarbrands with the golden hood ornament and tinted windows
>*that* one
>being the incorporeal thing you are, this time you don't turn away, you don't act like the three monkeys
>in fact you - or your vision or whatever - glide closer, fuelled by this nonsensical feeling of intrigue
>and what you see shocks you
>on the other side of the tinted windows, in the back seat, there is a bloodied, tied-up body
>a very familiar pink raptor
>still breathing but barely, pissing himself in fear... it's your friend

>you jolt awake
>"Reed?!"
>takes a minute or two for you to calm down, realizing it was just a dream
>a real fucked up one
>shit and you're sleeping through the raid!
>it's already been an hour since you two were supposed to start grinding
>but wait, what's this?
>he's not online
>remembering your dream, you're hit with this bad feeling in your gut
>one you know is just a silly little thing
>dreams are dreams
>so maybe he saw you being afk and...?
>come on he could have idled for an hour waiting for your tardy ass
>what's the time now?
>22:25, turning right onto 22:26
>...okay that's kinda ominous
>two minutes
>it... it has to be a coincidence
>...
>you shoot a quick message to your friend saying to stay online if he does come back, then smoke in your hand you waddle down to the street
>flickering sign, check
>22:27, check
>...
>why did you even bother? there's just no way it can be real
>still, your hand shakes and you can barely lift the cigarette to your mouth
>22:28
>you don't dare outright look for the car, turning away from the street
>the last thing you need is being picked up for looking too interested
>half a minute has passed
>...
>the suspense is killing you
>any little noise you hear as the roar of an engine or of the sound of tires
>as the seconds tick away you're more and more of a mess
>then
>22:29
>you give a sigh of relief, suddenly realizing just how stupid you were
>come on dude
>dreams are dreams
>maybe Reed got laid again, that lucky bastard
>right
>let's get back inside and do some farming
>maybe you get lucky too and finally get those gloves
>you flick the cigarette butt away
>but as you lift your feet to put it out
>as the sole of your bright yellow Spgonebob flip-flops connects with the sizzling end of the cig
>as the feeling of carefree youth would again fill your body
>you hear it
>the low buzzing of the neon sign behind you gets louder, and after another few more flickers, the light dies out
>that's something you definitely remember from your dream
>oh no
>NO
>the bad feeling once again settles in your stomach, impossible to ignore
>it can't be happening
>it has to be a coincidence
>it just has to
>the minute has already passed!
>plead or reason any you might, the dreaded sound of a car approaching fills your ears
>it can't be
>it cn't b
>tcntb
>...
>but it can
>white paintjob
>tinted windows
>gold ornament
>and inside, on the back seat...
>you know damn fucking well what's in there

>feelings of dread, disbelief, the need for self-preservation, and above all, loyalty stir within you
>there is just no way this could be real
>you're not some oracle or anything special, you're just you
>but on the off-chance it *is* real...
>you cannot abandon your friend to this horrible fate
>but that car and those people
>chasing them would...
>but if you don't go after them now, you could lose them forever
>you could lose your Reed
>"Oh fucking FUCK ME!"
>you yell out, chugging into action as the car rounds the corner
>it's kinda hard to run in flip-flops, but that's what you got
>and like a madman, you run
>thankfully they're not going fast, more like a leisurely cruise through the neighborhood
>perhaps not wanting to attract attention, or perhaps this is fate looking out for you
>you can't dismiss fate or whatever the fuck else higher power being a thing anymore
>lagging behind just enough to avoid being noticed, sometimes waiting the full length of a street till they turn away, you track them
>hopefully the bright yellow color of your flip-flops didn't show in the rearview-mirror


II. Reversed Sun

>the chase lasts only about half an hour
>fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it ends up right where you suspected it would
>the casino-slash-luxury-resort
>it's all lit up and bustling with life like there's some event going on
>male humans and dinos in costumes, escorts in skimpy clothing coming and going
>the rich being rich, basically
>is this somehow related to Reed being taken?
>you don't see how the two things could be connected
>from afar you watch the car roll into some sort of underground garage, and then
>...what now?
>you can't very well follow them down there
>is this it?
>there must be something you can do!
>your dream said nothing about all this, some good that was
>or maybe this means you're like, destined to save Reed?
>how long till he gets hacked up into bodyparts and dumped in the river or something?
>you *need* to get inside
>but there's no way you can bullshit your way in if anyone stopped you, and there's no way you could sneak past the guards
>then again, it would be kinda bullshit if the hero got stopped by the first few trash mobs, right?
>what if you just stroll in like you belong?
>...
>but how do you know those *are* trash mobs? what if the guards are these high level elites?
>whatever, maybe they'll just think you're a college student trying to score some booze or something
>not like there's anything else you can do
>if you have fate on your side, it *should* work

>and indeed it does
>maybe it's the signature look of superiority you're forcing on your face
>maybe it's the ridiculous attire you're wearing that makes you look like an absent-minded-millionaire
>or maybe fate really did put a spell of invisibility on you
>there's only one guy, someone you recognize from school, that gives you a second look
>that ptero guy with the crippled wing
>you've always suspected he had some connection to the mafia, and now you know for certain
>did he recognize you?
>you haven't ever talked to him, so... hopefully not
>whatever the case may be, you're now inside
>and it oh *definitely* is like dropping into a whole new world
>not only the people around, but the interior of this building it's just...
>silver, gold, and marble everywhere, Greek-looking statues and columns of all shapes and sizes that support an unbelievably high ceiling, one which is adorned with a painting right out of the Sistine Chapel
>if all this is intended to wow the onlooker, it certainly did the trick
>meanwhile it's once every blue moon you get hot water in the dorms
>you force yourself to cut the gawking-session short, though
>must look like you belong
>to that end, you take a better look at the people around you
>fat businessman looking motherfuckers in all sorts of costumes or bathrobes, escorted by very much expensive looking hookers
>security guards with their dark suits, sunglasses and earpieces like the Men in Black
>the occasional staff member in their golden-red uniforms
>and wait what the Hell is *that*?!
>there's a group of Star Wars cosplayers
>on segways and electric rollers
>with large plastic chest pieces glued onto their foreheads
>pawn stormtroopers, rook wookies, and a stegosaur dressed like a bishop Han Solo doing tailwhips on a scooter
>it's a sight like none other, and one you cannot make any sense of
>you've already been feeling like Alice, but now this literally is some Wonderland shit
>they all come and go, doing little stunts on their vehicles
>are those even called vehicles?
>wait oh fuck!
>fucking black-queen-Darth-Vader is coming your way!
>to avoid getting your cover blown or being force-choked you turn into a crowded corridor branching off to the side
>it's still way too pompous for what it is, although less so than the main hall you just left
>there are closed doors on both sides, mostly numbered but there's one you recognize as the men's room
>public toilets, probably
>the crowd is too thick to turn around and check, but you do have a feeling that you're being followed
>the only way to go is forward

