Christopher Jackson
Stories
5
Chapters
2,224
Words
1.9 M
Comments
0
Reading
6 d, 16 h
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“Uhhh...” Darren looked at his daughter in dismay. “I mean... Samantha, you’re ten years old.” “I’m as physically fit as any hyn alive, and I can make Four at any time. If I can hit Five, these bastards don’t really stand a chance.” She glanced at him calmly. “Papa, I have never showed this side of me to you, but I am a very dangerous person, and this kind of thing is what I was literally born to do. I did not want it to come now, I wanted to wait until things progressed, and enjoy my…-
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She could smell the wolf in the air faintly... obviously the girl slept here in more comfort, and got out when the change was coming over her. Purse. Sama zeroed in on it, emptied it on the half-made bed, and snatched up the identification, and the tags she wasn’t wearing. Hafsa Puyroguv. The sheriff’s name was John Puyroguv. His daughter? Niece? Close enough. Dead now... It looked like she’d been binging on movies and books and magazines. Sama eyed the spread of them, noting that the fashion and…
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They reached the top of the ridgeline quickly, the horse following nimbly enough. As this area was a little rough, the horses followed behind their riders as they made their way along the ridge. “Chomps, any scents?” Sama asked calmly, touching the Alsatian mix. He growled and whined softly, and she just nodded. “She did not come this way, Papa. Let us go to the overlook, where Cujo is waiting. Chomps, let him know where we are.” The dog promptly burst out with a long, rising howl that was like a…
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“Is it dead?” Sama asked the dogs, calmly reloading and sidling sideways to get a better angle. They cautiously approached the motionless thing, growling hard, and sniffed it all over. When they slowly straightened up and wagged their tails, Sama finally relaxed. “LIGHTS!” she shouted. The house lit up in seconds, while Josiah came through the front door, a short spear gleaming silver in his hands, while their mother and her older sister Nancy came out with a rifle up and revolver out,…
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“The dogs can follow the corpse back where it came from. You don’t really think a dead thing wandered ten miles over a ridge line and through the forest to here, do you, Papa? It would go downhill and follow the terrain. That leads away to the northeast. The only way it would end up here is if something dragged it up to the hills so it would follow the slopes down when it woke up.” Her father’s face was getting flinty. She had gently prodded him over the years to keep up with his shooting and…
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The conveyor she’d built rumbled to life with speed, and corn seed began to spew into the back of the farm’s main truck, with two others borrowed from neighbors waiting to take up the rest of the load. The owner of the granary wasn’t too pleased to see them pumping in seed to their trucks at the same time as he was filling his silos for the farmers in the area to buy, but he couldn’t do anything about it. They were using their own equipment and trucks on the service road, just keeping pace with…
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She didn’t know what the odds were that she’d be brought back to a life on a farm in Idaho, of all places, but just counted her blessings and got to playing the precocious yet very serious little sister. She had been bluntly told what would happen to her when she reached the age for the Hag Curse. Hag transformations weren’t just of the mind, but the body. So she’d get a static equivalent of whatever a Rantha Hag was, probably get somewhat older, have the exact same physical ability scores all of…
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Sama opened her eyes, and stared at the thing leering over her in the dark. It wasn’t much taller than she was, but the difference was that it was a fully grown fey of the phage sort, that could move around and get into and out of places that it shouldn’t have. It was built like a stick, with a leering nose, flappy bat ears, wild hair, needled teeth, and exaggerated nails on its hands. She’d heard it messing around in the walls and conduits at nights, scratching subtly after her parents were…
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“You can do it?” I raised an eyebrow at Briggs’ question. “You can raise the Haze? Break the Shrouds?” Briggs continued. “Once I Level and get Geared, yes.” “You’re certain?” “There’s no goddamn way just they can stop me, yes.” His big fists popped, and he looked at Master Fred, who had a similarly grimly expectant look on his face. “HOT DAMN. Getting an experienced PoT gamer with magic is going to make such a goddamn difference. I swore I’d find some way to bring down the…
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“Shard of-? Ringlord? Aelryinth?” he tripped out, eyes falling to my hand. “Is that a working Ring?” He stared despite himself. “Yes.” I narrowed my eyes. “And I know the ‘real’ Briggs from the game, who looks very similar to you. Do you know where his/your sister was attending college?” His mouth opened and worked a moment. “No...” he admitted. “Were you born with full knowledge of Briggs from the game?” I further pressed. “Yes.” His massive hands crackled on the hilt…
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