Chapter 57

Green Pines Cemetery, Etson - 10:24 AM

The lackadaisical nature of my method of travel, the Heelies of Hermes, allowed me to keep an eye out for things on my way to my destination. I paid attention to my surroundings despite my worry. The populace was doing better than they were a few days ago when I took the trip to Stanley. On my way to the interstate back then I had to help a few people from afar, but everyone I saw on the way to the dungeon were holding their own.

Despite that, corpses of both monsters and people littered the streets. Neither were safe from smaller carrion monsters that survived on the corpses of the fallen. Those took up many forms, though the most common in cities and rural areas were rats and insects. I could see quite a few here, but I didn’t bother with them; corpses meant diseases, and they didn't give enough points to be considered worth the expenditure. Unlike normal monsters like the Trats that gave two points each, these took several to gain even one. I passed by them without any trouble, avoiding real monsters in my rush to reach my destination.

Green Pines Cemetery was tucked away in one of the more rural parts of Etson. It was one of the oldest cemeteries in the city which made it high on Francis' visit list. What threw me off was Thomas' willingness to entertain the young man.

Whatever he thought of me, Thomas took my warnings seriously after seeing how accurate my maps were. The abundance of Red Scarves, items that increase health by 10%, proved that. My guess was that John was the culprit; Gloria had said he was "surprisingly excited" about it.

John was Thomas' best friend, so it made sense that the Citizen's Justicar would give more weight to his words. Had the confrontation in the tutorial zone over Kayla left him more upset than I thought? I hadn't hurt him physically, but I had hurt his pride. It would take more than a potion to heal that kind of wound.

I crossed the threshold of the cemetery and pushed that thought to the back of my mind. It wasn’t a large patch of land and the gravestones were weathered with age, but the grass was barely overgrown. The grounds keeper had done a good job keeping it tidy and it would have stayed that way if it weren’t for the literal apocalypse happening.

My destination was in the far corner from where I entered. A small, black stone building stood amongst the aged stones around it. This was an addition by the system for the dungeon below. The mausoleum was unadorned aside from a single plaque hanging on the stone door. Mathias Gray, Arsonist, death by hanging, 1892-1920. Not much was known about Mathias Gray, according to Francis, but there had been records and folklore enough to pin him as the supposed ghost of the cemetery.

When I tried to open the door, it resisted. It didn’t even budge. “Fuck!” I yelled. Some dungeons were open to the world like the Safari Resort when it was still occupied by the Kingtin. Anybody could come in and try their hand at it if they were brave enough. Dungeons like the Mausoleum of the Arsonist were different because the enemies inside respawned between players.

Even if you defeated the ghost of Mathias Gray, the dungeon would continue to populate itself with monsters. After a 24 hour period, the dungeon boss would respawn as well. A lot of people had thought that this would be an easy way to gain points, but quickly gave up on that endeavor. The first time you beat a boss in a respawning dungeon you would get full points and loot. The second time, you would get half points and a second skill book, and the third time you wouldn’t get any points or loot at all. It was set up so that a person wouldn’t be able to monopolize the dungeon’s time.

Because of the nature of the dungeon, the front door wasn’t an option. There were already people inside. Luckily for me, I knew the trick to breaking in.

Near the mausoleum was an empty grave with a shovel at the bottom. I didn’t think this was something that the system had purposefully set up, but instead left behind by the grounds keeper when every thing happened. After all, why would the system want one of its players to break it in such a way? Jumping into the hole, I grabbed the shovel and began to dig in the corner closest to the mausoleum.

Another big rule of a respawning dungeon was that you couldn’t leave until it was finished. There were ways around this, but they were circumstantial at the best of times. If you managed to break through the thick stone door and walked out, you would be teleported back to the entrance just a few feet behind you. No one would be able to enter due to an invisible barrier, and any time you left the same thing would be sent back. But, through some kind of oversight, that protection was only placed on the front door.

