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Just before Gene felt he was about to pass out from the pain, it subsided.
“It is done.”
Gene rose to his feet and looked upon the Makers' faces. He remembered. Memories flashed before him of the Makers arguing over every aspect of his character, down to such minute details such as if his genitals should have an adjustable slider or not.
“Eww, gross,” Gene said.
“T-t-told you,” Nervous Guy said to Beer Belly.
He saw them through a set of omniscient eyes. They sat facing one another in a clustered sitting room. The walls were covered in pictures of the world Gene had once known, and others that existed out there. He saw pictures of Beatrice, the rose lady, even rough pencil sketches of the broken dragon. With each blink, the scene changed as quickly as the seasons. Pictures on the walls changed. Stress lines became more prominent on both the Makers' faces. But they always sat facing one another no matter how hard things got. Gene smiled as he watched them code in his attributes, changing them each time he was reborn. Dropping him into worlds countless times over. Worlds which looked exactly like his own, and others so different he could not believe what he was seeing. Being deleted was no longer the nightmare Gene once thought it was. He was reborn each time, to see the world before him grow, improve, become more alive.
“You remember now.” Beer Belly smiled. The man’s real name bubbled up in Gene’s memories.
“Yes, Eric. I do.”
Eric rested his hand on Gene's shoulder. Gene looked down and smiled. The wisdom of his tired eyes shone, the brilliance of his mind reflected in those clear blue irises.
“Thank you for making me.”
“We t-t-thank you for playing.” Nervous Man said. Gene. My other Maker’s name is Gene.
Gene Eric bowed before his Makers.
“I'm sorry to ask, Makers, but I need to get back to my world —your latest alpha. I . . .” Gene Eric paused.
The Makers nodded sadly. “We know. Now go get him, hero.”
The stoutly Gene opened his console and clicked open a command.
“Goodbye, Gene Eric. We will see you again.”
“In the next alpha?” Gene Eric asked.
“No.” Eric smiled. “In the full release.”
A flash of white light filled Gene's eyes as the Makers and the darkness around gave way.
Final Fight
Gene's eyes opened to darkness. Only this time, he could hear the rumblings of the dragon and the cries of others, echoing towards him as though he was deep inside a cave.
Then it clicked.
He wasn't deep inside a cave or abyss. He had revived inside the dragon's stomach!
Light shot up from the hilt of the sword, illuminating the intricately carved runes along the blade, all the way to the tip where it concentrated into a deep glow, lighting up the folds of the dragon's innards.
Gene steadied his grip and then slashed.
The blade sliced open the dragon’s belly in a horizontal cut. Daylight and ash flowed in like promising rays through the wound. The dragon cried out loud, this time in pain rather than the raw anger of before.
Gene slashed again, widening the wound. With a third slash, flaps of its leathery skin tore loose. Gene rolled as he spilled forth in a torrent of slimy guts and sizzling hot dragon blood.
“Gene!”
Gene sprang to his feet and fixed his Helmet of Immense Protection. Beatrice’s face cracked into a wide smile. “Glad to have you back in the land of the living.”
“Glad to be here.” Gene smiled. “Now let's finish this.”
Beatrice nodded and raised her warhammer high for a crushing blow on the wounded dragon. With a mighty roar, the two charged. He was the chosen of the Makers. Their test character. He had been here since the birth of their world and he would be there until the end. The sword shone like a blazing sun. He let out a roar and then swung at the dragon's head.
The blade slid through its neck like paper. A shocked expression filled the dragon's scaly face before Beatrice’s warhammer cracked on the top of its head. A moment of silence hung heavy in the air before the dragon’s head tipped to one side and then hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Gene fell to his knees, his entire body aching.
Beatrice raced over to him and knelt by his side.
“It's done,” Gene said weakly. “We did it.”
“Aye, lad. We did.” She slapped him on the back and grinned.
Gene smiled back at the elderly woman. She had helped him through everything. Since the drop, to getting rid of Awesome, to accidentally releasing the dragon, and meeting the Wiz, she had been there every step of the way. She was more than just an NPC. She was a friend.
“Thank you, Beatrice. For everything,” Gene said.
“I knew ye could do it.”
The peace and tranquillity was lost as maniacal howling and screams of tormented joy filled the air.
