Dad Friend Attempts the First Gate

Barry carefully crept towards the first gate, not sure what exactly he was doing. But what he did know was that he needed to advance. Many of the people he had met when they all first arrived had already made it to the Second Level. It was his turn now. Flipping on his Interface, he accessed his inventory and selected the spear. It appeared in his hand a moment later as he approached the invisible gate. "Hello? Anyone out there?"

There seemed at first to be nobody at the gate. The giant monolith whirred in the silence of the afternoon, cicadas purring from the nearby trees. But Barry was not alone. Above him, on the gate's sturdy metal frame, a figure stood, fifty feet in the air. His yellow eyes, pupils carving his wide irises, bore down on the player. He inhaled, and let out an earsplitting Caw.

The figure spread its wings. It began to drop. It held in its hands, with arms separate from the wings, a wooden spear, and it pointed it to the ground, pointed it at Barry. Its descent was rapid, the feathers fluttering, the wind slicing off its humanoid body.

Barry was forced to cover his ears when the Caw rang out. His head swung around, looking for the source of the call. The young adult spotted the spear heading straight towards him and in a moment of pure instinct, he dove out of the way, the spear only grazing his side. Keeping his own spear in hand, he clutched at the point where the spear scraped. Holding close to the bottom of the spear, he did a backspin and swung his weapon in a diagonal fashion. On his Interface, he saw the words 'Skill_2l' appear.

The birdman swooped and stabbed his spear, to moderate success, swerving out of the way to keep from an injury of his own. He pivoted up to meet the ground and fly back, though as Barry swung his weapon, a harsh whirlwind arose. The gatekeeper found himself blown back. He skidded to a halt a few meters away, his second attack stopped in its tracks.

"Ah, you little--" The 'man''s voice was high-pitched, a lisp escaping his beaklike mouth. He spread his wings as he straightened, a magnificent array of feathers, an eagle's wingspan painted onto a thin, unusual frame. The gatekeeper clutched his spear.

"I like your weapon," he commented, trying to muster a deep voice, his tone coming out artifical. "My name is Talonn, and I am the gatekeeper here. To pass, you must defeat me. You won't however--I am stronger than all the gatekeepers combined!"

Talonn let out a triumpant squawk, a cry that echoed through the trees. He promptly assumed a battle stance.

"Strike me, fool!"

Barry couldn't help himself. "If you were stronger than all the other Gatekeepers, why are you only for the First Level?" he asked mockingly, prepping his spear for another ability. Grabbing the middle of the spear, he stuck his arm out and begun twirling the spear. A dim 'skill_1l' flashed in the corner of his eye as a blast of energy came from the spear and headed towards the "strongest" gatekeeper.

The blast of energy took him off guard. Fool! He was asking him a question and not giving him time to answer! Talonn brought forth his mighty wings, curling them around his body. They met the blast, colliding with it in a shower of energy and sparks, and when it was gone, only a few feathers were spared. He unraveled his wings once more.

"My turn, fool!" he squawked, his voice as piercing as a siren. He brought his foot forward, and his wings carried him the rest of the way, the gatekeeper traveling at lightning speed towards the player. His spear was down and straight, aiming for the man's torso.

Barry knew shit was gonna hit the fan as the birdman flew down towards him seemingly faster than a bullet. The best he could think of to do was to point his spear back at the Gatekeeper in hopes that it would finish him off rather than just having damage done to Barry. He didn't want to be the loser to fail the first gate. Especially since his "competitors" were all children.

Talonn's spear went deep into Barry's stomach, coming out the other end in a spray of blood, the tip gleaming scarlet in the sun. He seemed to smile, though it also seemed to be a permanent thing with his beaked mouth; the air of confidence he exuded, the self-assured grunts, the triumphant stance as he gored the man--he knew he won. He believed he won. He didn't win.

His eyes, his wide eyes, showed a fear that his mouth didn't want to reciprocate, his groans twisting to unsteady, weak murmurs. Barry's spear was lodged in his chest, snagged in there. His legs wobbled, and suddenly, in a shower of pixels, the gatekeeper began to dissipate. He stepped back, but by that time his body had become a sheen of blue, cracking and falling off itself until he vanished completely.

Behind Barry, the gate began to dissipate as well, to topple in shards of translucence, breaking apart on top of itself. The gate had been beaten. But could Barry survive long enough to get to town?

Why didn't he feel any pain? He merely looked down at the spear in his chest and he nearly threw up. He looked away from his gaping wound and watched as the gatekeeper dissipated into a cloud of pixels. He smiled weakly and collapsed onto the ground. He had done it, but he was dying. The adrenaline and shock in his system prevented him from feeling pain, but he knew it was coming. He managed to pull the spear from his chest and began slowly crawling towards where the gate had been. Blood kept seeping from the huge wound but he kept pulling himself forward. His skin became paler and paler as his lifeblood coated the ground. There was no way he could make it. He resigned himself to curling up and waiting for the end to come. He closed his eyes and felt the darkness upon him. He accepted it and it felt like falling asleep. In fact, it was exactly like falling asleep because next thing he knew he woke up in a cold sweat in his living quarters back in Roslare. "What the hell was that?" he asked aloud in the empty room. A blinking notification from his Interface alerted him. He opened it up and noticed that he had a new tab. Death Markers. He shuddered, remembering how he had just died only a few moments before. Now he was down to two lives. He needed to be more careful.