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  Then I’d hate to see the other places to grab a bite.

  Obviously, dining would not prove a significant customer draw in Cthulhu World. No surprise, really. Come to Cthulhu World and enjoy gourmet dining … with a side of soul-crushing despair.

  Lacking any other option, I ate another fry. “So is this really period-appropriate cuisine?”

  “Uh … Don’t know much about that, I’m afraid. I just serve what they tell me to, mate.”

  “How long was the company building this place? It must have taken a while to construct all this, especially without raising too much notice from the outside world.”

  “I, uh … er … can’t say too much on that. A while, I guess.”

  Uh huh. “So you’re obviously not originally from this area.”

  Thomas shook his head. “Actually, I’m supposed to tell you to put on the headset once you got your lunch.”

  Right. Useful kid, this one. Nevertheless, I did don the headset once more. The canteen around me morphed into a general store stocked with both consumable goods and tools.

  Behind the counter, another man appeared, while Thomas seemed to fade into the background. Actually, this NPC shopkeeper looked a lot like Thomas, though he leaned on the counter with an almost overwritten confidence, his eyes locked on me.

  “What’ll you have?” No trace of that British accent. They’d modeled the NPC after Thomas’s face, but that seemed about it.

  “Tell me a bit about Innsmouth.”

  The boy snorted. “Heh, what of it? Place stinks of fish night and day, locals keep to themselves and there ain’t hardly a soul about to talk to.”

  “So you’re no local?”

  “I ain’t indeed. Just got transferred here by the chain.” He pointed at the sign hanging outside the shop. “I couldn’t afford to give up the job now, so I had to take the post. Can’t say I’ll miss the place when they let me out of here.”

  Interesting. The AI was excellent, like the NPC was able to understand and respond to my non-scripted inquiries. Or maybe the designers did script in all the probable lines of conversation. Worth testing. So … I needed something no one could have anticipated a guest asking. “I’m looking to buy a fire-breathing platypus with chrome headlights. You sell those?”

  “I don’t have any earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

  I smiled, despite myself. A generic response to an unscripted question? Or legitimate AI reacting to it? “Where do I slay the dragon?”

  “You off your rocker? Ain’t no such things as dragons. You keep talking nonsense I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

  Wow. The AI really did seem to be reacting to my actual words. “Sorry, man. Just messing with you. Here’s a serious question. What’s with that Order of Dagon?”

  Now NPC Thomas groaned, his lips drawing up into a sneer. “One thing you learn here real quick is you don’t go poking around there. Not the Masons’ hall, not the churches. Rumor is, strangers have even disappeared if they go about too conspicuous.”

  “Because of the locals.”

  “Yessir. Furtive, strange folks what stay hidden all through daylight, except on occasion to come and buy liquors. I seen ’em out swimming in the sea a few times, though, late in the afternoon or in the evening. Can’t say as I ever wanted to draw too close, though. The people who do come in have this strange look about ’em.”

  Yeah, that matched with what little I could remember from the Innsmouth story. “Strange how?”

  “Balding a bit too early, and not just the men. Heads a bit too narrow, eyes a little too wide and round, and never blinking. Hunched backs. The younger ones don’t seem so bad though, like the locals just age too damned fast. ’Course, I’ve a feeling there’s worse than what I’ve seen hidden away out of sight. I’ve heard stuff going on at night. Strange sounds coming out of houses which are all boarded up.”

  Interesting and sufficiently creepy, I supposed. “Tell me more.”

  “Can’t say as I know much more to tell. The locals won’t give you the time of day, neither. Only man who talks at all is that drunk, Zadok. He comes in here to buy his liquor when he’s got the cash for it. Old man, only he ain’t changed like the others. I talked to him a time or two, but his stories are all nonsense anyway. I’d steer clear of him too, if I was you.”

  +1 Cha

  The notification scrolled past my screen. Huh. So it seemed this was the kind of game where you directly leveled your stats by using them. Always nice.

