Chapter 1

Kest was practically skipping down the street of the hive city. The crowds and traffic ebbed and flowed like a sea of flesh, fabric, and metal. The smog clouds overhead rolled and churned, threatening foul rain. Yet Kest didn't care if he got home smelling of sewage and chemicals. He'd found a new prize for his strange collection. His collection of ancient physical media, filled to the brim with the weird and freaky.

Kest turned down an old alley, hurrying past trash cans overflowing with refuse to stop at the door of an old, abandoned electronics store and cafe. The now long-dead, broken sign above the door read Ever-Bright Line-Time in a cartoonish array of neon tubes that now hung, listing to one side. Kest gripped the broken handle of the door, pushing the lever down as he lifted the door up a full inch. It was his anti-intruder system. The door was jammed inside the frame with its top hinge only half-screwed into the wall but reinforced to resist breakage. Along the edges, Kest had installed simple raise-latches at the top and bottom of the door and frame every few inches. Don't lift the door, and it was stuck. Lift the door too high, and it wouldn't open either. No one knew the exact method to open the door but Kest, not even the few guests he had invited over.

Kest stepped inside and sealed the door behind him as the rain started to fall. He hurried past the shelves of scrap electronics, the space only lit by the occasional flickering neon sign, no two matching in style or color. The majority of the space was thick with shadows, but Kest preferred it that way. He'd never been one for bright light, finding comfort in darkness when he wasn't at a lit screen or in deep-dive. Kest hurried to the back room, where he'd set up his battle station of computers and equipment for his hobbies and side gigs. He carefully set the disk case on top of his server tower before booting up his equipment and hurrying back to the kitchen. With excited motions, Kest unwrapped a Major Mac synth-beef and cheese burrito and microwaved it without a paper plate. While the Lumina Myst Crystal that produced the radiation bombarded the frozen meal, Kest moved to the fridge and plucked a cheap beer from the door. The microwave let out a solemn buzz and Kest collected his meal, bouncing the burrito in one hand from the scalding heat. While he walked back to his battle station, Kest cracked open his beer with his teeth just in time to flop into his ratty lawn chair. His large holo-screens glowed, hovering in the air before him as he set down his beer and took a bite from his dinner. He breathed out around the hot mouthful in a 'hoo hoo, haa haa' fashion even as he picked up his prize to inspect it again with pride.

It was an ancient plastic case from the early Age of Data, when digital information was only starting to be developed and understood. The case contained a small Magnetic Resonance Disk, or MRD, that could've contained anything from music to a video to a game. But it was the cover that said it all. The cover portrayed a grainy image of an emaciated hand clutching a bleeding playing card. The card was the Ace of Spades with a disturbing eye in the center. Blood seeped from the edges of the card and the corners of the gray-yellow eye. There was no label or title on the chipped case or the faded image.

Rumors had been circling around this thing across the net for centuries. A game, made by a disturbed man, rumored to have been haunted and tormented by something beyond explanation. Some called it Forbidden Solitaire, while others called it Dead Man's Hand. What it was called was of little consequence to Kest; he knew what it was and was giddy with the platinum-quality find he'd stumbled across at the strange antique shop.

According to the rumors, the game was a cross between solitaire and poker with a few extra mechanics and a deeply disturbing story. The story was told through images and short videos the creator had developed from things he claimed to have experienced in his real life. But that wasn't where the rumors surrounding the game had stopped. There were only eight hundred and eighty-eight copies, and almost all of them had been destroyed or confiscated by corporations and governments. Most reports from players of the game reported it being glitchy and prone to crashing if you pulled any moves the program couldn't anticipate. Between those reports and those of the disturbing content, the game didn't sell well and was avoided by many. However, there were reports of certain players making it almost to the end of the game, but things in each player's life got weird, spooky, and even dangerous. Many wrote panicked posts about something 'coming for them' before they simply vanished from the net. Plenty of spook-bags on the net said that the game was cursed and something had stalked and killed anyone who got deep enough into the game. Some said that beating the game was the only way to survive, while others said that beating the game was what could end up killing the player.

Kest heard rumors like that all the time and found that everything he'd gotten his hands on with them was disturbing but mostly bogus. He collected all kinds of 'dark media' just to see how screwed it was and had made a pastime of researching, hunting, and experiencing them before posting his findings to MeTube, a video streaming site on the LSN for all kinds of content creators. Kest admittedly only had a few dozen followers, but they were loyal, and many had become some of his only friends.