>the hallway isn't all that long, takes only about a couple of minutes to get to the other side
>although the red carpeting has been exchanged for fancy-looking marble tiling, and the air is getting a more and more humid
>like in a bathhouse
>and eventually, lo and behold, you do get to what appears to be the entrance of a bathhouse
>or a thermal bath maybe, who knows?
>explains all the old men in bathrobes, at least
>there's a bigger, fancier room again, with several exits
>deck chairs and hammocks to one side, and what seems to be a little ticket or information booth on the other
>now that you have the chance, you take look back in the corridor
>doesn't look like anyone's coming for you
>now that's a relief
>but what do you do now?
>none of this looks like a place they'd take Reed, and you have no idea how to get to places they might
>wait, no!
>you've seen this building from the outside like a million times as they were still building it, en route to school
>you've seen the huge billboards advertising the pools
>there's an entire floor made up of like these terrace-pool things, and you're God-damned certain you've seen a staircase leading up there and back to the ground
>right beside the garage
>if you can make your way there unnoticed, maybe you could get underground
>what then, you still down know
>one step at a time
>first you have to get to the pools
>you don't know what floor they're on, and you're down on ground-level
>there's no map on the wall, and no elevator within sight
>there *is* that booth, but you'd rather not talk to people if you can help it
>nobody stopped you so far, but you just don't want to risk it
>you should get a move on, too, because the guy in the booth is looking straight at you
>once again you pick a random exit and pray for the best


III. Reversed Lovers

>what feels like way too long later, through many-a-pool-and-staircase, you finally get to the floor you want
>cold night air hits your wet skin, making you shudder
>there aren't that many people out here, perhaps for the same reason
>those who are, though, and through the thick clouds of vapor you need to take a double fucking look, are...
>naked!
>butt fucking naked!
>all those old farts, and the few macho-looking guys, and even
>even
>even the girls
>they're all naked
>hot ass titties bouncing as they prance around in the water, serving the men their drinks and...
>and servicing them in other ways
>oh
>oh God!
>this dream has just turned into a fucking nightmare
>still, the primal feeling of wild excitement stirs inside you, and you can't tear your eyes away from the macabre sight
>one of those old fucks you even know!
>it's the fucking principal!
>only as a dino girl approaches you do you manage to even blink
>with a wide, sweet, and totally-not-fake smile she reaches for the towel around your waist
>you've had to get out of your clothes - save for your boxers - long ago, stashing them in a random hammock around one of the pools
>"Now, now darling~! We won't need that up here!"
>you're frozen on the spot as she takes the towel, exposing more of your skin
>thank fuck you still have your boxers on you
>the girl gives you a mock-disapproving look, giggling lightly
>"Shy, are we? That's fine~! For now..."
>it's only as she takes your hand do you finally recognize her
>she might have dyed her hair black and put up a fake mole on her cheek, but it's most definitely that para-whatever-saur girl from school
>you try to recall her name as she leads you to one of the smaller, secluded - and thank fuck empty - hot pools
>Naomi
>you're quite certain her name is Naomi
>what in Hell is *she* doing here?
>Spears, you can kind of see a pervert rich guy
>but you've always got the impression she's this straight arrow, moral to a fault
>so now, watching her bare ass jiggle just enough underwater so that you don't see her pussy, it's unreal
>is *this* what fate had in store for you?
>that doesn't seem right
>your breath, whatever little there was of it, practically stops as you reach the railing
>you can see for miles from up here
>this has to be like the twentieth floor or something!
>the dorm building, all seven floors of it, seems laughably small
>and so does your life
>even though you enjoy being a nobody, you've never felt so insignificant before
>is this what rich people get to live like?
>as if to answer your question, the dirty, hoglike laugh of some old guys hit your ears, followed by squeals of a younger girl
>Naomi next to you does her best to distract you from the sounds, pushing her way between you and the railing
>you've never been this close to a girl before
>ever
>not by the longest of longshots
>so now, having this girl push her naked ass up against your junk, murmuring obscenities into your ear
>it's just too much
>your thoughts scatter, and you just scantly register someone pushing your boxers to your knees
>was it you or was it her?
>nobody knows
>it's only the feeling of your member slipping between her soft thighs
>it's only the feeling of her full, bare breast in your hand
>it's only the feeling of flesh on flesh
>it's only the feeling of being a man, more than you've ever been before
>*that* is what you know
>*that* is all your world has now become
>it's *you* thigh-fucking this girl, and for all the world to see!
>you don't even try to stifle your panting, and neither does she keep down her moans
>"F-Fuck! A-nnnon~! Your d-dick is sssooOOOoo good~!"
>"Yeah, take it you slut!"
>"Ah-Ah-Are you go-gonna make me yh-yh-yh-your bitch?"
>you don't answer her with words, but instead by grabbing her neck and pulling her closer to you
>"Ah-Yeah-Ch-Choke meeeeEEEeee~!"
>you need no more encouragement
>you're in charge here
>and she *will be* your bitch
>your grip tightens on her neck, maybe a little more than what's healthy even in a situation like this
>she squirms a little, but the expression of ecstasy doesn't leave her face
>in the beginning you felt like she's just doing her job as an escort, perhaps hoping for a hefty tip, but that shit's gone out the fucking window now
>it's raw, carnal urges being fulfilled now
>fuck, and if that's true, why not go a little further?
>why not be a little dirtier?
>not like you'll ever have another chance
>you don't want to get her pregnant, no, but...
>well, she already has her back to you
>adjusting your hips slightly, you put your dick between her asscheeks
>and then, just a little lower...
>you really do wonder what her reaction is gonna be
>how dirty a girl are you, Naomi?
>prodding at her asshole, her expression does indeed change fast
>it's one of disbelief, one of panic
>she doesn't yet speak up
>maybe she's hoping it's gonna be over soon
>maybe she's hoping you're too much of a pussy to do it
>but oh no right now you aren't!
>you're a man, and you're gonna make her your bitch!
>as you increase the pressure, as she begins to understand the situation, so she starts squirming, fighting your grasp
>but there is very little she can do
>she can't even scream, not the way you're choking her
>and you're gonna get what you're due now.

>the next couple of minutes, they're a blur
>but you're pretty damn sure you were balls deep into Naomi's ass when you came
>and you're pretty damn sure she obediently sucked you off clean after that
>where she's gone, now of that you're not so sure
>you're lounging in one of the hammocks, and probably have been for a while now
>smoke in hand and smiling the king of the world you know you are
>you're partially dried by now, and on those spots your skin has this weird tingling feel
>it's kind of like how clouded your mind is
>doesn't take you long to connect the dots
>the water here must be laced with something
>shit, didn't you technically rape Naomi just now?
>what the Hell were you thinking?
>as shame overlaps the pride you're feeling you realize the reality of the situation
>the reason why you came here
>the danger you're in
>the danger *Reed* is in
>if he's still alive, that is
>quick, you get out of the hammock and look for your clothes
>thankfully your boxer is nearby, floating on the surface of the pool you probably just left
>alongside it are little white globs of...
>yeah, time to get the fuck out of here.
>leaving the horrors of the pools behind you find the staircase you were looking for, descending fast as you just can