  I looked about the store for a bit. A game that offers you tools generally has a place for you to use them. Generally. I grabbed a flashlight, surprised it felt like my hand actually closed around the in-game item. More biofeedback?

  This I took, as well as a hammer, a bag of jerky, and a map of the town. I laid the items on the counter.

  “That’ll be six dollars,” NPC Thomas said.

  “Okay.” I had no idea how to pull in-game currency from an imaginary wallet. But almost as soon as I said it, another notification flashed before my eyes.

  -6 Currency

  The items I bought appeared stuck on my belt. At the edge of my vision, a little map icon appeared. I swatted at this and a translucent display of the town popped up, including a blinking yellow dot.

  My current location, no doubt. Admittedly, it was kind of cool. The map showed the hotel, a refinery, the wharves, and several other marked areas. Probably all critical places in the game.

  I waved my hand and the map reduced in size to only take up a small section of my vision. A mini-map to help me navigate. Usually a useful feature, but the interactive map might diminish the sense of helplessness one expects in Lovecraft. I made a mental note to put this in my report later. But since it was here, I’d use it if I needed it.

  Another wave turned the mini-map back into a tiny icon.

  So, then. Time to explore.

  I wandered around the streets for a good while, both familiarizing myself with the town layout and looking for clues as to my objective in the game. Every game has to have a goal. Even so-called open world games have a finite number of paths available and a finite number of quests. No matter how complex the designers had made Cthulhu World, if it was a game that could be won, there had to be a series of objectives to accomplish.

  Find the pattern, and I’d be halfway to solving this game.

  And so I made my way around deserted streets. In some of the boarded-up houses, I caught a hint of scuffling or faint moans or guttural grunts. Were those just window dressing, or was some interaction possible? Either way, I found no entrance to those buildings.

  Instead, I slowly made a circuit back toward the green. NPC Thomas had called the churches and the Mason hall forbidden. In a game, “forbidden” usually meant a place held strong challenges alongside secrets or rewards, if not mandatory quests.

  When I returned to the green, though, the streets were no longer completely empty. A man in a ’20s era button-up vest was fiddling with the lock on the Mason hall.

  I lifted my headset and he vanished. So an NPC, rather than a park employee.

  I stood watching him a moment. The man was so intent on picking the lock he hadn’t noticed me at all, even as I approached from behind him. The last NPC I’d wrangled information out of had earned me a Cha boost. Why not try for another?

  I cleared my throat, and the would-be burglar jerked with an incredibly lifelike mimicry of surprise.

  He leaped to his feet, one hand digging into his pocket, the other up in warding. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. More politely, maybe, but you get the gist.”

  The NPC sneered at me. “Just you stay out of my way, you hear me? Captain Marsh’s treasure is mine.” He pulled his hand from his pocket, revealing a folding knife he managed to flick open with his thumb. “Are we clear?”

  Captain’s treasure? Was that my goal? To find some lost treasure hidden in this town? If so, the man seemed to think it was ins
ide the Masonic Hall.

  I nodded amiably. “Crystal clear, Mr. …”

  “Smith.” The NPC almost spat the name at me, leaving me to wonder if the designers had actually named him Smith, or just programmed him to be an ass.

  Either way, Smith stalked around the side of the hall, leaving me alone.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the hotel. No sign of anyone watching me. So, a contest to find the captain’s treasure. Pirate treasure, maybe. A nice change of pace from the games I’d played lately. And if Smith thought the cache was in this off-limits Mason Hall, it was as good a place to start as any.

  Already knowing what I’d find, I tried the main door. Locked, of course. And unlike Smith, I had no lockpicks. I didn’t remember seeing them for sale in Thomas’s store, either. So that meant I needed another way in, or a key.

  I backed up a little and took in the place. The Esoteric Order of Dagon. It even sounded creepy. Nice.

