Gods of Blood and Bone (Seeds of Chaos Book 1) Page 3
—Bunny—
I bit the inside of my lip again, this time for a different reason, but held my irritation back as I always did. I wanted to set Bunny straight, but there was nothing I could say. There was nothing special about me at all. I wasn’t a great student, I wasn’t pretty, and I was especially nonathletic. I was the type of person who was mostly ignored, except for the occasional bullying. An invisible girl. But that didn’t mean my jaw didn’t clench and my tongue didn’t burn with the desire to spit something cutting at the screen.
Instead, I said, “Display Quests.”
INTRODUCTION TO USER INTERFACE–STATUS WINDOW
USE VOICE COMMAND “DISPLAY STATUS WINDOW.”
COMPLETION REWARD: 5 EXPNON-COMPLETION PENALTY: NONE
I followed its instructions, and a larger window popped up.
PLAYER NAME: EVE REDDING
TITLE: NONECHARACTERISTIC SKILL: N/A
LEVEL: 1UNPLANTED SEEDS: 1
SKILLS: NONE
STRENGTH: 7
LIFE: 12
AGILITY: 4
GRACE: 4
INTELLIGENCE: 10
FOCUS: 8
BEAUTY: 4
PHYSIQUE: 5
MANUAL DEXTERITY: 7
MENTAL ACUITY: 10
RESILIENCE: 5
STAMINA: 6
PERCEPTION: 7
A small, quickly fading window slid into my peripheral vision, telling me I’d gained five experience points, and giving me instructions for the next part of the “chain” quest.
“These are measures of…me?”
YES.
—Bunny—
I poked at the word “Strength” on the screen.
STRENGTH: ABILITY TO EXERT PHYSICAL FORCE.
“I’m level seven strength? Seven out of what?”
7 OUT OF INFINITY. THOUGH IF YOU DON’T LEVEL UP ANY OF THE BALANCING ATTRIBUTES, YOU WILL REACH A POINT WHERE YOUR BODY IS SO STRONG IT’LL DESTROY ITSELF. USE THE ATTRIBUTE WINDOW TO DISPLAY ALL OF THEM AT ONCE.
—Bunny—
“Display Attributes,” I said. Another EXP gain notification popped up, along with a larger window.
ATTRIBUTE
LEVEL
STRENGTH: ABILITY TO EXERT PHYSICAL FORCE.
7
AGILITY: PHYSICAL ABILITY TO INITIATE QUICK-TWITCH MUSCLE MOVEMENTS.
4
MANUAL DEXTERITY: ABILITY TO UTILIZE FINE MOTOR CONTROL.
7
INTELLIGENCE: ABILITY TO REMEMBER DATA AND EMPLOY REASONING.
10
MENTAL ACUITY: ABILITY TO THINK AND DRAW CONCLUSIONS QUICKLY.
10
FOCUS: ABILITY TO CONCENTRATE ATTENTION ON A SPECIFIC ISSUE.
8
PHYSIQUE: PHYSICAL APPEARANCE OF THE BODY’S FORM, CONFORMING TO THE WISHES OF THE PLAYER.
5
BEAUTY: ATTRACTIVENESS OF THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE, SPECIFICALLY THE FACE, CONFORMING TO THE WISHES OF THE PLAYER.
4
GRACE: ABILITY TO CONTROL THE FLOW AND CONSEQUENCE OF BODY MOVEMENTS.
4
RESILIENCE: ABILITY TO RECOVER FROM DAMAGE AND MENTAL AND PHYSICAL EXHAUSTION.
5
STAMINA: MEASURE OF HOW MUCH PHYSICAL OR MENTAL FORCE CAN BE EXERTED BEFORE BECOMING EXHAUSTED.
6
PERCEPTION: ABILITY TO SENSE BOTH THE PHYSICAL AND THE IMPLIED.
7
LIFE: MEASURE OF HOW MUCH DAMAGE CAN BE ABSORBED BEFORE DYING.
12
UNPLANTED SEEDS: 1
NOW PICK ONE, HOLD YOUR SEED TO YOUR WRIST OR YOUR NECK, AND MAKE A WISH FOR WHICHEVER ATTRIBUTE YOU WANT TO INCREASE LEVELS.
—Bunny—
I pulled out the little marble-like ball from under my pillow again and held it in my hand, studying it. The sun shone through my window and fell onto the Seed. It was beautiful, that liquid swirling around inside, glimmering in the light. Once again, the words rose to the surface, prompting me to make a wish.