“Think you can defeat me, do ya? I'm Weepels the Invincible! None can stand before me!” Weeples kicked the dragon’s head and continued his nonsensical shouting.
“The Wiz?” Gene asked. “Did he make it?” Beatrice shook her head. “He's gone, lad. The Ban Hammer got him.”
“Did it?”
Gene and Beatrice spun around to see the Wiz leaning on his staff and wagging his eyebrows a few feet away.
“But how?” Gene asked.
“They don't call me the Wiz for nothing.” The Wiz gave him a knowing smile. “Plus, this game is a buggy, broken mess anyway . . .” he added under his breath. “Can't believe I wasted sixty dollars on this crap . . .”
“Weeples made it, by the way.” Gene jerked his thumb towards Weeples who was now biting the dragon’s corpse and yelling something about ‘who’s the chew toy now, bitch?’ “In case, you know, you want to stop him. He’s kinda creeping me out at the moment.”
The Wiz shook his head before taking Weepels by the shoulders and easing him away from the bloody dragon corpse.
Beatrice threw one of her arms over Gene's shoulder and pinched his cheek. “So, what's next for the big hero, eh?”
“Right now, a long bath and then some good night's sleep.”
“Wow, pretty boring for a hero, I might say.” The Wiz leaned on his staff, a sardonic smile upon his lips.
“Ah, bite me,” Gene replied before wincing as he noticed the gore soaked into his clothes.
“By the way, just so you know, Wiz. I met the Makers.”
The Wiz paled.
“And what did they say?”
“To stop duping or they'll go to the police.”
The Wiz swallowed a lump in this throat.
“Fine. Consider it a deal.”
Beatrice slapped Gene on the back and let out a deep-chested laugh better suited to a dwarf on the eve after a battle. She leaned in close when the Wiz was out of earshot and whispered, “Did the Makers really say that?”
“Nah,” Gene replied. “They've no idea he exists. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face.”
A New Threat Looting in the Background
Things slowly settled back into normal. Well, whatever passed as normal in this world. Gene Eric, Beatrice, and the Wiz’s (and I guess Weeply, too) actions had liberated their world of a broken dragon from an unfinished DLC. Awesome rage quit the game after being unable to retrieve the loot from his body and moved on to better and more finished games.
Rolling back to a previous save of their world had been jarring, to say the least. Hours had simply returned. The town rebuilt itself before their very eyes. Bodies resurrected and rushed backwards to where they stood before all of this.
Once everything had loaded, it was as if the Unfinished Dragon had never attacked.
Things, at long last, were quiet and boring. Exactly what Gene Eric wanted right now.
Life still took some getting used to, however. Gene gradually learned about things such as carry weight, clipping, and respawning. Suffice to say, these things took a lon
g time to adjust to.
Most importantly, he learned his name, Gene Eric, was not because his parents were dicks. But because he was the Makers' chosen. The creation of Gene Persson and Eric Pardo. By their holiest of code, he was their avatar. Their test character. Their body to inhabit all the world seeds, however many there were.
* * *
The walk home was a blocky one as always. He took care to round the 'Clipped Road', wary of what happened last time he saw someone step in there. Legend has it he is still falling through the abyss to this day.
Gene shut his front door and bolt-locked it. He pulled the blinds shut and then sat down. No one needed to see what he was about to do or else their whole world would unravel. Literally.
The console command menu slipped down over real-time in front of Gene's eyes. Gene input DM mode. He keyed in the next two commands: no clipping. Tel/devroom.
His surroundings warped and stretched around him as he travelled at speeds previously unthought of. The flesh on his body quivered and blurred as he hurled through once invisible walls, through unfinished rooms, and unpopulated, rendering worlds until he came slamming down into a marble-tiled room.
“Gotta be faster with that stop command.” The Wiz smirked.
“Yeah, thanks.” Gene brushed himself down. “Anyway, I got your message.”
The Wiz's face paled. “Good. I think you need to see it for yourself.”
* * *
Gene stared at the command console as the Wiz raced through lines of code.
“You see that?”
“All I see are numbers and some weird commands.”
The Wiz sighed and pointed at one highlighted piece of code.