  After a glance around revealed no one to spot me, I strolled along behind the hall, the opposite direction from where Smith had gone. Across from this building, a storm cellar to one of the churches lay open. If it was like many games, maybe that hidden path would open the way to my actual goal.

  The opening was dark, and I couldn’t make out much from where I stood. As I peered at the darkness, though, something crossed right in front of it. My heart lurched into my throat and I fell back several steps. That had been a person, I thought, clad in priestly robes but wearing a crown of gold.

  Hand to my chest, I blew out a slow breath. Damn game had managed to spook me despite myself. And this was just a person, another NPC, no doubt. Either way, though, I wouldn’t be able to just break into the church basement unless I was willing to deal with the priest. That didn’t sound like a particularly good idea while any other avenue remained open.

  Instead, I pushed on, around the back of the hall. An overgrowth of thick bushes clustered around the back side of the building. There were windows up on the second floor, but they were shuttered and out of my reach in any event. I started to continue my circuit, then paused. Shrubbery blocking the way in a game either meant an inaccessible area … or a concealed one.

  I clucked my tongue, glanced around, and then waded into the bushes. Branches scraped my arms as I did, but the game didn’t register any damage to me. I ducked down and skirted along the edge of the building, not really sure what I expected to find.

  A moment later, my exploration was rewarded. A cellar door similar to the one open at the church greeted me here too.

  Design trope: hidden door right where you expect one. Check.

  I yanked on the heavy door until it swung free.

  +1 Might

  Huh. Nice. I hadn’t expected that. The opening down there was pitch black, so I grabbed my flashlight and switched it on. Steep stairs led into a dusty storeroom filled with rotting crates and cracked barrels. Careful of my footing, I descended the stairs.

  The place stank of mold. How the hell did the game manage to create a smell? Had they actually released this scent into the air? They must’ve. Blurring the line between the real world and the game world, turning this into the ultimate live-action RPG. I had to admit, I was impressed.

  A spider the size of my palm scurried over a web right in front of my face.

  “Shit!”

  I stepped backward on reflex. My heel caught on the stairs and I pitched over, slamming my back against a step.

  -1 HP

  Oww. No shit, minus HP. Groaning, I stood and rubbed my back. That had hurt—no biofeedback necessary.

  Now even more careful of where I walked—given the ginormous spider—I made my way around the storeroom. My flashlight wasn’t half so bright as I’d have liked, and I swept it over each area twice, at least. Tiny bugs crawled all over whatever had spilled out of a rotten crate. Might have once been food, but now it looked like mush, writhing beneath an army of insects.

  Eventually, I reached the only visible door.

  Unlocked.

  It opened out into a hall that greeted me with a fresh scent of blood and some foulness you only smelled in public restrooms that got cleaned once a decade at most. Frankly, I could have stood for the game to be less realistic at this point.

  I took a right and followed the hall until it opened up into another room. The stench grew worse here. My foot squelched on something and my shoe skidded an inch, forcing me to flail my arms to catch my balance.

  I swung the flashlight down.

  At first, I thought I’d stepped on a snake. But it was human entrails. My gorge rose and I stumbled back away from the macabre sight. As I did, the flashlight swept over a bloodstained stone altar.

  The remains of an eviscerated man lay strewn before it.

  -2 Sanity

  I sucked in a sharp breath, breathing in more of the awful smell, backpedaled and bumped into the wall. My heart was absolutely pounding. God, it all seemed so damn real.

  From down the hall, I heard something scuffling.

  And it was coming toward me.

  A man ambled forward, crossing the flashlight’s beam, his gait uneven but fast. His hooded robe prevented me from making out much of his features. Before I could even react, he was on me, gurgling incomprehensible curses. Strong hands seized my shoulders and flung me back against the wall.

  -1 HP

  The impact dazed me and the flashlight tumbled from my grasp, clattering along on the floor. Its spinning beam illuminated bare glimpses of my attacker. The man ambled forward, barking a guttural order at me. I started to rise, trying to raise my hands in warding.