>in the dark of the night and with the wind picking up around you, the descent from a floor so high definitely gets the adrenaline pumping
>your head still reels from what you guess to be aphrodisiacs in the water too
>not the mention the dopamine circling around your veins
>well hey, the silver lining here is that at least you got laid
>...
>at the bottom, there are two doors
>one of them leads inside the building
>the other out into the garden, and to the garage
>nobody has noticed you so far
>which is a good fucking thing, cause they definitely would have a few questions for why you're using this glorified fire-escape instead of partying with the other guests
>it's bad enough to get caught trespassing, but by the mafia?
>yeah, that's an express ticket to a barrel in the desert
>so which door should you take?
>there are people out in the gardens, that could be a problem
>they're mostly drunk, though
>on the other hand, where the door may lead inside is a wildcard
>might be the continuation of the staircase straight down
>or it might be right next to a security guard post
>"Hey you! What are you doing there?"
>oh fuck! someone made you!
>it's that crippled wing guy, coming straight for you
>he's still some ways from the staircase, but it won't take him more than a minute to reach you
>"Yes you! Don't you move!"
>shit
>fuck
>FUCK
>if he catches you, that's definitely the end of the line
>and it's not very likely you'll be able to lose him on the stairs
>not with these flip-flops
>without further ado you tear open the door inside
>...
>well the good thing is there are no guards here
>the bad thing is that you're back at the entrance to the bathhouse
>what the fuck do you do?
>you need to lose that guy some-fucking-how!
>inside the bath?
>no way.
>being caught there means a thousand eyes on you
>back to the main hall?
>there were more security guards there than the rest of the building combined
>take another door at random?
>that seems to be the best possible option right now
>or...
>wait
>frantically trying to distance yourself from the door, you rush to the information booth - hoping that it is, in fact, an information booth
>"Hey uh, guys! Which way to the sauna again?"
>oh please oh please oh please let there be a sauna here
>"There's no sauna here, sir."
>FUCK
>wait, they called you sir
>yes.
>sir is good
>keep that up
>any fucking second now the other guy comes in the door and then your ass is done
>you need to get away!
>"Oh? No? Haha! Well..."
>"Might we interest you in a private massage?"
>"YES"
>hopefully your voice wasn't too panicky
>with a large smile the guy working the counter hands you a new bathrobe and a key
>"Room 37, just down the hall!"
>"YES"
>while scrambling to put the robe on you snatch the key from the guy and haul ass outta there, getting lost in the crowd that still festers in the corridor leading to the main hall
>not one second later you hear the door opening
>over the sounds of the crowd you can't make out what they're saying but it's definitely clear that you can't go to room 37, it's the first place they'll look for you
>but you have to find shelter before the damn hallway ends
>room 41
>fine, that'll have to fucking do
>you just have to pretend hard enough that there's not gonna be anyone inside
>if lady luck led you this far, perhaps she won't let you down this time either


IV. The Hanged Man

>you slam the door just a little too hard maybe, startling the girl inside
>"Hi there, sir!"
>against all odds, it's yet another face that you recognize
>it's that one weird stegosaur girl, although you don't know her name
>is everyone in that damn school employed by the mafia or something?
>perhaps there is a reason why Reed got picked up as well...
>the girl doesn't seem to recognize you, though, giving you a puzzled look
>"Sir?"
>a quick glance around the room tells you that this is very possibly another massage parlor
>knowing this place and that these are private rooms, it's most likely for *happy* massages
>the little bathtub in the corner would suggest as much, not many kinds of massages that require you to clean yourself afterward
>forcing yourself to calm down you clear your throat and rattle the keychain in the air
>"Yeah so, I came for a massage in room 37 but it was occupied, so..."
>"Oh, that can happen sometimes! So many doors here right?"
>"Right..."
>"Can *I* do anything for you instead, sir?"
>"Uh..."
>what's the right play here?
>if they bust down the door looking for you, maybe you could play it off like just another patron getting a massage
>this is *not* room 37 after all
>the staircase was all dark and stuff, so maybe they didn't recognize you?
>it could work
>but *could* is not good enough here, with your life on the line and all
>there's already shouting coming from outside
>okay fuck it
>she seems like a nice girl
>"There's a guy coming for me, and he wants to kill me. You have to help me hide!"
>"W-What?"
>the shouting gets louder
>they're closing in
>"I need to hide! Now!"
>uncertain still, the girl quickly ushers you to a built-in wardrobe, shoving you inside and closing the door on you
>there, enclosed in the dark, you wait
>you don't know what the girl is doing outside, but hopefully she can handle the situation
>with each second that pass you get more and more on edge, but at the same time more and more hopeful
>it's been a whole minute now
>you turn your attention to the clothes that surround you
>they're various skimpy outfits, from what you can tell
>fucking Hell, just what is this place?
>do the police know about this?
>they're using all these girls here
>like yeah they're not underage but...
>this is only the public part of the building
>*who knows* what's going on behind the scenes?
>as if this wasn't already disturbing enough
>and why would the girls do this?
>is the pay that good?
>are they being blackmailed?
>this *is* the mafia you're talking about here
>they seemed fine at school, but isn't that the point of a hush-hush deal? to be hush-hush?
>suddenly, there's a loud bang on the door
>has to be the guy looking for you
>oh please oh please stego girl be nice
>you're practically pissing yourself in fear
>you can hear the door opening now
>"Is he here?"
>"He?"
>"Don't play the fool, Stella."
>"B-But I don't know who-"
>"You know Father doesn't like girls that lie. You want to keep working here, don't you?"
>"Well... I..."
>"I'll ask that again. You want to keep both your eyes, don't you?"
>"N-Naser, I-"
>"Would be a shame to ruin that pretty face, wouldn't it?"
>you hear the lock mechanism click, then the metallic sound of a switchblade opening
>you've heard enough of that back in Skinrow
>this is some fucked up shit
>but the girl - Stella - held up her end of the deal
>there wasn't even a your end of the deal, she's lying for your sake alone
>you can't let them carve her face
>without warning you burst forth from the closet, hoping to take the guy - Naser, apparently - by surprise
>at first it seems to be working cause you manage to land a hit right in his face
>but it wasn't enough to take him out
>not by far
>within seconds he retaliates, going at you with his knife
>it's only by mere luck you manage to dodge his slashes that would otherwise gut you like a fish
>there's no opening for you to attack
>and with just your bare hands, there's no way to defend yourself other than dancing around the room
>at the price of taking a cut into your forearm, you manage to get the massage table in between the two of you, temporarily halting for a stalemate
>"Naser stop!"
>"You don't tell me what to do skinnie boy!"
>"I'll go! I'll leave! I won't tell anyone!"
>"Don't think so. You two have been a thorn in my side for too long."
>you... what?
>you've never even talked to him
>although it's unlikely he'll listen to reason, not by the way he flashes you the knife, its end dripping with your crimson red blood
>that cut on your arm is starting to hurt more and more as well
>is this really the end?
>wait, is that...?
>you don't dare tear your eyes from Naser, but from the corner of your eyes you swear you can see it
>Stella sneaking up from behind
>this could be your chance!
>but for it to work you need to keep Naser focused on you
>"Hey fucked wing retard! What did you do with Reed?"
>"Call me that again and I'll-"
>"What did you do with Reed?!"
>"That little faggot? He's still alive, you know. But he'll wish he wasn't."
>"If you dare hurt him, I-"
>"You'll do what you prick? You won't leave this room alive. And besides, it's Father who's gonna-ACK!"
>the hit lands true, sending Naser hurdling forward
>using the diversion you quickly climb across the table, jumping on him and tackling him to the ground
>tough these dinos may be, you still outweigh them
>by a lot
>as the two of you fall to the floor the knife drops from Naser's hand, too far to reach
>and he still won't give up
>with a vicious snarl he goes for your face, claws ripping into your skin up painfully
>one
>twice
>thrice
>you shove him into the floor, fragile bones in his wings shattering with each loud thud
>he winces in pain but still struggles against you
>a second later you're sent flying backward as Naser delivers a painful kick to your gut
>fuck
>maybe you should have pinned his legs down
>what's worse, you can feel your body weaken
>adrenaline is one thing, but spending day after day inside by your computer...
>well let's just say it doesn't build a lot of muscle
>Naser might be the polar opposite of you in that matter, track star and certified mafia tough-guy
>rugged and beaten up though, but he still is stronger than you
>the two of you clash together again, skin and scales and claws and muscles forming a living statue of defiance
>you each got one hand of the other in a grip, settling for a sort of desperate tug of war
>a tug of war that, second by second, Naser seems to be winning
>your eyes connect with his, and in those eyes you can see burning hatred and the lust for revenge
>by any metric, he's gonna beat you
>he's gonna kill you
>except you have something he does not
>an upper hand that must have been delivered to you by fate itself
>it's Stella once more who, against all odds, comes to your rescue
>this time you can clearly see her frightened expression as she closes in, plunging the knife deep into Naser's shoulder
>his grip on you weakens immediately, arm dropping limply to his side
>you don't think for even a second, animal instinct taking over
>delivering a couple of heavy hits to his injured shoulder you sap Naser of all his remaining strength, till he's little more than a doll in your hands
>then, to finally put an end to all this, you drag him over to the tub in the corner
>its pristine water is soon dirtied with blood, both yours and Naser's
>he struggles as you push his head under the water, but once you kneel into his back, there's nothing he can do
>just like you and your dream, there's no force that could stop the hand of fate