“Is it addictive, like, a drug? That guy who got me into all this, he seemed pretty desperate to get his hands on another one.”
YOU’VE ALREADY HAD 1. DO YOU FEEL ADDICTED?
—Bunny—
I raised an eyebrow and snorted. “Quite the opposite. That thing almost killed me.”
WELL, THAT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN. YOUR BODY’S ALREADY ADJUSTED TO IT.
—Bunny—
“How do you know?”
BECAUSE YOU’RE ALIVE.
—Bunny—
I stilled and let out a slow breath.
AND NO, THERE ARE NO PHYSICALLY ADDICTIVE PROPERTIES TO THE SEEDS.
—Bunny—
“Physically, huh? What about mentally, or psychologically?” I wasn’t stupid enough to be comforted by his not-quite-a-lie words.
…SOME PEOPLE DO BECOME OBSESSED. FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. WE’RE GIVING YOU THE ABILITY TO MAKE YOURSELF BETTER.
—Bunny—
Ah. That was the question. “Why are you doing this? All this?” I gestured vaguely to myself and the screens hanging invisibly in the air. “Giving us this?”
THAT ONE, I’LL LEAVE TO YOUR IMAGINATION. PERHAPS YOU’LL DISCOVER THE ANSWER IN TIME.
—Bunny—
I shook my head, frustrated at the general lack of answers. A wish? What could I wish for that would make my life better if it actually worked? This was the modern day, and I wasn’t an athlete or a man, so things like strength would be largely useless. Intelligence would be good, but hard to measure. Would I feel smarter? My eyes caught on Beauty. That would be easy to compare, before and after. And all that crap about the inside being what mattered and people who professed not to be affected by appearances…it was all bull. People cared about appearances. Attractiveness, beauty, made a big difference. And as someone who didn’t have it, I felt its lack.
I grabbed the Seed, went to the bathroom, and locked the door, then stripped down to my underwear. I started the video recording function on both the body length wall mirror and the half-size one above the sink, and said, “Okay. What exactly do I have to say?”
JUST SAY SOMETHING LIKE, “I WISH I WERE MORE AGILE,” AND THE SEED WILL INJECT ITSELF INTO YOU. IT’S CALLED “PLANTING” THE SEED.
—Bunny—
I swallowed painfully and stared at myself in the mirror. Body too tall, and chubby. Slightly crooked nose, pale, thin lips, pimples. “There’s no way this is going to work.” I pressed the Seed into my wrist, above the veins. “I wish I was more beautiful.”
There was a sharp pain, and the Seed injected its contents into me.
As soon as it was empty, I felt it detach from my skin, and peered at the place it had cut. The small piercing was almost gone already, and as I watched, it healed itself.
I put the Seed down on the tiled counter as a horrible realization swept through me. “What have I done?” This was dangerous. Reckless. And I just went ahead with this strange entity in my head and injected an unknown substance into myself?
I waited to feel sick or dizzy, like I had the last time. I waited to die, to feel high, anything. But nothing happened.
It seemed like an eternity, but after no more than a minute had passed, it started. My skin began to warm and tingle strangely, especially the skin of my face. It itched painfully, and when I put my hand to my cheek, I could feel the heat radiating outward.
I sat down on the toilet seat and tried to control my panicked breathing. I put my hands underneath my butt to resist the urge to claw at my skin. Just when I was about to rush out of the bathroom and do something stupid, though I didn’t know what that might be just yet, the tingling-burning-itching calmed down, and continued to dissipate with each passing second. My skin cooled, and I stood up and shakily walked over to the bathroom counter, leaning on it for support.
I leaned toward the mirror above the sink, looking at my face for any sign of change, good or bad. “It’s my imagination.”
IT’S NOT.
—Bunny—
&nb
sp; I lifted a hand and ran my fingers lightly over my skin. Soft, fewer blemishes. My nose was still crooked, but perhaps not as much. My eyes, my best feature, stood out, and I brushed my fingers over the thickened eyelashes framing them, and then over my lips. Still thin and pale, but … better? I took a deep breath and closed my eyes against the view in the mirror. This could be a placebo effect—me wanting it to be true so badly I imagined an improvement.
“Calm down.” I took another deep breath and said it again. “Calm down.” It wasn’t time to get excited yet. I stopped the mirrors’ recording and downloaded the videos to my ID sheath. Then I snapped the sheath straight and replayed the two video viewpoints side by side on its clear surface. Once over my whole body, and again zoomed in to my face. Then I watched in fast forward, again, and again.