  His kick caught me in the stomach.

  -2 HP

  It actually hurt almost as much as really getting hit. I curled up, gasping with pain. In the darkness, I felt it as he reared back for another kick. This time, I caught his foot and heaved. The robed man fell over backward and landed hard on the floor.

  1 Damage

  The HUD notifications just kept scrolling up before my vision. I didn’t have time to think about that shit. I crawled atop my attacker and punched him in the face. Or tried, anyway. I think my blow actually hit him in the ear.

  1 Damage

  Again and again, I rained blows on him. I never considered myself much of a fighter—but getting kicked in the gut went a long way to changing that.

  1 Damage

  1 Damage

  2 Damage

  The man shoved me over backward and I fell on my ass. As I landed, my belt of gear clattered on the wooden floor. The hammer! As my assailant rose above me, I jerked the hammer free of my belt and swung. Its head cracked into my foe’s knee and he toppled over, bellowing in pain.

  6 Damage

  A surge of adrenaline seized me and I launched myself atop my fallen attacker. I brought the hammer down on his skull with a sickening crack.

  12 Damage

  This asshole was going down! I slammed the hammer once more into his head.

  12 Damage

  Blood splattered out of the man’s head, and he collapsed on the floor and lay still. I fell backward myself, letting the hammer slip from my grasp as I scrambled back over to the flashlight. Holy shit. What had I just done? I mean, it was a game … just a game. Everybody kills people in games.

  But damn did it feel awful real.

  I swung the light back around to examine the robed man. Before I could look too close, his body evaporated into glowing green particles. I gaped at that and shook my head.

  Sure, lots of games don’t keep corpses around for various reasons. They clutter up memory, for one thing. Plus, in your average FPS or RPG, you’d have a virtual sea of dead bodies left in your wake.

  Behind me, a faint red glow began to fill the room. I turned back to the altar. Set in its center was a ruby the size of my fist. And it was radiating its own light, adding sinister illumination to the blood splatters decorating the room.

  +1 Might

  +1 Lore

  -3 Sanity

 
; A wave of dizziness shook me and sent me stumbling backward until I bumped into the wall. This I slumped against and slid down until I was sitting. My head felt light, as if I was trying to wrap my mind around some concept too foreign and too large to take in.

  Eldritch Power Acquired

  What the hell? My head felt like it was about to split in half. The AR must have been causing a migraine. I stripped off the headset and set it on the ground. The moment I removed the glasses, though, I found myself in total darkness.

  “Oh, damn it.”

  I rubbed my palms against my temples. The flashlight, the glowing ruby, everything that let me see was in the game world. In the real world, I was no doubt in an empty, unlit room. Which basically meant the only way out of this little shithole was to keep playing. As if this horrifyingly real game was not enticing enough.

  It had almost let me stop thinking about Zoe and Grace. For a moment.

  I tried to push their faces from my mind. But they were there, in the darkness with me. Watching.

  Shit.

  I slipped the damn headset back on and was greeted with a fresh wave of nausea at the macabre sacrifice room. This place had been used for human sacrifices. I mean … it fit the Lovecraft motif, right? There were always cultists running around trying to appease or wake up some kind of cosmic monstrosities like Cthulhu or Dagon or whatever.

  So my attacker was a cultist. And where there’s one cultist, there’s sure to be an assload of cultists. Kind of a package deal.

  Meaning I needed to get out of here as quickly as possible.

  I retraced my steps back to the storeroom and slipped inside. From there, I stumbled toward that staircase, still feeling a little dazed. I’d played hundreds of video games, but none had ever so harrowed me as this one.

  Yeah, this park would make millions.

  As quickly as I could without slipping, I climbed out of the staircase and up into the bushes. I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the afternoon sun. It had seemed dreary before, but after the darkness below, it seemed nearly blinding now.

  From the bushes, I glanced at the churches. No doubt the site of more cultists.