>there's blood on your hands now
>literally
>and the loot you got from a boss battle ball-bustingly hard as this was?
>a switchblade knife - bloody
>a plastic card - colored golden and ivory
>and a box of cigarettes - wet
>"I-Is he...?"
>you hear Stella's voice coming from behind, so you turn to face her
>...and you don't know what to say
>looks like she doesn't either
>the awkward moment stretches to the length of a full minute, underlined by the inadvertedly loud intestinal movement of Naser's dead body
>yeah you did read something about how we fart when we die
>it really is a stench of death
>deperate for clear air though, yet neither of you dares to leave the room
>as you start to deliberate over the consequences of your action, there's one detail you keep going back to
>a piece of the puzzle that might hold a metric fuckton of significance
>"Who's this Father guy he kept going on about?"
>"W-What?"
>her shrunken pupils tell you that Stella is still in shock
>perhaps this was too much for her
>she's just a girl, after all
>but you *need* to know!
>"Father? Is that some mafia higher-up? Is he the boss here? Do they have connections to the church or is this a cult, or-"
>"It-It's-Ri-Ripley. Naser's dad. He's..."
>oh.
>that name you know
>hearing it is enough to get the image of that terrifying scarred musclehead stuck in your head
>and there's one more thing you know
>it's something everyone knows
>he most definitely *is* the head of the mafia
>not only in town, but talk is that he's in control of this entire region
>whatever that means
>point is, he's not a guy you want to cross
>and you did just kill his son.
>another fart produced by the corpse is enough to cement that idea in your mind
>it's a miracle nobody came yet to get you
>you weren't all that loud, like, neither of you were yelling but...
>whatever, even if it's a miracle, you'll take it
>but what do you do now?
>you're not a damn step closer to finding Reed
>although it seems he's alive at least, and might be for the foreseeable future
>wait, that card!
>you hold the golden card up in the air for Stella to see
>"Do you know what this is? Have you seen these guys using them for whatever?"
>"Y-Yeah t-they're... Access cards."
>"Access cards? For what?"
>"The... The elevator."
>"I've seen no fucking elevator here."
>"It's hidden..."
>*sigh*
>"Do you know where it is?"
>"Y-Yes?"
>"Will you show me?"
>"..."
>"Stella?"
>she doesn't answer you with words, but her eyes move to Naser's body
>right, maybe you should do something about that
>but uh, what the fuck do you do with a dead fucking body?
>it's the size of...
>well it's the size of a dead fucking body.
>"I'll put him in the closet, you drain the water."
>"..."
>"Stella?"
>yeah, she's definitely in shock
>poor girl, you've never wanted this for her
>it was self-defense, sure, but she's just helped you murder someone
>and if you really want to get into it, after disabling Naser's arm, it would have been pretty much over
>you didn't *need* to drown him too
>...
>"Stella!"
>"Y-Yes?"
>"The water!"
>"Right..."
>with her help you lift Naser's body from the tub, stashing it unceremoniously in the wardrobe
>it's gonna take maybe a day or two till they find him
>by then, hopefully, you'll be far from here
>afterward you clean the tub best you can
>it's gruesome business
>once you're done, though, the room looks just like it did when you entered
>if you didn't know for a fact, you certainly couldn't tell that there's a dead body in the wardrobe
>you let Stella wrap a towel around your injured arm, if only to stop the bleeding
>she still looks pretty shaken up, but it looks like she's accepted the situation
>in a way, you feel responsible for her now
>"How long till you can get out of here?"
>"...My shift doesn't end till the party is over."
>"When's that?"
>"I don't know."
>"You don't know?"
>"These things can last the whole weekend."
>holy fucking shit and she's gotta rub down old men till then?
>no going home?
>that's just wrong on so many levels
>not to mention how the body in the closet might prove to be a bit of an issue
>"Uh, maybe you can sneak off during a break?"
>"..."
>no answer?
>what, she wants to stay here?
>"You're gonna get caught, Stella. They're gonna get you."
>"...They're gonna get me either way."
>...
>well, that could be true
>with the sheer manpower at his fingertips, it won't take long for Ripley to track her down
>something that applies to you as well
>even if you get to Reed, even if you manage to free him...
>what then?
>what's tomorrow gonna be like?
>what's gonna happen next week? next month?
>no, this isn't like some raid or a dungeon or fucking PvP
>the threat won't go away when you leave
>in fact, it's gonna be more real than it ever was
>"We have to get him."
>"...Get him?"
>"Ripley. I'm gonna kill him."
>for Reed
>for Stella
>shit, even for Naser
>if it wasn't for his asshole father, he never would have ended up this way
>one way or another, it all ends tonight


V. Reversed Wheel of Fortune

>having failed to convince Stella to escape, she promptly returned to her room after showing you to the elevator
>took you a lot of hall wandering, through multiple staff-only areas too
>thankfully Stella seemed to have enough influence around here so she could escort you here safely
>even more thankfully, nobody seems to have noticed your fight with Naser
>people are going about their business' quite normally
>they're not even really questioning the Indiana Jones outfit - complete with the hat - Stella pulled from the wardrobe for you
>it is a costume ball after all
>the only things it was missing were the whip and the shoes, so you still sporting the Spongebob flip-flops
>alright.
>this is it
>you flash the card at the sensor, and enter the elevator
>it's got buttons from minus nine all the way up to thirty
>thirty fucking floors
>at the top must be Ripley's penthouse
>and somewhere in the basement must be Reed
>where do you go first?
>you desperately want to get to Reed, but strictly speaking once you find him it'll all turn into an escort the NPC mission
>you could barely defend yourself from Naser, and he was only one guy with a knife
>no
>if you want to get this done, do this right, you'll have to deal with Ripley first
>if you can't, none of the rest matter
>thus, with a deliberate motion you press the button to the top floor
>hopefully you won't encounter anyone on your way up
>the display on the wall says it's around 2 AM now
>four hours...
>feels a lot longer than that
>you're tired
>so tired
>what are you gonna do about Ripley anyway?
>forgetting the fact for a second that he's five times your size and a walking tank, won't he have his goons to protect him?
>goons with guns
>all you have is this dinky knife
>sure it looked intimidating wielded against you, but when facing an AK?
>you don't even have the skills to throw the bloody thing
>whatever, you'll figure it out
>you have fate in your corner, right?
>what could go wrong?

