EleMental: A First-person Shooter

Chapter 7: First EleMental: The Hall of the Mountain Dragon

After a crash of music, a single, bold word materialized over their heads.

EleMental

The letters shattered into pieces and, from somewhere off-v’space, an oil-black dragon swept into the room, its forelegs and talons extended. This close, its giant, beating wings, rooted to its muscular, scaly back, were largely out of view. Their beating was a continuous whomph that hammered in their ears. On its rolling head sat a golden crown; it glinted behind its stubby horns and above its searching eyes. Willis saw its gaze register them and two jets of flame flared from its nostrils like fiery whipsnakes trying to strike at them.

Willis dropped to his knees, crouching and peering up through the fingers of both his hands. Zeb barely moved. He evaded the flames with ease, smiling broadly, and shifting his body only as necessary. When the dragon swept back off-v’space, Willis heard his own piercing shriek; he heard it in a removed way, as if he’d fled himself.

Zeb grinned down at him, his hands on his hips. ‘Screaming can be fun sometimes. But this is just the credits.’

Then came music, it picked up a beat, growing into an electro-thrash thumping. And new words floated into the room.

First EleMental: The Hall of the Mountain Dragon

Then smaller words: Produced by Grimble Dower. Directed by Grimble Dower. From an idea by Gr—

‘Attention game,’ Zeb snapped. ‘Skip credits.’

The words disappeared and the music dropped to nothing. After a pause a voice spoke. Male. Polite. Vaguely familiar. ‘Number of players?’

‘Two,’ said Zeb.

‘Opponents in combat with one another?’

Zeb looked Willis up and down. ‘Better not,’ he said. ‘Make it co-op.’

‘Names?’

‘Zeb,’ said Zeb and looked expectantly at Willis.

‘Oh, erh, and Willis,’ said Willis.

Zeb smiled softly. ‘Attention game. Correction. Cut: Oh erh and Willis. Replace: Willis.’

Willis nodded a thank you, too fearful to speak.

The four walls and ceiling of Zeb’s bedroom melted away. They stood in a hot, scrubby wasteland. Willis squinted in the brightness.

Zeb spread his arms wide. ‘Whoa! Check out these eLusions. This is zipgen physics at its best. The frame rate must be insane! And this heat is … hot.’

‘Score,’ said the v’voice. ‘Zeb: zero; Willis: zero; mountain dragon: zero.’

‘What’s this over here?’ Zeb said. He ran over to something on the ground and took a deep whiff. ‘Phwoar! That’s gotta be the worst, best, highest-res rotting dead animal I’ve ever laid eyes on. Fan-zoomin-tastic.’

Willis sidled over, looked and looked away. Black bugs, some shiny and hard, others long and soft, swarmed over a rank carcass, feasting on its internal organs. It was hard to identify what the creature might once have been. A giant wolf or hound of some kind?

Zeb had already moved on, looking bored. He threw his head up to the sky. He gazed down at the parched ground, his brow knitted. He kicked at some stones. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and puffed out his cheeks. Finally, he looked at Willis, who had been watching him. ‘Hell,’ he said. ‘I hate slow beginnings. Where’s the horrocore? Any monsters will do.’ He looked around again. This time something in the distance caught his attention. He stared at the horizon and pointed. ‘The virtual draw distance is immense. What’s that way, way over there?’