Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1) Arthur Stone (hardest books to read .txt) 📖

Something rushed at me from this darkness. Something revoltingly pale and scary, and most definitely not human. A strange breath wafted into my face, punctuated by hissing sounds that added into words.

“Don’t toooouch! It’sssss miiiiineeeee! Miiiiineeeee!”

More rolling thunder shook the ground underneath my feet, and the next flash of lightning illuminated the physical details of the creature that spoke to me.

At that point I let out a scream. A terrifying, bloodcurdling scream.

In unison with the ghoul. The creature screamed on top of his lungs, much like a human might, backing away until he stumbled and fell. When the next flash of lightning came, I glimpsed him scampering away on all fours to the far corner of the barn.

When darkness fell again, it was absolute. I had accidentally let go of the corner of the mat, which now blocked the doorway like a blackout shade, filtering almost all the light from subsequent flashes of lightning.

The next half-hour was probably the longest of my life. It wasn’t that I was terrified. If I was, the foul weather wouldn’t have stopped me—better to spend the night under pouring rain than next to an alien creature capable of sucking you dry.

My head was still with me, however. Recalling my previous reflections, I further reasoned that no one would keep an actual vampire in the fort. People liked to talk—that much was obvious—but the reality was that, despite Beko’s strange appearance, he did not feed on human flesh.

Furthermore, he seemed to be just as afraid of me as I was of him. If not more so. As I sat by the exit, glancing warily in his direction, he was curled up in a dark corner, squealing and sobbing through his fear. Unless those sounds were some kind of feature of his race, Beko was apparently weeping his eyes out, whereas I wasn’t even thinking of shedding a tear.

The claps of thunder softened right about the time water started dripping on top of my head. The roof was far from solid, it would seem, leaking in numerous places.

It took some effort to find a dry spot.

“You’re a real slacker, Beko. You could have fixed up your roof, at least.”

“It’s miiineee,” came the reply in an uncertain drawl.

“It’s yours, it’s yours. Don’t you worry. Whatever it is.”

“You won’t take away?” asked a suspicious voice from the corner.

“I told you, it’s yours. I have utmost respect for private property rights.”

“Mine. It’s mine. It’ll stay with me,” Beko concluded in a pitiable tone, then inquired about the most important matter. “Will you beat me hard?”

“Why would I beat you?”

“I don’t know. No one ever tells me why. They just beat me and take what’s mine. You want to do the same, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah, it’s my life’s dream. Calm down already, will you? I’m not here to fight. Ash assigned me to your team.”

“Ash?! Team?! There is no team! Ash doesn’t care about me! You’re lying!”

“I’m not. I arrived here with a caravan. Ash himself ordered me to join you.”

“I see,” a suddenly tense voice replied from the darkness. “Ash plans to take what’s mine. But no! I won’t allow it! It’s mine!”

I groaned. “Quit making things harder than they are. You’re right, Ash doesn’t care about you. Nor me. He called you a useless freak, and me a useless cripple. And that if we team up, we might become one serviceable worker. So you and I are to work together, got it? Maybe we’ll even build a career here. Get a promotion, become bigwigs, and move into a slightly larger barn. Now quit crying, eh? You and I are the same, so there’s no sense of being scared of each other.”

“You won’t take it away?” the voice from the darkness seemed only slightly more reassured.

The repetitive nature of our exchange was starting to grate on me. It was time to whip out heavy artillery so as to prove my intentions not to infringe on my new roommate’s property.

“No, I won’t. I’ll even share mine with you. Want some bread with lard?”

“Of course. But I don’t have any.”

“I do.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“The smell told me.”

“So you’ve got a good sense of smell, huh?”

“The lard smells strong,” Beko replied. I could almost hear him salivating.

“Got a knife?” I asked.

“You’re thinking of gutting me, aren’t you?!” the ghoul was back to his wary self.

“Use your head! How am I supposed to share the lard with you? It’s a big chunk that needs to be cut.”

“You’re going to share the lard? With me?!” the voice exclaimed with a mix of suspicion and desperate hope.

“Yes, I am. And some bread, too. There’s not much of it, and it’s hard. But without mold.”

“Rhyne flour,” Beko declared expertly. “I don’t have a knife, but I’ve got a splinter. It’s pretty sharp, should have no problem cutting lard. The rind, too, if it’s not too tough.”

“Good idea. But it’ll be hard to do in this darkness.”

“It’s about to get light,” Beko made a mysterious promise.

The ghoul applied a standard solution to the lighting problem. Somewhere in his dark corner he stored a tiny straw cage that held several fat fireflies of the local variety. Krol had had a similar one. According to the coachman, if you fed these insects well, you could save a year’s worth of expenses on candles and torches.

The light-source wasn’t a 100 watt lamp or anything, but strong enough to disperse the total gloom of the barn. The scant light allowed me to get a better look at Beko. Indeed, the ghoul inspired tears more than he did fear.

Of the many things nature deprived me of, height wasn’t among them. I was as tall as most boys my age. My