>eventually the elevator chimes its pleasant tune, signaling your arrival at the top floor
>although to be honest, it might as well be bells toiling for your soul
>carefully, you step outside
>no guards so far
>it's dark too, the only light coming from further inside the penthouse
>the floors here are lined with plush carpeting, and you can't help yourself from trying it out barefoot
>feels heavenly
>there must be floor-heating as well
>if you weren't so on edge, this might feel quite nice
>but in the dead silence of the penthouse, you can't appreciate it all that much
>slowly, ever so slowly you inch your way forward, knife ready in your hand
>if your luck holds, you can just maybe catch Ripley sleeping
>then it'll only take one flick of your knife
>you keep getting closer and closer to the source of the light
>it's coming from behind a door that's cracked open
>you're damn sure that fatass is in there
>pushing your luck to its limits you go on the prowl outside first, looking for a gun or anything useful
>and what do you know, in a drawer right beside a dozen or so Rolexes, there it is
>a Desert Eagle, with golden and silver coating that's about as tasteful as a golden toilet would be
>you put the knife away and pick it up
>it's heavy in your hand
>okay uh, how does it work?
>your gun-knowledge goes no further than the endless hours sunk into cowadoody and cs1.6
>after some searching you find the safety, already off
>boy doesn't that tell you something...
>you have no earthly idea however how to check if it's got bullets
>it feels loaded though
>here's to hoping...
>slightly more confident, you make your way to the door again
>and that's when you hear it
>giggling
>it confuses you at first, but then you realize him having one of those girls up here isn't that much of a shocker
>you listen more, hoping to hear something - *anything* - that will give you the upper hand
>is he on the bed? standing up? tied up during an S&M session?
>but even as several minutes pass, you can't hear him
>it's only this light feminine giggling
>in fact, it's really starting to sound like there are two girls in there
>well, Ripley *is* a wealthy guy so he could afford it, but then where the fuck is he?
>in the crapper?
>or is he already down in the basement to deal with Reed?
>did he find out about Naser?
>you look around once again, but find no more rooms in the penthouse
>out of choices, you return to the door
>okay
>you've got one advantage here, and that's the element of surprise
>okay, the Deagle is some help too
>you can't fuck this up
>kick the door open and then BAM BAM BAM
>or, if you don't immediately see him, tactical bacon
>let's just think of a cool one-liner to shout as you enter
>here goes fucking nothing

>*crash*
>"ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?!"
>...
>instead of a confused and about-to-be-dead ptero patriarch, there's only a couple of girls inside
>they don't even bother getting out of the bed as you burst into the room
>in fact they're so fucking out of it that they just *barely* notice you
>still you keep your gun at the ready, inspecting the room to the very last, minute detail
>it's a girl's room, plain and simple
>there's obviously no space here to hide a monstrous dino like Ripley
>no more doors either
>he's just not here
>confused, you close the door and turn to the girls
>they're both female pterodactyls, and they're both wearing skimpy bunny outfits
>they're vaguely familiar to you, but it takes quite a few seconds to put it all together
>one of them is Ripley's wife, and the other is his daughter
>you've seen them on the news more than a few times
>...this better be a setup for a business partner or something, because you don't even want to consider the possibility of this guy dicking his own daughter
>whoring them out isn't that much better either but...
>they're sufficiently drugged up to service anyone, that's for damn sure
>all the giggling seems to be about a silent movie they're watching on the large screen mounted on a wall
>one of them - Fang, the daughter - grabs your hand and pulls you to the bed
>"Coommmoooonnn nowcomms thebesstt parttt!"
>the other one, her mother - although you don't know her name - takes your other hand in encouragement
>she conveniently doesn't notice the gun you're holding
>maybe she's just too zonked out of her mind to care
>well this situation is... interesting.
>not to make the girls suspicious you do as you're bid, sitting between them on the bed
>they cuddle up to you as if this was the most natural thing in the world
>"Girls, uh... Where's Ripley?"
>"Mmmmmm Dadddddy's not heeeeeerrreeee..."
>"Where is he?"
>"My sweeeeetie piiieeee is taaking carre of busssssi-nesssss-ess-ess-ess..."
>the way they're talking is starting to mildly annoy you
>a damn snail is faster than these two
>and now they're giggling again, like that ess-ess-ess thing was the funniest thing in the world
>although the fact that you did *not* laugh is somehow not lost on them
>looking as annoyed as you feel Fang pokes her finger into your chest
>"Whassur probblem?"
>"Uh, I uh..."
>clumsily as she does, the younger ptero climbs onto your lap, straddling you
>it's incredibly awkward
>what's more awkward is the way her mother joins the pile, like a snake sliding her way onto Fang's back
>before you could blink or basically do anything they get into their supposed roles, and as Fang starts to gently rock her body back and forth, grinding into your lap, so her mother grabs her breasts from behind to push them together
>right in your God damned face
>"Mmmmmmmmm isn't *sssshhhheeee* *juusssst* *beaaauuuuutifulll*? Looook at ttthhhoose tiiiittttsss!"
>you're too fucking afraid to say anything
>but she won't accept that
>as her daughter gets more and more into it, forcibly pitching a certain tent in your pants, her mother gets to slowly, ever so slowly undressing her
>first it's the bunnyhead-shaped bra that drops, if only to reveal the slightest hint of Fang's nipples
>but then as her mother starts unzipping the dress from behind proper, the lower it slides on her lithe body
>Fang seems too preoccupied with making herself feel good to notice or care, moaning louder and louder, her hot breath enveloping your face and neck
>it's all getting better - or worse - as her soft, feathery wings raise to block what little fresh air there was around you
>her mother, not wanting to be left out of the fun snuggles closer again, laying down right next to you to watch her daughter at work
>this is so extremely fucked up you don't even have words to describe it
>and contrary to your shenanigans with Naomi, this time you're not under the influence of any substance and can, unfortunately, feel the weight of how bad this is
>but at the same time, you do not resist whatsoever as the elder ptero puts your palms on Fang's hips
>in fact, you even let the gun drop from your hand
>her scales are hot to the touch, something that, for some reason, you find *incredibly* arousing
>so arousing, actually, that you begin to enjoy the situation
>fuck it
>if Ripley isn't here, why shouldn't you take this opportunity?
>even if he kills you later, what's he gonna do?
>he can't un-fuck his wife and daughter
>and so, you put up no resistance again, allowing the wife to go in for a kiss
>all the while, of course, you keep Fang on your lap, getting in rhythm with her movements
>"Mooooooooom! I wannnteddthe fffirst kissss!"
>the angsty tone of her voice is quite funny to you, absolutely telling of what a spoiled brat Fang must be
>her mother doesn't let go of you for another few seconds though, using her dexterous tongue to explore every last crevice of your mouth
>as she does finally lean back there's a thick strand of saliva connecting the two of you together
>and oh you can certainly taste the drugs now
>you don't know what kind they are, and honestly you'd rather not get high, but it's a sweet taste nonetheless
>there's not a second's pause to catch your breath, and immediately Fang is on you, kissing you with just as much passion as her mother's embrace had
>midst of the heat of the kiss you feel a set of hands - not Fang's, and not yours - opening your Indiana Jones belt buckle
>takes virtually no time for your cock to spring free of its suddenly-too-tight prison, slapping against Fang's nether regions with a meaty whack
>she doesn't really acknowledge it in any way, grinding against it as she has before
>the air is getting astonishingly hot, and a little choking, honestly
>especially as the girls start taking turns making out with you - and occasionally with eachother
>you're not really sure if the knowledge that they're mother and daughter makes this all that much better, or horrifyingly worse
>are they themselves even aware of it *at all*?
>just how badly are they impaired by the drugs?
>and would *that* make it better or worse if they knew?
>a question for the philoshophers, so it seems
>because you're getting no answers here
>but hot ptero tiddy, now that you most definitely are getting
>two of 'em in your face, two of 'em in your hands
>at least that's till both girls suddenly pull away from you, synchronously like clockwork, leaving you both confused and afraid
>you sit up straight, looking for the gun haphazardly left somewhere in the sheets
>turns out, though, this isn't some trick
>just another part of the play, and something that makes you wonder how many times the girls have done this
>they help eachother shed the bunny costumes completely, fusing together briefly for one last kiss, then they both turn their backs to you and...
>how does the saying go?
>face down ass up?
>well it's a lewd display that you, beyond any doubt, where *not* expecting
>both ptero girls are FDAU, behinds held proudly up in the air, and using her clawed hands to invitingly spread themselves for your convenience
>they're both wet as fuck too, positively drenched in their jucies
>the sight is honestly overwhelming
>which one of them do you...?
>how does it...?
>just what do you do in a situation like this?
>you were fine so far letting them take the lead but...
>maybe you should have asked them for drugs while you had the chance
>you scoot over to the girls, awkwardly because your pants still are up knee-high
>okay, you're gonna fuck one for a bit and finger the other, and then you'll change
>that's fair, right?
>at least you think that's what you're gonna do
>but you're not
>what you're gonna do is that you're gonna get a fucking heart attack, hearing the elevator chime echo through the penthouse