Kest pulled up a few videos on MyTube about the nameless game for some last-minute research before making his first post while he finished his dinner. Lord Shoggoth and Sinister101 had some interesting details he'd already found but was happy to have verified, though neither of them had actually found a copy of the game.

Kest popped the last bite of his burrito in his mouth and chugged the last few swigs of his crappy beer before booting up his recording program and setting his usual visual background for his videos. As Kest's screen displayed a backdrop of dark, haunted woods with rolling fog lit by a cheap Torch-Light beam, he cleared his throat and rolled his neck to get out a few kinks. After he clicked the record button, Kest sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers like some mad genius.

"Greets and welcome, spooks. As usual, thank ya'll for comin' back for more, because I've got somethin' special for you." Kest reached over and plucked the Dead Man's Hand case from his server top and held it up to his camera. "I've gotten my hands on something particularly disturbed today." Kest held the cover closer to the camera for a long moment before setting the case down. "Now, I haven't plugged into it yet, but I think I may have found the Mad Titan's chalice with this one. If you don't recognize the cover, I don't blame you. There's almost no images of it circling the net, and most get stripped from the LSN inside of days. Some of you might know it as The Nameless Game. Some might know it by Forbidden Solitaire. But I think I'll be calling it by the creeping name of Dead Man's Hand." Kest held up one of his hands and rolled the fingers in an imitation of a distinctly creepy wave.

"Like I said, I haven't slotted the thing yet, but I have some pretty high hopes. Hopefully better than those dreck-tier Albert the Hunter vids that were clearly false. I mean, they didn't even use real blood." Kest threw his hands up in the air in irritation before resting them in his lap and leaning forward to give the camera a menacing smile. "But I've found some juicy nuggets of knowledge about the thing before I get started, and I thought I should share them before I dig into this horror-show. Shout-out to Lord Shoggoth for finding some age-old news articles about a series of suicides and vanishings rumored to be tied to the game back when it was first released." Kest licked his lips in eager anticipation. "Combine that with a bit of data from Sinister101, we find out that only eight hundred and eighty-eight were published. Only about eighty-eight copies were bought or stolen. The rest were said to be destroyed, but rumors say otherwise. Now, those eighty-eight went missing and left behind either corpses with undisclosed reasons and causes or missing persons filings. After the release of the game, the company that published it was terminated for unknown reasons, and the game's only creator vanished, leaving behind only a strange piece of paper with an even stranger symbol on it at his desk. Oh! And did I mention that symbol was drawn in blood?" Kest wore a mad grin as he pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "That's some serious spook factor. And who knows, maybe this will be the cursed media I've been looking for." Kest put his index finger on the tip of his nose. "You all know I have a nose for these things. I'll leave it here for now, and I'll get back to ya'll after I play for a session or two. Till then, Creeps out!"

Kest killed the recording before moving back to the kitchen to fetch another beer. As he sat back down at his desk, he took a sip before setting down the drink to collect an ancient disk reader and hook it up to his rigged data translator. With the device set up, Kest pulled the blank disk free from its case and inserted it into the reader. He booted a virtual machine to run the program, the screen displaying a generic sky background with a user interface that felt stiff and janky compared to modern systems.

Kest pulled up the system for the disk reader and clicked on the game's blank program image. The screen flashed white twice before settling into the intro video of a cackling skull bleeding from the eyes, its jaw unhinging to hold the banner name of the publishing company 'Crimson Cackle Games'. The graphics were grainy and rough, clearly showing the game's age. The screen flashed white once more before displaying a freeze frame with script dialogue running along the bottom. The image was of the old stereotypical gentleman adventurer, dressed in tan expedition clothes under a metal breastplate. The image showed the man from behind, a walking stick in one hand, a map in the other, and a crossed rifle and sword across his back. The character stood before a dirt road leading into clearly haunted woods.

The text below the image read, "You are a brave but weary adventurer, seeking lost and forgotten power. You have heard rumors of such power being locked away deep in the Dreadwoods. A haunted and loathsome place."