I couldn’t stay still; I pushed back from the counter to pace back and forth across the room. My hands were shaking, and I wrapped my arms around my torso as if to keep myself from exploding and flying apart. I muttered calming words to myself, trying to slow my ragged breathing.
There was a light tapping on the bathroom door. “Eve? Are you okay?” Zed’s voice filtered through. “You’ve been in there a while.”
I cleared my throat and steadied my voice. “I’ll be right out. I’m fine.” I slipped my clothes back on.
Zed’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Are you sure?”
I flushed the toilet to give some rationale to my long stay in the bathroom, and spritzed the “fresh air scent” dispenser. I needed to pull myself together. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
In the mirror above the sink, I looked at myself. Pale, pale blue eyes, wide and shocked, stared back at me. The lids slid down over those eyes, and I turned on the sink to splash cold water over my face and rinse my mouth out.
I lifted the hem of my T-shirt and used it to dry my face, pushed back my shoulders, and opened the door. “Promise, I’m feeling much better.”
My brother stood right outside with, jaw clenched hard and a worried frown across his handsome face. When he saw me, it slipped a little. “You do look…recovered, but you were just really sick. Do you want to go lay down? I’ll bring you some lemon water with a straw, if you want.”
I rolled my eyes, patted him on the shoulder, and shook my head. “No, I’m really fine. Don’t worry. I had to poop. Thanks for making such a huge deal of it.”
He looked chagrined, and I slipped past him, back to my room, and closed the door behind me.
“Thinking about it abstractly is one thing. Seeing is another thing entirely,” I murmured, looking at my new, slightly more beautiful face in the mirror on my wall.
* * *
I paced the carpeted floor of my room, back and forth, back and forth. “Bunny!” I hissed into the empty air. “I need to talk to you!” It was the umpteenth time I’d called, and at this point I wasn’t even expecting a response anymore.
But as if to prove me wrong, a window popped up in front of my face.
WILL YOU STOP CALLING ME FOR TWO SECONDS? EVERY TIME YOU SAY MY NAME I’M FORCED TO DIVERT MY ATTENTION FROM MORE IMPORTANT THINGS. JUST BE QUIET, WILL YOU?
—Bunny—
“What more important things? I’m freaking out here. I need answers! How do these things work? What just happened should be impossible.” I’d searched the net for any reference to what I’d just experienced, but couldn’t find anything. Not surprising, as that would be a violation of the Game rules.
I HAVE OTHER PLAYERS TO DEAL WITH. ONES WITH REAL PROBLEMS. AND QUITE FRANKLY, YOUR CURIOSITY IS NOT OF GREAT INTEREST TO ME.
—Bunny—
I paused. “Other Players? How many? Are there other Moderators, too?”
EVE. STOP. IF YOU’LL LEAVE ME ALONE FOR NOW, WE’LL TALK LATER. HERE’S SOMETHING TO OCCUPY YOU. DON’T CALL ME AGAIN UNTIL YOU’VE FINISHED THE QUEST.
—Bunny—
EXERCISE
RUN 2 MILES
COMPLETION REWARD: 15 EXPNON-COMPLETION PENALTY: BUNNY WILL NOT ANSWER QUESTIONS.
I waved my hand across the screen as if waving away a fly, and it disintegrated. But I didn’t call for Bunny again. I was impatient, but I would wait to do as Bunny said. It…he…she? was the source of all my information and my Seeds, and its good will was valuable. Plus, fifteen more experience points would put me over the halfway mark toward my next Seed.
“Breakfast!” My mother’s voice rang out from the kitchen, and I realized that I was once again starving.
I went into the kitchen and piled my plate high with food.
She sat down across from Zed and me, tapping a message or report for work on her forearm sheath. I shot Zed a look, and he rolled his eyes at her bowed head with an amused smile. She always insisted that we have at least one meal per week together as a family, but still managed to be half-distracted, every time. We acknowledged the irony, but that was a sort of tradition in its own right.
My mother’s eyes caught on me as she looked up. Her lips tightened imperceptibly as her gaze roamed over me and then to my plate. “Eve, do you really think you should be eating…all that? If you want to be healthy, you really need to monitor yourself a bit more.” Her voice paused noticeably before “healthy,” and I knew what she really meant was, “skinny.” She herself was a beauty, but the only thing we had in common was thick, straight, almost-black hair.