“Is that—”
The Wiz nodded gravely. “It's coming.”
“Oh no,” Gene gasped. And he was right to do so. For an evil far greater than the Unfinished Dragon was on its way.
* * *
The inhabitants of the rebuilt town gathered around. The sky overhead swirled green, shadows morphing and reforming. The clouds roiled, flashing in the shape of faces. Suits. People shaking hands. But what was most unsettling was the singular word that kept flashing.
Gene and the Wiz pushed their way through the wide-eyed and gaping crowd. The message in the sky flashed again.
“P-R-O-F-I-T-S —” Gene spelled out.
“It can't be . . .” The Wiz held back tears. “It can't be.”
“Wiz, I don't understand. What does this mean?”
“It's begun.”
The sky crackled, but not to the sound of thunder, but rather of people. Laughing. Slapping one another on the back. And then the strangest sound of all: a chorus of booing.
“Wiz, what in the Makers’ holy code is going on?” Beatrice asked, rushing to his side.
“Run!” the Wiz suddenly shouted. “Save yourselves! Run!”
A panic swept through the crowd as man, woman, and child pushed and shoved one another out of the way. The chorus of boos in the sky grew louder, deafening. Gene fell to his knees and clutched his ears.
Then it happened. A blurry, blocky shape fell from the sky. It hurtled towards the ground before slamming in with enough force to leave a small crater.
The crowd coughed and shook the dust and dirt from their clothes.
“Back. Back, I warn you!” the Wiz continued over the murmuring of the crowd. “Don't look at it!”
One child reached out and laid his hand upon its shiny, metallic surface.
The large box rattled, as though something was inside, just begging to be released.
“Back dammit!” the Wiz snapped and yanked the child's hand free.
Gene's eyes locked with it. Then he felt it too. The pull, the allure, the mystery of just what was inside. Junk or treasures? All it asked was for a little money to know . . .
“Gene, you must fight it!” the Wiz shouted, fighting off the crowd as they stumbled closer to the strange box like zombies.
“I . . . Can't . . .” The crowd as one edged closer.
“Makers why? Why have you forsaken us?” the Wiz howled into the sky. He fell to his knees, defeated.
The others pushed past him, drawn in by the strange box.
Gene looked back at the Wiz. It was too late. He saw his reflection in the Wiz's watery eyes. Gone were Gene’s pale blue eyes, now green and glazed over.
“Gene, please don't.”
Gene wasn't listening. He was already reaching into his pockets and pulling out whatever gold he could find. Others in the growing crowd done the same. Coins hurled through the air, smacking against the strange box which seemed to rattle gleefully with each coin that pinged off its surface.
A tear rolled down the Wiz's cheek.
“It is too late. The loot boxes have come.”
A final message from Paul:
Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Before you go, I’d like to ask a favour: if you liked what you read, please leave a review on Amazon.com. Short and sweet is perfect. I’ll be eternally grateful, and sure to reward you awesome people by writing more books.
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Works by Paul W. Ryan
Rage
The Watchers Series
Moonstruck
Watchers in the Dark (forthcoming)
The Beast in the Sky (forthcoming)
Monster Hunter Extraordinaire
Monster Hunter Extraordinaire
We’re All Going to Die
Monsters Are Jerks
The Rot Series
The Rot and Death
The Rot and Life
Short Stories
Filthy, Filthy Flesh-Eaters
The NPC: A Gene Eric Adventure
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PAUL W RYAN spent his formative years in Dublin, Ireland, reading and proofreading everything from sweet wrappers to stolen Playboys until he eventually started writing stories of his own. His stories began with horrifying, gelatinous, monsters consuming entire homes (and the families inside them of course) and eventually evolved into the dynamic style his readers know and love today.
He made his debut as a novelist in 2014 with Rage, then in 2015 he published Moonstruck, and in 2016 he released his third book, Monster Hunter Extraordinaire.
Paul is currently a freelance editor in Mexico City, and spends his time confusing people with his accent and plotting new and exciting ways to kill everyone’s favourite characters.
Learn more about Paul at amazon.com/PaulWRyan
Check out my blog and join my VIP mailing list at www.paulwryanauthor.com
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[PR1] They also ask Gene to walk with him to replay this joke and annoy him further?