Kest clicked his mouse, the ancient tech still feeling awkward in his hand despite years of practice. The image flashed to another frame with fresh text. This image was a close-up of the road-head, this time flanked by two signs, one wooden and rotting, the other metal and rusted. The wooden sign read "Beware the Dreadwood! Danger ahead!" The metal sign read " DANGER!! Black Threat Zone ahead! Do Not Enter!" The text under the image read "Horrors and nightmares await ahead. Many have walked this path before in days long past. Do you have the courage to press ahead? Do you have the strength and wit to survive?"

Kest clicked again, and the game began. No game title screen. No new game and load game buttons. Kest gave a huff of interest at the strange jump but pressed on. There were no instructions, just stacks of playing cards arranged around the screen with a hand of his own playing cards at the bottom. Five cards sat as if being held by a player, with a deck to draw from beside the player's hand.

Kest tested a few things before figuring out the basics of the game. Much like classic solitaire, he had to match a card from his hand with a card on the field to remove the two, each vanishing in a slash of gore. After using a card, another from the deck beside the player's hand could replace it. After a few failed matches, Kest got a feel for the game, quickly discovering that there were various kinds of joker cards with various effects that were themed after spells and martial weapon techniques to alter the field or his hand to give him an edge.

Kest quickly cleared the first table, and the cards vanished with a flash to reveal another freeze frame. This image was a first-person perspective of the player walking up the road. The text read, "The road will be long and hard. You must steel your nerves for the horrors ahead if you are to survive." Something felt off about the image. Kest couldn't put his finger on it, but it felt like something was watching him from the image. He leaned in close to inspect the screen more closely, but he couldn't find anything among the trees, rocks, and fog.

Kest clicked again, and the next game board came up, the background an image from further up the dirt trail. He beat it with little trouble and moved on. The next image gave him the sense of being watched even more intensely. The trees looked thicker, the wood darker, the rocks larger and more jagged. The text read, "A growing sense of unease sets in as you climb the trail. As if something dark and hungry is watching you."

Kest raised a brow at the message and leaned in even closer to the screen. As he scoured the image, he found two things. First, he found a pair of glowing dark red eyes peering just over a rock, partly obscured by the fog in the image. The second was a strange symbol branded onto one of the trees beside the dirt road. Kest pointed an accusing finger at the eyes with a muttered, "I see you."

As if in response, the screen glitched for an instant, flashing with a dark red tint, sections of the image displacing. The barely visible eyes flashed yellow for that instant, giving the sense that they had blinked at him. The glitch was there and gone in a heartbeat. Kest sat back in his chair, licking his lips in a nervous habit as he eyed the scene for another long moment. When nothing happened, he clicked the screen again, and the game moved on.

In the next frame, the image was further up the road, and the eyes were closer, peering out from behind a large tree as if the thing's head was cocked at an almost unnatural angle. The game board was more complicated, and those eyes could be seen just on the edge, between the board and the end of the screen, almost eyeing him around one of the card stacks, daring him to finish the set.

Kest took that dare and finished the board in only slightly more time than the last. The frame shifted to still further up the road; the trees now showed more warped shapes, the stones almost seeming to have faces, watching him with desperate gazes. The eyes were missing from the scene, yet Kest felt watched even more strongly than before. He peered over his shoulder around his dark room, looking for anything that could be giving him that sense of haunting unease. He found nothing and turned back to his game. The text read, "As you travel the rough road, the forest distorts around you, haunting you wherever you look. You feel as if you are hunted. Something stalks you."

Kest clicked the screen, and it flashed abnormally bright before dimming to reveal the horror show he was looking for. A beast filled the screen. It almost looked like a hulking werewolf lunging at the screen. Except this werewolf had rotting patches of exposed muscle, and too many fingers on its clawed hands. But worst was its face. Instead of a wolf-like face, the beast had something horribly malformed, like two crocodile muzzles fused at the joint of the jaw to give it a V-shaped maw filled with far too many teeth. The thing's eyes, barely visible over the mutated jaws, were just as disturbing: scarlet irises with reptile slit pupils, but the pupils were crooked, the upward tips slanting inwards towards each other. The image glitched for a moment, the jaws closing just the slightest bit more before resting, but it still gave Kest the sense of being trapped and moments from being devoured.