VI. Death

>FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK
>there are no words to describe the mach level speed with which you scramble to pull you pants up
>nor for the desperation of your movements as you look for the gun
>the girls don't seem to be understanding what's happening, whining with annoyance that you *still* aren't dicking them down
>it's Fang who loses her temper first, turning back to you and clinging to your pants in an attempt to pull them down again
>soon it becomes a tug of war much like it was between you and her brother
>you can hear indistinct chatter and footsteps closing in to the door
>there's more than one person out there, that's for God damn sure
>at least two dudes, and a women
>it's bad
>it really-really is fucking bad
>by now Fang's mother is onto you as well, joining the fight for the freedom of your manhood
>just how could your world have gotten so fucked-up-backwards that two girls trying to get your pants down is suddenly a bad thing?
>not one second before the door opens do you find the gun, rolling off the bed to get away from those needy bitches
>"...and in here you'll see how potent the new formula is. As a matter of a fact we-"
>you don't want to see who's on the other side
>unless the video games lied about it - and you don't see how that could ever be a thing - you're holding the equivalent of a literal hand cannon
>a measely wooden door won't stop the bullet
>*if* the gun is loaded
>*if*
>BLAM
>taking the shot affects you in four distinct stages
>first, it's the flash that blinds you
>second, it's the loud bang that deafens you
>third, it's the recoil that sends your arms flying above your heard, barely holding onto the gun
>and fourth, the force of the shockwave causes your pants to fall down
>so now blind, deaf, weak at the arms and dick presented to the world, you stand
>soon as you can you take another shot, through what remains of the door - its top-right corner has been clean torn off by the blast
>and then, another, and one more
>you know you have to conserve your ammo, but if it really is Ripley out there, you're not taking any chances
>aiming at the wall next to the door, quite sure that the bullet will go through, you let another one loose
>then, once you feel like all of the bones in your arms are broken and you literally could *not* take another shot, you lower the gun
>your ears are ringing too loud so you have no idea if there's anything happening on the other side
>there doesn't seem to be, not even after a multitude of seconds have passed
>what does that mean?
>are they waiting for you to get out there to ambush you?
>are they dead?
>little bit of column A, little bit of column B?
>...
>still, nothing
>you risk taking the time to get your pants up, and with a frown note that sometime during the last few seconds you did, in fact, shoot more than bullets towards the door
>well, different kinds of bullets
>during the process you try to get as little as the white sticky mess on your fingers as you can, to at least keep the remainders of your dignity intact
>even this mundane action takes longer than it normally would, thanks to how numb your hands are
>more importantly though...
>do you dare go out yet?
>or maybe send the girls?
>wait, are they not spraying the room with bullets cause Fang and Whatshername are in here?
>they're both cooped up a corner away from you, shaking like frightened children
>it's a pathetic fucking sight, and suddenly you have no idea how you could ever have been turned on by these two
>they're little more than animals now, encased in dino flesh, acting purely on impulse and following their training like lapdogs drooling for a treat
>eventually the ringing in your ears subsides, and finally you hear it
>...
>nothing
>a whole bunch of nothing
>if those out there aren't actually laying a trap for you, they're gone
>one way or the other
>"Is anyone out there?!"
>you're not sure what you're expecting
>but you can't stay put
>if even a single one of them got away, then they'll be back with reinforcements
>and that's certainly gonna be the end of the line

>the sight makes your stomach turn, and you can't hold back hurling all over the plush carpet
>your earlier guess was right, there were indeed three of them
>and it doesn't look like any of them got away
>two humans, and a dino
>both of the humans are sporting the bathrobes you've been seeing
>one of them you recognize as staff member from the dorms
>by this point you're not even surprised
>you're no expert, but by the looks of it he took a bullet right in the belly, which practically exploded his insides
>the other one you have no way of identifying, head reduced to a bloodied mess of grue
>the sight and smell of the bodies nauseates you, and if you didn't just empty the contents of your stomach, you'd be vomiting again for sure
>it's one thing to see this stuff in games or the on internet
>but real life... there's nothing that could have prepared you for this
>and it's all made worse by the fact that it's *you* who did this to them
>certainly they were no saints, evidenced by the mere fact that they came here, but...
>those were lives
>at least with Naser it was self defense - mostly
>but these guys, you've practically slaughtered them
>you remember thinking how the eleveator chime could have been bells tolling for you when you entered the penthouse
>you had good reason to think that
>these two didn't know what was gonna happen to them
>again you feel the bile collecting in your throat, and you must look away
>leaning against the wall, you variably puke and dry heave, often on the verge of hyperventillating
>the fit lasts for minutes, though they could very well have been hours to you
>wiping the tears from your eyes afterward, you turn to the last body
>it's actually the first one you saw while leaving the room, but you had to immediately get away from it to throw up
>desecrating a corpse is a thing you *really* don't want to be doing more than once in a lifetime, let alone twice the same day
>what's worse, you're not exactly sure she was dead when you looked at her, because she looked right back at you
>and God fucking dammit was she scared, like she just didn't understand what was happening to her
>what's still *way worse* is that it's another motherfucking student that you knew
>this time, it's more than just passing by them in the hallways
>with this one, you have talked to
>she's the girl Reed dated for a while, the one for whom you gave up your comfry bed those two nights
>she was the reason you have seen Reed in flesh the last time, accompanying them to a date
>you didn't especially like her, but she was okay
>...she used to be good at banter
>miserable as you already are, you feel stangely indebted to her to at least go see her body
>to bear witness
>Trish
>that's her name
>it was, anyway
>now she's just another body left in your wake, a bunch of chalk lines yet to be drawn
>what would have been her last words?
>if only you weren't too much of a pussy to hear them, maybe you'd know
>...
>one of the bullets went through the side her slim neck
>must have been a horrible way to go, choking on her own blood
>she didn't deserve this, even if she did end up working here
>or...
>wait.
>what are you saying?
>fuck that noise!
>she *did* work here
>and apparently she was high enough on the ladder that she could come straight up to the penthouse
>who's to say she's not the one responsible for peddling all those girls from school?
>who's to say she's not Ripley's right hand?
>this *is* his penthouse
>if the dude is okay with drugging and whoring out his own family, and he saw potential in this bitch, then she must have been one fucked up freak too
>could *she* be the reason for Reed's kidnapping?
>yeah. you owe her nothing.
>not even pity
>and those two dudes? predators that made who knows how many people's life Hell?
>yeah, fuck them too.
>you did the right thing, ending their lives.
>and if they suffered, who cares? they surely have deserved it
>you're not a bad person
>leaving this mess behind you go straight for the elevator
>it's still on this floor, meaning that nobody escaped your wrath
>as such you get in and push the button for the minus-ninth floor
>gun in hand, you now *know* you're the righteous force of retribution descending upon Ripley that fate set out you to become
>that's what this is whole thing has been about
>it's a chain of events set into motion what must have been years ago
>you're not a bad person
>you're the herald of a higher power
>even if you killed those people, it wasn't your doing
>you're an instrument delivering the judgement of God on the wicked and false!
>you're not a bad person!