“You’ve just lost some weight. Wouldn’t you feel better if you could keep it off?” She smiled at me gently, but there was something else hiding in her voice. Disappointment, and maybe some sadness, too. I was less than the beautiful, popular, perfect counterpart to Zed.
Her words stung, but I knew she didn’t say them to be cruel. She was just lacking in tact. At least that’s what I told myself.
I swallowed, and felt the food sitting heavy in my stomach. I’d lost my appetite, and anyway, running two miles on a full stomach was just begging to throw it all back up. Especially in the shape I was in.
I stood up and shoveled the food on my plate down the disposal chute, then went to my room to slip on a pair of runners and a sports bra. “I’m going for a jog,” I called out as I left the house, and I saw Zed throw a hard glance at my mother over my shoulder.
I started out at a nice slow run. Almost instantly I was down to a jog, and not long after that I was doing some floundery, bouncing motion that had people on the street passing me at a brisk walk. I took the same path I normally walked on my way to school and stopped when I saw the alley.
It was empty. Innocent-looking.
I stopped jogging and walked toward it, my chest heaving, air and smog burning in and out of my lungs.
They’d known where I was going to be that morning. They’d known who I was. And Bunny could see me, I knew, though he hadn’t affirmed my suspicion. Which meant… I looked around suspiciously. Was I being monitored, watched? That guy across the street just shot me a look. Was he following me? I looked behind myself, and a woman briefly met my eyes and then looked away.
“I’m probably just being paranoid,” I gasped to myself. But even so, I started pushing my body harder. I took an abrupt turn at the next alley, and then ran through it, turning once again when it opened up on the parallel street. I kept going till a Window slid up, telling me I’d completed my quest. I found myself in an old dilapidated parking lot, gasping for breath and unable to keep moving.
GOOD JOB. THOUGH…YOU LOOK KIND OF LIKE A SEAL GIVING BIRTH, SO SWEATY, AND GASPING LIKE THAT.
—Bunny—
“You were…watching me?”
HMM. MORE OR LESS. I DIDN’T HAVE ANYTHING MORE PRESSING TO DO AT THE MOMENT, SINCE I DEALT WITH MY OTHER SITUATION.
—Bunny—
I hobbled over to a light pole and leaned against it. That was why I didn’t like to exercise. It freaking hurt! “Do you have people…following me?” A few more deep breaths of disgusting air. “Keeping tabs on me?”
WHY WOULD WE WASTE RESOURCES LIKE THAT? YOUR LOCATION IS TRACKED ELECTRON
ICALLY, AND AT ANY SECOND, I CAN FIND A CAMERA TO MONITOR YOU.
—Bunny—
“You’ve got GPS on me?”
YES. DUH. YOU’RE AN ASSET; DO YOU THINK WE’D JUST LET YOU RUN AROUND WITHOUT KNOWING WHERE YOU ARE AND BEING ABLE TO FIND OUT WHAT YOU’RE DOING?
—Bunny—
So, GPS, and obviously he could see and hear me, which meant the people behind all this probably had access to the government’s internal surveillance network. And probably satellites, too.
Around the time they’d created the enforcers, the government planted listening devices and cameras throughout every city, to monitor and search for potential threats to the nation’s safety.
“Plus you put cameras in my house?”
YES. BUT DON’T BOTHER TRYING TO FIND THEM. YOU WON’T.
—Bunny—
“Do other people watch me, or is it just you? Is Bunny even your name? What kind of name is that? You could be a hundred different people for all I know, all pretending to be ‘Bunny.’ ”
RUDE MUCH? I DON’T INSULT YOUR NAME. >:(
MY SUPERIORS HAVE ACCESS TO THE FILES OF INDIVIDUAL PLAYERS, BUT THEY NEVER USE THEM. IT’S JUST ME WATCHING YOU, ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY, AND I’M NOT A HUNDRED GUYS. JUST ONE. IT’S MY JOB TO KEEP TABS ON YOU AND WRITE REPORTS THAT NO ONE EVER READS ABOUT YOUR PROGRESS AND ACHIEVEMENTS.
—Bunny—
I closed my eyes. These people were powerful, had extensive resources, could access my high school medical tests, and had forcefully implanted a wish-fulfilling substance into me. “Who are you?”
THAT’S A SECRET.
—Bunny—
Chapter 4
Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.
— Mark Twain