The text under the image read, "Your sense of dread grows darker before you hear it coming for you. You will be devoured if you can't escape." Kest raised a brow at the screen again, his heart calming after the brief spike in pressure and heart rate. "Calling the thing an 'it'." He said with a roll of his eyes. "Can't even name it before jumping on the player." He blew out a breath, lowering his anxiety just a bit more. "Well, I guess leaving it unnamed does make it a bit scarier."

As the game board filled the screen, Kest noticed that it introduced a new mechanic. Some kind of combat mechanic where removing cards from the board caused damage, but he was only given a few moves before he learned it was turn-based and the thing would attack his character, dealing a sizeable amount of damage to his newly appeared health pool. However, he also learned that if he had certain hands of cards, like a full house or straight flush, he could discard the hand to deal sizeable damage to the creature. Kest had started with twenty health points, while the freakish creature started with thirty. That was pretty unfair in Kest's opinion, especially so early in the game.

Kest got the creature within six health points of killing it when it took the final bite. The screen shook and flooded with a bloody red tint, running down in rivulets before the screen turned black with the single message in plain text: 'Your End is Coming'.

Kest leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers together and stretching his arms over his head with a groan of released pressure. After he let out a long sigh, Kest stood and stretched, cracking his back. "Well, they got that unnerving thing going for them. But I've seen it before. Not impressed."

Kest scratched his neck, his nerves still a little on edge after the game session. He figured he should go for a walk before he headed to bed. Kest glanced at one of the ancient digital clocks that littered his space and found it was just past midnight. He'd gotten home at about seven in the evening. Had he really been playing for that long? It didn't feel like he'd been at this station for five-plus hours. It must've been better than Kest thought, if it had kept him that occupied for so long. Even if it wasn't haunted or cursed, it was at least good enough to keep him engaged and feeling creeped out.

Kest stepped out of his home, double-checking that the door was latched before thumping the heavy metal door with his fist twice. One of the first things he'd done when he moved into the shop was replace it with a stronger door. The old one had been a flimsy piece of trash that he could've put a boot through if he kicked it with half an effort. Kest had replaced it with the best thing he could afford with six months' pay. A steel-plated, Orcate-cored piece of breach-resistant walling. The stuff was normally used for the hull of expedition tanks. It wasn't anything that could handle a Black Threat Zone, but it could hold against gangers, thugs, and maybe a corporate breach team. Kest had made damn sure no one was coming in after he'd been ransacked and beaten half to death by a squad of thugs looking for 'protection money'.

Kest stepped out into the oily rain as it poured from the sky. Green-yellow lightning arced across the sky, followed by a low rumble Kest could feel in his feet. He took a deep breath in, the scent of stale chemicals, rotting food, and trash thick in his nose. It smelled like home. The only home he had ever known. Spooky forests were all well and good, but the city was busy with life. He didn't need to worry about being mauled by some nightmare beast in the city so long as he didn't head into the Undercity. Things did live down there that he wouldn't even think of screwing with.

Kest pulled up the hood of his black jacket, shoved his hands in his pockets, and made his way through the maze of local alleys. Other than the occasional ganger, the alleys near Kest's home were mostly empty. The local neighborhood was mostly made up of abandoned apartment complexes, a few hollowed-out shops, and a couple of half-collapsed warehouses. Kest made sure that almost no one knew where he lived. Only the occasional girl he could talk into lifting her skirts and a few of his sparse in-person friends.

Kest turned down another abandoned alley, this one full of broken cybernetics from the nearby cy-doc. The guy was a scrap-doc of the highest order, not even bothering to dispose of his refuse in a healthy way. Arms and legs jutted out from open trash bags along the alley, waiting for the corporate recyclers to come through and pick them up just like they picked up the corpses in these same alleys.

Kest stopped at the end of the narrow corridor, looking down the branching intersections, debating his path when it was decided for him. Down to his right was another alley leading to a wider intersection. Kest caught a shadow moving against the far wall of those crossroads. Something big. The shadow from the nearby street lights stretched tall across the wall Kest could see, and it wasn't something natural. Yet that shadow looked familiar. A warped head with two somethings jutting from it; Kest couldn't tell what, but they looked like over-thick rabbit ears, like its head was cocked at a horrifying angle. A massive hand reached around the corner to grip the wall. Kest saw that the hand, clearly in his vision, had far too many fingers, each tipped with claws, some covered in fur, some showing exposed muscle.