>in at attempt to keep your body at the ready and your mind focused, you do a few jumping-jacks in the elevator as it decends into what could very well be the deepest pits of Hell itself
>this time, it's gonna be a gunfight
>there's just no way around it
>Ripley will sure as fuck have a gun on him, and so will his entourage
>how are you gonna deal with that?
>like yeah being the instrument of God is metal and all, but unless you're blessed with a heavy dose of divine intervention, you'll be a pincushion in a matter of seconds
>well let's hope the elevator will have *at most* one guy guarding it
>you still have the element of surprise here
>one good shot is all it takes, and then maybe you'll loot a better weapon
>you're no commando, but that should at least give you a fighting chance
>...
>just passed the ground floor
>the air is getting noticeably hotter as you go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Earth
>your heart is beating loud as wardrums now
>two more floors to go
>you're not actually sure if they'll be on this floor...
>one more
>...but you have to start the search somewhere, don't you?
>it's kinda stupid that these all buttons have no labels
>...
>*ding ding ding*
>IT'S PARTY TIME


VII. The Tower

>holding the Deagle at eye level, ready for anything, you slowly inch your way out of the elevator
>you don't see anyone in your immediate surroundings
>which consist of a dark tunnel, lined on both sides with heavy machinery that's spewing steam everywhere
>dark might not even be the best word to describe it, because in rhytm with the clouds of steam being emmitted, little flames flicker here and there, giving the corridor this hellish look
>and if you thought it was hot in the elevator, well think again fucko
>you're sweating already
>but what's more important
>there's no-one here
>so what now?
>do you try a different floor?
>maybe you should see what's at the end of the tunnel, first
>there is a light at the end of it
>like literally you can see an open door bathed in pale neon light
>you can't hear anything over the sound of the machines though
>but if there was no guard at the door, that must mean it's safe, right?
>well, relatively safe
>careful not to fall over in the dark, you take a step forward
>only to be immediately proven wrong about the guards
>apparently there *were* guards here, two of them
>but someone got to them before you did
>just... what?
>what happened here?
>you can't see well in this darkness, but they've definitely been shot
>...and no, they don't have any guns on them
>God dammit.
>but who the fuck could have killed them?
>is there like a gang war going on inside the mafia?
>or maybe this is some alphabet agency at work?
>Ripley *is* a big guy
>you feel like you're more interested in seeing what's at the end of the tunnel than you've ever been interested by anything in your life
>carefully making your way through the hot clouds of steam, eventually you arrive at the door
>it leads to a room, no larger than a janitor's closet, and with doors leading in all four directions - one of which has been torn off the hinges
>and it has more dead guys inside it
>except... wait... what's this?
>one of the dead dudes is wearing a costume, that of a stormtrooper
>you vaguely remember seeing them in the main hall, entertaining the guests
>so they were a like sleeper cell or something all along?
>this does strenghten you theory that some organization is out to get Ripley, but...
>what's that mean for you?
>you still have to save Reed
>so if they take Ripley out for you, that's like a win-win scenario, right?
>but who's to say they'll even succeed?
>Ripley must be the veteran of like a hundred battles
>one doesn't *just* become the head of the mafia by accident
>evidenced by this body alone, they're not some A-team hitman group either
>they're fucking Star Wars cosplayers for God's sake
>whatever, maybe they've bought you some time
>maybe they've even managed to wound Ripley
>anything to raise your chances

>well, your chances are pretty damn fucking good so it would seem
>because as you enter the next room after crawling through some more tunnels, decorated with several bodies of both groups, you're presented to a sight that you've never thought you'd behold
>this room is quite large, with columns that sort of remind you of the main hall up on the ground floor
>except this one has a fountain in the middle
>and in it, is Ripley
>dead
>face down floating on the water
>and with several gunshot wounds on his back
>and a knife sticking out of his neck
>and his wings cut the fuck off
>whoever killed him, they weren't fucking around
>the body is still warm, blood flowing freely from his many wounds
>looking at the mafia leader's mutlited body mortifies you on some primordial level
>you thought you have understood the danger you were in
>but no, you haven't
>everyone *knows* that getting caught by the mafia means certain death
>but at the same time everyone has this glimmer of hope that...
>maybe, just maybe, they can talk their way out of it
>you're dealing with people, after all
>surely, there's a way you can get them to spare your life
>it's a fantasy everyone believes in to make their lives just a little less scary
>what's more, you've defiantly overcome every challenge here tonight
>you really did start to feel like a hero, or the instrument of whatever yadda-yadda
>but faced with the death that surrounds you, cruel with intention, you don't know anymore
>you thought you're fighting people here
>with souls dark as the devil's, sure, but *people*
>whoever did this is a monster
>your whole body is shaking now
>hands heavy as if they were made of lead
>feet unable to move like those of a statue
>but you know you have to go on
>if you're in bigger danger now, that means Reed is too
>you're the only chance he's got