The shovel shifted as I hit stone after digging down another foot and a half. I cleared away the dirt to see uneven black bricks underneath. Throwing the shovel into my inventory, I pulled out a wedge and hammer I had acquired from Henry Stasman’s workshop. Falling to my knees, I worked fairly quickly to place the wedge around the thick bricks and struck it with the hammer. If I weren’t worried for the tool I would have used Drop to help, but the hammer was already strained from my monstrous 20 strength. Through a delicate process, I managed to remove four bricks and the one directly underneath it.

Underneath this layer, the bricks were far less uniform to match the interior decor of an undead infested tomb. I used Drop on one of the stones I could see and it fell away. The inside of the dungeon was dark although I could see perfectly fine due to my Clear Eyes skill. A repugnant burning smell quickly reached my nostrils as a blast of humid air reached me. Ignoring it, I reached into the hole. My arms scraped against the stone but I pushed through. Bricks dislodged as I laid on the ground, shoulder deep in the hole I made.

[[Notice]]

You have entered The Mausoleum of the Arsonist.

I pulled my hand out of the hole and stood up, brushing the dirt off of my clothes.

[[Notice]]

You have left The Mausoleum of the Arsonist. Returning player to entrance in five seconds.

“Anthony?”

Turning to the sound of the voice, I released a relieved breath as I saw Francis running towards me. Behind him were Thomas, John, Jess, and a few others. They had ridiculous looking water wings on their arms that I recognized came from the aquatic center down the road. Those would protect them from fire damage and make the dungeon a little easier. It was smart of them to decide to go there first, even if it wouldn’t mean anything if Francis started throwing fire around everywhere.

“I came to tell you n-“ My cut my words off as my environment changed. No longer was I standing in an unfinished grave, sun cascading through the leaves as I saw the people I had come to save start running towards me. Instead, I was in a small unlit room with a single staircase descending into the ground. The air was hot and humid, and the smell of rotting flesh cloyed the air. I ran down the staircase where a single beam of light shone through the ceiling.

“Francis! Are you up there?” I called loudly.

The beam of light disappeared as I heard someone jump into the hole. “I’m here, Anthony, what happened to you?”

I pointed up at the ceiling, not even sure if he could see me in the dark. “Under no circumstances are you allowed to come in here, Francis,” I said sternly. “None. You do not enter the Mausoleum of the Arsonist.”

A silent moment passed between us. “Did you hear we were coming here and rush over?”

“Damn right I did! You coming in here saying you have some kind of purifying flame magic would have made things a hundred times worse. This is a flaming ghost spirit in a dungeon, not something to go testing new powers on!”

“Anthony,” I heard Thomas call. “Who told you we were out here?”

“I went to the resort looking for you and spoke to Gloria, Thomas. Why the hell did you disregard my warning on the map? Three skulls and the words danger and ghost. Three skulls, man!”

“We weren’t going to go if there wasn’t anything special at the aquatic center,” Thomas huffed. “Francis warned us that the ghost was probably an arsonist, so John figured we’d get something down the road to help. And we did, it just took us a while.”

“Dammit, man! I write this shit down for a reason,” I yelled. “Never try to fight incorporeals if you can help it unless you have a specific weapon. Yes, I know you think you have Francis, but, just, dammit. You would have been stuck in here until the boss is beaten, did you know that?” Taking a few breaths of nasty air, I put my hands on my hips and stepped away from the hole.

“You okay, dude?” Francis asked.

I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t admit that. Stress welled up inside me and I could feel the Regression Imbalance working in my mind. A few more breaths, then I spoke again. “I’m fine. I’m going to complete the dungeon.”

“Oh, it’s three skulls for us but you can just complete the dungeon, huh?” John asked.

“Yes, asshole, I can just complete the dungeon,” I growled. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the most powerful player in Etson.”

“You are?” a small voice asked from the stairs.

“Shut up, kid, you’re full of yourself,” John replied, though I wasn’t paying him any attention.

My eyes had turned towards the entrance. Standing on the stairs was a child, around seven or so, hugging himself and shaking uncontrollably. He was incredibly dirty, his clothes and hair sticking to his skin and tear stains down his cheeks. Scared yet hopeful brown eyes stared down the hallway. He wasn’t able to pinpoint where I was in the darkness.