A creaking growl bubbled up from just past that corner, sounding like rotting wood about to break under pressure, but somehow hungrier. A pair of forked snouts, like crocodiles, crept into view, covered in patches of scales, fur, and muscle.

Kest couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was real. The game was real. But he didn't have time for that. He needed to get out of there, and fast.

Chapter 2

Kest turned on his heel and sprinted down the way he’d come. His hood flew free from his head as he dashed for safety. He didn’t know where safety was, but he just needed to get away from whatever that thing was. Kest didn’t know if his home was safe from the creature, but he didn’t want to test the strength of his door against something like that. With heaving breaths, Kest skidded around one corner to bolt down another alley. The oily rain almost made him lose his footing several times, but he couldn’t stop. If that thing caught him, he didn’t stand a chance. Kest wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t some powerful Sorcerer or mighty Berserker. The human man was only in his mid-twenties and nowhere near ready to die to some nightmare he’d found in a damned age-old game.

Kest’s blond hair was plastered to his head in a thick helm of wiry filaments from the foul rain that came down in sheets. Kest could feel his blue eyes bulging from their sockets in panic. He’d always wanted to find something dark and spooky in his hobby, but he’d never expected this. At best, he’d expected to find some real found footage of somebody getting ruined by some horror. Kest had never expected to be in the thick of such a nightmare. He wanted to be a bystander, a watcher of the unspeakable of the world.

Maybe, if he could reach a crowded street, he could scare the creature away from hunting him. Maybe then, it would leave him alone. Kest dug in his heels as the next intersection closed in. His feet slipped out from under him as he reached the intersection. He dropped to his back, the wind knocked from his lungs as he struck the rugged pavement. In panic, Kest looked up toward the alley he’d just left and found the shadow lurking just around the corner again. Its horrid eyes peeked around the corner, just as they had in the game; from behind that tree, its head cocked at an unnatural angle. Kest looked into those soulless and hungry eyes. His blood turned to ice, and his bladder released in a gush, those two beers soaking his black pants, but Kest barely noticed.

Kest pulled himself to all fours and scrambled for the public street like the gates of hell had just opened on his heels. Kest burst into the crowded street, heedless of the people he bowled into, his limbs lashing out for grip and purchase on anything that could get him just a bit farther from that creature.

The two humans and an orc that Kest had rushed into were almost knocked into the street before shouting and glaring at him. The orc glanced back towards the mouth of the alley before grunting something angry but unintelligible. Kest looked up in panic, gazing down the alley in frozen dread. He locked eyes with the two freakish globes staring back at him at just as freakish an angle. But it didn’t come around the corner. The thing just watched Kest for several long moments, its hands clinging to the wall of the building with too many fingers. The eyes retracted after those frozen moments of dread, its clawed fingers trailing behind as the beast and its shadow withdrew. The creature’s shadow moved unnaturally, in a way Kest couldn’t explain, but it was obviously wrong by the standards of physics and magic.

Kest pulled himself to his feet in the bustling street. Passersby paid him no heed or care as they moved about their nighttime errands. He waited for almost another half hour, standing as still in the street as a statue, watching the alley. Yet the thing never reappeared. Kest crept down the alley, his steps slow, cautious, and nervous. It took him five minutes just to reach the intersection leading to his home. He crept around each corner, half expecting the nightmare to be waiting for him in ambush. When Kest reached his front door, he traded frantic glances down either side of the alley, seeking those eyes, watching and waiting for him. But when none appeared, he opened his door with frantic motions, over-lifting the door not once, but three times, before he slipped inside. Kest sealed the door, trying and failing to restrain his panic. Even as he closed the door, he felt like the creature was in his home, waiting for him, lurking in the deep shadows.

Kest scoured each and every inch and corner of his home, making sure that nothing was waiting for him before he released a weighty breath. He rubbed his eyes with balled fists, his deep breaths hitching with the residual anxiety. Kest focused on his breathing for several minutes, resting his back against the nearest wall as he covered his eyes with one hand. After he gained some semblance of control over himself, Kest hurried back to the kitchen, flung open the fridge, heedless of the beers, to snatch up a barely touched bottle of whisky. He pulled the cork free with his teeth, spat it into a dark corner, and took three long pulls. Kest almost never drank hard liquor, but the burn was just what he needed to ground himself. But he needed more than just a strong drink.