>there are two doors in this room
>the one you came in, and the one you exited through
>again you're in a tunnel, encased with machines on both sides
>shivering still, you can barely feel the heat they produce
>you're not alone, however
>in fact, there are three in the tunnel
>and you know the other two
>one of them, your damsel in distress
>your bro of bros
>the guy who gives meaning to your life
>Reed
>he's tied to a chair, and appears to be unconscious
>even in this darkness you can see the number they did on him
>and the other one, taking his last few steps to get to Reed
>it's the monster
>it's the dark queen you've seen once already, minutes after you've entered this fortress
>Darth fucking Vader
>seems like you've caught up to him just in time
>he inspects you from your Spongebob flip-flopped feet to your Indiana Jones hatted head
>without hesitation, you aim the gun at him, anticipating an attack
>an attack that just doesn't seem to come
>he turns to Reed, and then back to you
>...?
>what's the deal with this guy?
>he's no attacking you, but...
>there *is* a pistol holstered on his hip
>should you take the shot just to be safe?
>you've killed so many people today, what's another one to add to the list?
>does he even have a soul, this monster?
>the fact that you can't even see his face is so unnerving
>your finger on the trigger twiches, and in fact so does your entire body
>Reed is *right there*
>you *can* save him
>this is why you're here
>this is why you've done all those horrible things tonight
>all it would take is one singular bullet
>but...
>this guy isn't a threat
>why?
>why isn't he a threat?!
>if only he did something, *anything*, then you'd be justified to pull the trigger
>"DO SOMETHING"
>"COME ON ATTACK ME"
>"DO IT"
>once again, perhaps seeing your hesitation, he turns to your friend, and then back to you
>"I do not want to fight you, An-on."
>whuh... wha-wait!
>how does he know your name?
>and holy fuck that was a woman's voice!
>your rage, insuperable as you thought is was, is at once overcome by confusion
>you can't do anything but watch with your jaw on the floor as Lady Vader slowly takes her mask off
>as it falls, you see what's definitely a woman's face
>a dino woman, but a woman nonetheless
>should you be even surprised that it's a face you know?
>not the name that goes with it, but you do know her as that one Mexican chick
>Reed's been infatuated with her since junior year, never to become more to her than an eavesdropper to a conversation
>or so you thought
>but seeing her kneel down before Reed, carefully lifting his head and going in for a kiss...
>...you feel like you know nothing anymore
>this certainly cannot be real
>no, you must have died somewhere along the way, and this is just a vision or something
>maybe Naser got you
>maybe Naomi threw you over the railing
>or maybe you're still back home, dreaming all this up
>if you shot yourself in the head now, would you wake up back in your shitty dormroom?
>it's been back then that all this begun, hasn't it?
>your premonition?
>maybe it didn't happen
>maybe none of this happened
>all the significance you've felt within you till now, it fades in an instant
>you're no action-hero
>you're no champion of fate
>can you even say you're Reed's friend?
>he certainly didn't feel the need to tell you about his newest girlfriend
>of all the things you've gone through tonigh, *that* is the betrayal that cuts deepest
>silent, you watch as Lady Vader undoes Reed's bonds, and he slowly awakens
>they fall into eachother's arms, hugging and kissing happily
>as if you weren't even there
>no... this...
>this is wrong...
>*you* came here to save Reed, not her!
>this is *your* moment!
>*your* bro!
>even if you mean nothing to the world, you should mean everything to him!
>in a totally non-gay-way
>...
>"Oh BRO! I totally didn't see you there!"
>...
>"Yeah, um..."
>"Dude! Anon! You came all this way for me?"
>"Y-Yeah?"
>"Man that's...! I can't believe it!"
>you can practically feel your soul tearing in half
>amazing as it is to hear his voice, his words...
>none of this is right
>shouldn't he be all about getting the fuck outta here?
>why does it feel like you're the only one who doesn't know what's going on?
>"Are you okay, did they...?"
>"Oh they beat me plenty, but it's all good."
>"All good?"
>"Yeah, like... According to plan?"
>"...Plan?"
>he thinks on that for a moment, ushering Lady Vader closer to you
>"Meet Rosa!"
>"Hello, An-on!"
>"Uh... Hi?"
>you have no idea what's going on anymore
>"You see, Anon, Rosa has some... Connections."
>"Sí! Mi Papa es the head of the cartel down south."
>"Uh... So...?"
>she opens her mouth to explain, but Reed takes over
>"So we though, you know, we'd expand the territory."
>"Wha-What?"
>"Come on dude! We've been everyone's punching bag long enough! Don't you hate how you're not invited to any parties? Invisible to all the girls?"
>"Well... I..."
>"But *now* we'll be the gurus around here! You and me pal! We're gonna take it all!"
>"I..."
>"What, you wanted Ripley to stay? That asshole had to go! That's, you see, where my sweetest Rosa comes into play!"
>"Así es! We are gonna run this operation!"
>"Yeah man! So you want in or what? It's gonna be totes freaking awesome dude!"
>even with his burst lip and blackeye Reed smiles wide at you
>what they're saying is tempting, but...
>you look at Rosa, and then at Reed
>and then at your right hand, and then the left
>in one of them, you have the gun
>the gun you wanted to use to save Reed
>and indeed, you have
>you've overcome every challenge, every adversary
>your quest is complete, and now you can reap your due reward
>...but your other hand
>on it still is the makeshift bandage Stella put up
>and it reminds you that you didn't want to use that gun *just* to save Reed
>its intended purpose was to bring justice
>*your* intended purpose was to bring justice
>could you stand by, watch the cartel take over this business, only so that you can get your cut?
>you'd be living like a king, but...
>you're reminded of how you felt up there on the twentieth floor, looking down at the dorm building
>that feeling of insignificance, you could once and for all part with it
>but at what cost?
>...
>you might have become a rapist and a murderer today, but...
>you're not a monster.
>you're not a bad person.
>all of the events that happened today and when you where a child, the events yet to pass when you'll be an old man, present, past, and future culminating here and now to crystal clearly tell just what it is *you* are.


VIII. Judgement

>with killer intent, you raise your gun once again
>"Whoah! Whoah! Dude! What are you-"
>"I AM THE INSTRUMENT OF FATE"
>you can't believe you'd ever be able to hurt your bro, and yet...
>words flood from your mouth in a string you're unable to stop
>backing away from you with haste, Reed grabs the gun from Rosa's hip
>"THE AVATAR OF GOD"
>with every other syllable you take a step forward, the two dinos fleeing before you
>there are tears in your eyes
>you don't want to be doing this
>you cannot do this
>but nobody else can make this right
>"THE RADIANT EMBODIMENT OF LIGHT"
>Reed now plants his feet, shielding Rosa from you
>while your eyes are wet with tears, his burn with anger
>his betrayal of you is complete
>years of friendship, thrown away
>"AND YOU"
>his soul has been corrupted
>he is everything you've been sent here to destroy
>you're within arm's reach of him now, shoving your golden gun is his face just as he shoves his in yours
>"ARE"
>it's your resposibility
>to redeem the souls of those gone, and save the souls of those still slaves to this place
>"A"
>but he's your bro!
>how could you ever hurt your bro!
>but if you don't will he...?
>"SINNER"
>there's but a second's pause before a shot rings out
>you're not a bad person
>




B-B-B-B-Bonus chapter!
If you need your fuzzy-wuzzy-feely-fix to calm down, this should lighten the mood. Pussy.

IX. The Hermit

>"Is that all?"
>"Y-Yes, officer."
>"Thank you ma'am. You may leave now."
>you may leave...
>but how could you?
>not until you know that boy got out
>he saved your life!
>just what was he thinking, going up against the mob?
>but...
>he did it, didn't he?
>you saw them load Ripley's body into one of those huge black bodybags
>you saw Trish and Naser and a dozen more bodies
>was he one of them?
>and Naser... Gosh...
>you can still feel the blade in your hand slipping between his muscles, tearing tendons and ligaments and whatever else
>you don't know if you'll ever be able to forget that horrible, horrible feeling
>...
>maybe you should ask one of the officers if they've seen a bald human around? with a cut on his arm?
>but if they haven't, you don't want to accidentally rat him out
>could he have gotten away in time?
>maybe you'll see him at school sometime
>sheesh... after all that's happened, and you don't even know his name...
>but you do know he's made tomorrow just a little brighter
>yeah, yeah, you'll have to look for a job now, but pretty much anything and everything will be better than what you've been forced to do these past few months
>there's that noodle shop you've always liked, maybe they're hiring?
>could you even go back to a normal life after all this?
>it's a terrible burden that boy took upon his shoulders
>was helping him really the right thing?
>you were going with the flow more than anything back there...
>the result speaks for itself, though, but wouldn't it have been better for him to just leave?
>could he have made the ultimate sacrifice?
>for you?
>you don't even know if that would make you feel better or worse
>you do worry about him, you really do, but...
>he *is* a murderer
>sure his victims were bad people, but killing is just wrong
>...then again you're here now, free at last, because of his actions
>...
>maybe he wasn't such a bad person after all