Reborn to Devour: A Demonic LitRPG

Bright light with the intensity of a floodlight directly to the face blinded my eyes and disoriented me. I held out my hand and took a few stumbling steps like I had just left a movie theater in the middle of the day. I finally blinked myself into normalcy and surveyed my new surroundings.

I found myself in an ethereal realm of pure white as far as I could see. It was devoid of sound or smell. Though I could feel the rocky ground beneath my feet, I could not see it.

The hulking form of Pýlicles’ corpse was nowhere to be found either. It was possible that we were transported to separate areas. There was no destination listed on the Portal.

No messages congratulated me or offered me snide advice as to what I should do next. It was just me, myself, and I awash in an endless landscape. It seemed as though the training wheels were finally off the bike and dear old Dad just pushed me down a steep hill directly into a padded white room.

I heard the giggle of a child. From the dearth of horror movies that Miranda used to make me watch late hours of the night, I knew that it was not a good sign. The sort of child that could purchase a ticket to Hell must be a favorite of these infernal beasts.

A small silhouette appeared out of thin air around a hundred feet away from me. They were quickly running towards me. Their arms flopped and flailed against their chest, not yet learning how to properly run. I splayed apart my claws in preparation of an attack, but saw no health bar appear over its head.

An illusion perhaps?

With arms wide apart, the child wrapped their arms around me and squeezed me. Tiny arms pressed ineffectively against my scales, dealing no damage. Actually, there was no feeling from the hug; no warmth or pressure came from the thin arms. Their head tilted up to face me and I began to laugh at what I saw. It was someone that I had never met; only experienced in photographs and video on a smudgy phone through a pane of shock-resistant glass.

He shared my features. My old, non-reptilian, features. Icy blue eyes shone in Miranda’s sunken sockets. My nose, my mouth, and my deadpan expression. A shock of his mother’s reddish brown hair sprouted from his head.

“Daddy,” he said in a voice that I never heard in life.

“Of course,” I chuckled bitterly down at the visage. “The only one that could beat me to Hell would be my own child. Hello, Gunner.”

I lowered my hand to touch the illusion of my son on his head and tussle his hair. But, I stopped myself just short of making contact. Would he disappear if touched him? Would I be left alone?

Before I could think further, Gunner turned around and began walking in the direction that he came from. He took a few steps before looking over his shoulder at me. Expectant eyes watched me with unfamiliar fondness. He turned to continue onwards and I followed. If it was divinity, then I would not abandon it. If it was a trap, I was likely being led to the source.

We marched through the nothingness, the ever-changing rocky sensation beneath my scaled feet was the only indication that we were moving at all. Every few steps, Gunner would turn around to make sure that I was still there; that I hadn’t disappeared again.

“Did Carl and Lydia tell you about me?” I asked when he turned around again. “Are you still told that Miranda is your sister?”

He only giggled in answer before pressing onwards. It sounded exactly like it did in the videos.

“Why is it that you’re here?” I questioned. An itchy sensation covered my body that even an illusion of him had to see me like this.

It was the shame of a father to be seen as a monster. It was bizarre how something in my chest and my mind felt for this boy in a way that I did not feel for others I knew far better. Was it because he was Miranda’s son? Outside of my brother, she was the only other person that made me feel these fluttering emotions, this shame. Even when she broke herself, when rehab failed, and when I tracked down the fucker that made her relapse to turn him into paste, I still felt that same way about her.

But, it was not her presence that haunted me. Her gaunt body and hollow eyes did not look at me with wordless disappointment. She did not rebuke me for abandoning her, for leaving her in that dingy apartment to waste away. It was her son; our son.

Why?

Still, no answer came from Gunner. He just dutifully led his dead father further and further down the stony path with no end; leaving me the burden of doing all the thinking of why I felt so affected by a facsimile of my child.

There was much that I robbed myself when I took the lives of others for work and my own amusement. I didn’t get to watch the Falcon’s Superbowl at Carl’s house, even if the game did end in the shittiest way possible. I missed Kenny’s graduation. I never got to go to Key West and float in the waves.

I wasn’t able to be there for Miranda when she relapsed for a second time. I didn’t support her when she was giving birth to Gunner. I didn’t get to help name him. I didn’t hold him or change him or teach him to play sports.

“Are you my regret?” I asked.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me with a smile. I was filled with a deep discomfort and took a step away from him. But, I needed to take a page out of the advice I gave to Squealer. In the eyes of the Almighty, there is no shadow to hide under, even from yourself. I regret that I was not there for a child. I regret that it would set him up for more difficulty than most. I regret that there is a possibility that he can become just like me without anyone to tell him what he should do. I might have birthed a monster worse than myself.

“I’m sorry, Gunner,” I said, placing a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Suddenly, it felt like the landscape was moving us forwards. However, my feet remained planted against the ground. A strong sense of vertigo passed over me, almost knocking me over.

We were left standing in a room with four tunnels placed equidistantly apart from each other. There was no visible difference between them apart from their location in the room. No labels or messages from the red-stained boxes would assist me in this decision.

Gunner walked away from me and approached the tunnel furthest to the left. He smiled and waved at me from his spot. I felt a strong compulsion to enter the tunnel that my son showed me. I was filled with the feeling that, by choosing it, everything would somehow be better. If I did this things could be different.

But, I could not obey those positive feelings. I did not have the right to trust my son, nor did I fully trust the powers at be. This was either my salvation or a prelude to deeper torture. Despite what my heart tried to compel me to do, my mind ordered me to do the opposite.

I walked away from Gunner, instead, choosing the tunnel exactly opposite of him. Just as I had in life, I must ensure distance in death.

“Sorry, son,” I apologized, the title still feeling strange and undeserved upon my tongue. “I cannot follow the path you’ve chosen. If I do, it puts us at risk of meeting and I am someone that you should never meet. Listen to your grandparents and don’t let me catch you down here again.”

With that, I turned away from Gunner and wandered down my chosen tunnel. The rocky surface I walked on slowly softened into sucking mud and gritty sand. The scent of burning rubber filled my nose, taking me back to the time I’d do burnouts in the parking lot of an abandoned mall with my friends. The heat remained but became more oppressive as moisture accumulated in the air.

It was only now that I walked confidently down this path that the distributor of these messages deigned to speak to me again. I was almost relieved to see their message. But, the contents of this one had far more for me to consider than usual.

Main Quest: Keys to the Kingdom (1).

You have escaped the Bowels, showing the afterworld that you are talented and determined enough to succeed. For you, damnation is not the end. But, what is the end? Only those that stand at the top are capable of seeing existence for what it truly is. If you stand at the pinnacle of these realms, you can forge the destinies of all within and without. Conquer all or suffer eternally. But, those dreams are pointless unless you reach the next area. Keep pushing, little Sisyphus.