With uneven steps, Kest shuffled over to a cabinet in the kitchen he only kept for emergencies. He pulled the shutter open to reveal a lone pack of stim cigarettes. He’d quit smoking a year ago, and it had been going well, but he needed something to dull the razor’s edge on his nerves. The stim smokes were sedatives, intended to support sleep and relaxation. Kest didn’t know if he should throw himself into a chemical-induced coma after all that, but his nerves were buzzing and on an edge so sharp it could’ve cut thick smoke like cheese.

Kest took another long draw from the bottle in his left hand before setting it down to pull and light a unit from his stim sticks. A long pull from the stim, followed by a longer pull from the bottle again, and his nerves settled just enough. Kest finished the stim stick in moments before lighting another and headed to his cot. His bed was a shabby affair of bent metal and fraying fabric, with a stained pillow that smelled of sweat and mildew. He fell into his cot with a stim between his lips and the bottle in his hand.

Kest didn’t think he’d sleep, but he at least wanted to relax. He never drank enough to make the room spin, and he didn’t have another cigarette after the second, but he lay there, thinking.

Kest thought about the game. He thought about the rumors he’d heard about it. He thought about the information Lord Shoggoth and Sinister101 had posted. He didn’t have enough data to solve the puzzle. For all he knew, the creature would hunt him until it caught and ate him. He might break free if he beat the game... or he could suffer something worse. It was a gamble in either direction, and he needed to know more.

Kest never slept that night, despite the two sedative sticks and three-quarters of a bottle of cheap whisky. Then again, he didn’t feel safe sleeping after that encounter. Instead of drifting off into what would doubtlessly be nightmares, Kest activated the therra-node mounted to his temple and started scouring the net for anything that could give him a hint about what was going on with him and this cursed game. He searched “Cursed games,” “Really cursed games,” “Dead Man’s Hand cursed game,” “Forbidden Solitaire cursed game,” and dozens of other search prompts. Yet nothing useful came up. Only the usual dreck Kest had already skimmed when on his prize hunts. Nothing useful came up through his research, so he changed tactics to asking on forums. On some of the more publicly trafficked pages, Kest left more vague posts about finding a game he heard was cursed. On the more niche forums, Kest was a bit more honest, but didn’t tell the whole tale. It was on the closed forums for occult enthusiasts and horror junkies that he gave the whole story.

Kest posted on only three of the closed occultist forums: Phobia-Fanatic, Code-Black-Stalker, and Omens-End-Hunters. Kest knew that the last forum, Omens-End-Hunters, was frequented by Adventurers specializing in the spooky. He’d read plenty of posts on that forum of Adventurers recounting some of the spookiest dreck they’d walked into. Things like a hypnotic painting that stole the youth from whoever looked at it for too long. Another story that stuck in Kest’s head from that forum was a post labeled ‘Went Hunting for Ghouls and Found a Living Nightmare. The adventuring lance had taken a quest to clear out an infestation of ghouls from an abandoned graveyard just outside a settlement’s walls. They found ghouls alright. But the ghouls had been mutated by something. The poster mentioned how the things had extra mouths, too many eyes, and tentacles- too many tentacles, according to the poor guy. Apparently, the lance lost more than half of its members before they managed to retreat and call in a Scorched Earth Protocol with the local Armament Co. office.

If Kest was lucky, someone would find his breadcrumbs and give him some critical data that wasn’t simply floating around the LSN network. He was certainly desperate enough to even ask strangers and net-lurkers. If he had to, Kest might ask a hacker for a favor to dig up anything from sealed corporate networks and servers. But that would probably come with a steep price tag, financial or not.

Three of Kest’s alarms were set to buzz in a racket, blaring in different tones and patterns. The signal for Kest to get up and get ready for work. Kest rolled from his cot to flop onto the floor like a discarded rag. After he pulled his face from the synth-crete floor, Kest shambled around the room to slap each of the clocks into stiff quiet. The silence that filled the space was sudden, deep, and hollow.

Kest moved about his daily routine, brushing his teeth, dumping buckets of lukewarm water over his nude frame, and heating a quick breakfast before falling back into his lawn chair. Kest eyed the entry to the front room, where his front door led. He watched it for a long moment before turning back to his battle station and cracking his knuckles. “Time to get to work,” Kest muttered, desperate for a distraction, a sense of normalcy. Something to keep him grounded after the night before. After a moment sitting in his chair, he remembered a part of his daily routine he’d almost forgotten.