“You know, just because you-“

“Hey, give me a minute, there’s a kid down here,” I said, cutting John off.

“There’s a what?” Thomas asked.

“I’m going to come closer to you, okay?” I asked the child softly before approaching. My footsteps were very loud in the enclosed hall, causing him to flinch, but he didn’t scramble back. I squatted down in front of him. “I’m here with you. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Charlie,” the child whispered.

I adjusted the volume of my voice to match his. “Hey, Charlie, my name is Anthony. What are you doing down here, bud?”

“M-my family came in,” he stuttered. “We was running because we saw a big truck chasing people and the door was open and we came in. It shut behind us.” That meant he had to be in here for at least a day or two, the poor child. If he hadn’t left the entrance, then the enemies wouldn’t have come searching for him. He was physically safe from the monsters, but being stuck here had other issues.

“Okay, Charlie, I’ve got some food and water for you,” I said as I pulled out a bottle of water and a jar of peanuts from my inventory. The dining car on the train renewed itself every night so I always grabbed a few items to go. It was more for snacks and hydration, but after this I should probably prepare some actual food to take with me. Regardless of the subpar meal, he tore into it as I resumed my questioning. “Eat slowly, okay? How many people were with you?”

“My mom, dad, and uncle.”

“And how long have you been down here, Charlie?”

He hesitated. “Iunno, I cried myself to sleep after they left me by the door. Said it was safer.” As if reminded that time had passed, his stomach growled even as he filled it with water and peanuts.

“Anthony, what’s going on down there?” Thomas asked again.

“There’s a kid,” I replied. “His name is Charlie, and his family ran in here when they saw the Writhing Juggernaut chasing after someone. He said they went deeper in, leaving him at the door.”

I heard Thomas swear. “What do you need us to do?”

“Can someone stay here by the hole and keep him company?” I asked. “The dungeon’ll take me half an hour tops, depending on circumstances. It’s a lot of time, but-“

“Yeah, we’ve got him,” Thomas replied quickly. “You hurry up and be safe, we’ll watch for the door to open and help him get out.”

“Thank you, Thomas. The dungeon won’t prevent you from leaving if the boss is taken down like it normally would, so you can come and go once the door’s open.”

“We got him,” he repeated.

I looked back at Charlie. “You hear that? My friends are going to stay here and talk to you while I go and get this dungeon door open. You can stay here and hang out with them.”

“But you might go missing, too,” the child mumbled around a mouthful of food, looking at the ground. Fear laced his voice and I understood what he really wanted to say but couldn’t. My family is dead now, and you might be, too.

“No, no, I’ll be fine. You want to know something cool?”

“Yeah.”

“That big truck monster was called the Writhing Juggernaut. Big, mean monster. That’s what made your family run in here and,” I paused for dramatic effect. “And I’m the one who killed it.”

Charlie thought this over for a moment. “So you’re super strong?”

“The super strongest,” I said.

“He’s the real deal, kid,” Francis called from above. “My name is Francis. Your name is Charlie, right?”

“Yeah,” he said to the hole in the ceiling. Light filtered through again as the group moved away from it. Charlie put himself directly under it, staring up into the sky.

“Our friend Anthony has to go, but I’m going to stay here with you. My sister, Jess, is a bit bothered by everything but she’s going to wait by the entrance and get you once it’s open.”

“I’m not bothered, Frank,” Jess scolded from somewhere farther away.

“Nice, even tones, sis,” he chastised gently.

“Thanks, Francis,” I said. Standing up, I pulled my Vague Stick out of my inventory but left it in the form of a quarterstaff. “I’m going off, Charlie. You’re going to hear a lot of noise coming from the hall but don’t worry. Once it starts getting really hot in here, that’s when you know I’ll almost be done.”

“Okay,” Charlie mumbled around food.

“What do we say to the nice man, Charlie?” Francis asked.

“Thank you, Mr. Anthony.”

“You’re welcome, bud.” I rustled Charlie’s hair before turning towards the long hallway and walking off. First stop on the undead gauntlet? Skeletons, easy prey.