A brittle silence filled the air that could’ve been shattered by a stim-cig hitting the floor. Kest held his breath, frozen to the spot out of terror. His instincts told him that if he moved, even to breathe, the creature would know he was there. The silence was shattered by something louder than a stim-cig, but not as earth-shattering as the pounding door, and yet… worse. A growl crawled up from the cracks in the door. Something deep, resounding, and both hungry and hateful. The rumbling tone grew louder and deeper as the creature could be heard sniffing at the door with deep, heaving gusts. The growl was abruptly cut short by a disgruntled grunt followed by a shadow Kest hadn’t noticed shifting just past the door to vanish. No steps could be heard as the shadow drifted away.

Kest needed to check for any updates on his posts about the nameless game, but he had a higher priority than that at the moment. Kest rushed back to the kitchen to collect his pack of stim-cigs and his fire myst lighter before heading back to the front door. He stared at the door for a few long moments before hurrying back to his bedroom where he collected a small combat knife. It was a piece of simple mystech, powered by a lightning myst crystal to charge the edge of the blade. Kest unlatched the butt-plate of the weapon to eject the powering myst crystal. Given the intensity of the yellow glow, Kest judged it still had enough power for at least a few more hits, if he didn’t overcharge the thing.

With the weapon reassembled, he opened his front door with quaking and achingly slow motions. As soon as there was enough space, Kest tentatively poked his head out, like a rat about to leave its hole. When no creatures bit off his face, he slipped out through the door completely. He checked the alleyways again, but saw no sign of that awful shadow. With frantic steps, Kest made his way to the crowded streets, checking over his shoulder every few steps.

As soon as he felt safer, if not completely safe, in the crowded street, Kest took a deep breath before popping out and lighting another stim-cig. He took a long pull from the stick to calm his nerves before starting on his way.

Kest hurried through the streets to find the nearest housing supply depot. Dwelling Supply & Repair wasn’t far from Kest’s place. Only five blocks south and a high-speed elevator up eighteen stories. Kest hurried inside the warehouse with the glowing blue and orange sign reading DS&R. The massive space was filled with shelves and shelves of lumber, tools, and assorted supplies for plumbing, electrical, and so on. Those shelves reached from the floor to the forty-foot ceiling.

With that complete, Kest moved toward the armored doors. Kest found the doors easily enough and inspected the selection for the best quality at the most affordable price. He finally settled on a pricey Inconel metal-plated piece with a steel core. It cost way more than he was comfortable spending, but he needed to be as close to certain he would be safe as he could get. The door even had six slots for various types of locks. It was perfect for what he needed.

Kest quickly found another employee; this one was a wood elf with a gray, orange, and blue vest. The vest identified the tired-looking man as a mage employee with Kinetic Magics. “Hey,” Kest started as he closed the distance on the Elven man. “Can I ask you to pull down a door for me?”

The employee, whose name tag read Kraycker, gave a tired sigh with a matching nod before gesturing for Kest to lead the way and point out which one. Kest did so, pointing out the specific Inconel and steel door. The tired man raised his hands toward the door hanging eight feet off the floor. His hands glowed with a gray light before the door started shifting on its own. The door gently pulled free from its hinges and just as gently lowered down to Kest’s cart.

Kest was about to thank the man when a familiar shadow lurked on the shelves just at the opening to the aisle, not even six feet away. Kest froze, eyes bulging from his shock, his mouth working wordlessly. The shadow loomed larger as it grew closer. A deep and familiar growl rumbled through the aisle.

“Can I help you with anything else?” Kraycker asked before his ears caught the predatory and hungry sound. “What is that sound?” he asked as he turned around.

As Kraycker turned to look for the horrid source of that terrible sound, the creature blurred around the corner. Suddenly, the freakish beast was looming over the warehouse worker. The creature grasped Kraycker with bone-shattering strength in an instant. Kraycker’s arms warped as both of his humerus bones splintered and were crushed. Poor Kraycker tried to scream in agony, but before more than an instant of noise left his throat, the creature bit his head off with its V-shaped snout. Kraycker’s body gave an instant of jerking and seizing before the corpse went limp. The creature opened its maw again and simply shoveled the rest of the corpse inside. The body was gone as if dumped down a trash chute, faster and easier than should’ve been naturally possible for a creature of that size and shape.

Kest’s frantic steps carried him to the power tools department. As soon as he found the first aisle with motorized blades. The sense of looming capture grew, sinister intentions sending sparks through his nervous system. He snatched up a one-handed chainsaw, smashed the display safety guard off against the shelf edge. Kest turned and brandished the unpowered tool against his attacker.

Kest spun, ready to fight, only to find nothing there. The aisle was empty. Kest crept toward the intersection he’d entered through. He poked his head around the corner to find nothing out of the ordinary. A few customers stared in the direction he’d gone with confused expressions, but nothing came at him. Kest stepped out into the intersection, chainsaw held at the ready as he tentatively crept his way back the way he had come. Many Kest passed by, giving him nervous glances before hurrying away, as if he were the maniac. He didn’t care. Kest would rather be thought of as a lunatic than get eaten by some creature lurking around a corner. Kest found no sign of the creature as he moved back toward the door selection he’d fled from at top speed.

Kest took a long look down the opposite way he’d come, waiting for that shadow to return. When nothing happened, Kest collected his cart and triple-checked that he still had his locks, hinges, and charms. Then he looked at the chainsaw clutched in his right hand like a lifeline.

As if the examination of the tool was a cue, a store assistant manager hurried up to him. He was a large, black human man with a bulky build. “Excuse me, sir,” the manager started in a gruff voice. “We saw you stealing that tool,” he pointed at the chainsaw in Kest’s hand. “I’m going to need you to pay for that and damages before you leave, or I’ll need to call the guard.”

“I…um…yeah…sorry,” Kest said numbly as he kept staring at the tool, dumbfounded. Kest quickly realized just how bad things looked. He lowered the tool to hang at his side as she shook his head clear of the fog. “Yes. I mean, sorry. I was having some kind of mental episode…I think.” Kest trailed off for a second before shaking himself back into the present moment. “I’ll buy it. If you could have someone snatch me a battery pack and charger on the way out…I don’t think I can be in here much longer.” A nervous tinge entered his voice as he peered over his shoulder.

The manager shook his head and muttered something under his breath about junkies getting high in the store before turning and heading for the front-end checkout, waving for Kest to follow. Kest grabbed the cart with his door with one hand and moved to follow, not feeling safe enough to let go of the tool still clutched in his stressed grip.

Resigned to his fate, Kest stepped out of the store to make his way home. He hadn’t even left the elevator at street level when noxious rain started pattering down across the windshield of the tube. By the time Kest did reach street level, the pattering had become a downpour.

Kest pulled his hood up over his head and face and started making his way home, half-hiding the chainsaw under his jacket. He hurried through the bustling streets, passing a gaggle of giggling Elven fashion elites, a pair of drunken Dwarves, and an Adventurer lance of Dracose lizard people bickering over their last mission. Beyond that, the faceless masses blended together into a blur. When Kest saw the girls, he saw a group of victims walking into doom without knowing. When he saw the drunken Dwarves, Kest imagined them walking down a dark alley to get devoured. When Kest saw the lance, he thought about asking them for help, but decided against it. Pleading with random Adventurers was both desperate and rude, often resulting in being turned down and told to file a quest with the Adventuring Society Operations Bureau. But Kest wasn’t about to post this shit show up for just any random lance Adventurers to walk into this horror show just to get chewed to bits by that thing.

Kest tested the locks and charms several times in a row, both with the door closed and with it open. When Kest found everything was functioning accordingly, he sealed his door and tested it one last time before moving to lie down on his cot. He needed to check his posts for replies, and while he could’ve done that from his battle station or even deep-dive, he just needed to lie down for a while.

Kest pulled out another stim-cig and lit it, taking a long pull, holding it for a moment before letting it out in a thin jet. He took two more drags off the thing before opening his Therra-node and pulling up the windows with his posts to hover around his head. On the public pages, most of the replies and comments were jokes about the game and Kest dying horribly if he ever played it. Well, it was too late for that, so Kest moved on to the more closed boards. On those, Kest got a lot more warnings about not touching the thing from those who had heard of it. Others asked questions about the game in an effort to get more data for themselves. Kest wasn’t about to spill the data on the nightmare. This was his problem, and none of those chip-heads would know anything useful.