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Initiating Character Creation…

Hexititilating Pixelixelgons…

Max’s vision was momentarily locked as his vision cleared. He stood before an infant floating within a long glass tube of bluish-green liquid. Chrome arms holding needles, scalpels, and other mysterious surgical tools hung like an impatient torturer.

With a snap he could control his head once again, and he glanced around. Surrounding him was a gleaming white laboratory of plastic and polished tile. The same blue liquid filled the tubes along each side of the room, and below him, a thick glass floor separated Max from a drop into oblivion. Countless more unborn children waited in stasis chambers.

A small display unfolded in the corner of his vision and Max returned his gaze to the child waiting inside the cloning tube. Four icons slid across the window bouncing against each other. A symbol for male and female sat side by side on an opaque white box. The third was a combination of both genders, and the last an empty circle. For a few seconds he waited for anything else to happen, then reached forward and touched Male.

Max was a sixth generation American, but his family initial hailed from the toe of the Sicilian boot. Out of ancestral respect he selected a Caucasian with European features. The preset male was a narrow faced dark haired Italian, and he immediately began to hack the handsome bastard apart. The chin, cheeks and nose he widened until the male looked more like an ancient Neanderthal. While he continued to make changes, needles filled with glowing liquid slid into the infant. Max paused to watch the small body slowly morphed in response. He left the hair charcoal black but changed his eye color to a dark forest green. He was no artist, and had no mirror, but it came out close enough to his original features. Satisfied with his efforts he touched the accept button.

Bubbles immediately filled the tube from below. Dark hair blossomed like wild grass across the infants scalp as it’s arms and legs lengthened. In less than a minute, the baby transformed into a gangly young boy. Another window slid into view, which was accompanied by a female voice.

"Please select your character’s statistics, you have five points which will never increase, so you must decide carefully on how to distribute them. Later you may reset your statistics for a heavy credit cost." Three categories appeared, and it continued after a second. "Strength determines carrying capacity, and helps with recoil control. Agility affects your movement speed. Endurance determines your stamina pool and adds additional health. Each stat starts with one point, and are capped at four. Spend your extra five points carefully.”

Without hesitation he maxed out the strength score, which brought it up to four points. On the right side of his screen the boy grew to over six feet tall with arms and legs like tree trunks. He could push the sliders around and make the character even taller, but six-foot-two was the shortest it would let him be. It seemed that strength also affected the characters natural body build.

That left him with two stat points, and for a minute he waffled between agility and endurance. The extra speed would be useful, but the extra stamina and health seemed like a better option. Of course he could just split the difference, but Max was never one to compromise. Finally, he pushed the Endurance slider up to three points and hit accept.

[Strength - ΟΟΟΟ]

[Agility - Ο...]

[Endurance - ΟΟΟ.]

Max confirmed his decision, and the cylinder churned with bubbles a second time. Soon his vision shifted, twisting around and falling into the tall tube. Bubbles and blue amniotic fluid filled his vision, but the viscous fluid quickly drained into holes in the floor. The glass case cracked open with a hiss of escaping steam, and a chill slid across his newborn body like the touch of a fall breeze. Max stepped out of the tube onto a thick rubber mat, and he took a second to admire himself.

The Seals did not slack, and he could run a 5k without warning, but the muscles on this new body put his old to shame. He closed his right fist and flexed a steroid enhanced bicep. Next to him sat a table of folded towels and a second with cloth bathrobes. Max spent several minutes cleaning the translucent blue fluid off. As he did, another genderless embryo slid into the tube behind him. Windows blossomed across the surface and the surgical arms worked as a new character was created. Max pulled a cotton bathrobe on over his naked frame, then stalked towards the only door in the room.

Just inside was a man wearing a black pinstripe suit and a pumpkin on his head. Behind him was a locker room covered in glowing green mist, and the sound of witches cackling. Max carefully stepped inside.

“Happy Halloween, and welcome to Gun Meister Online! You joined at an excellent time. I am Pumpkin Jack, your guide for this part of character creation.” The man said enthusiastically. “Would you like to take part in the unique event? Monsters and terrors await to pounce upon you from the shadows. Normally, you’d be able to pick a starting weapon and begin learning the game. However, if you brave the ‘House of Horrors’ you might gain something special.”

“The vixen at the bar mentioned the event. Sure, I'm game.”

“Excellent choice! Why don’t we start by getting dressed? In the lockers are uniforms for new players. You have a extra-large frame, so I suggest the ones to your left. Max opened the nearest locker. Inside was black cotton boxers, a bland gray military uniform, and a set wool socks. Under these sat a pair of black combat boots. Max pulled his robe off and quickly dressed. The guide spoke as Max finished tying his shoelaces.

“In Gun Meister, there is no inventory system, so everything must be worn. You will have to carry weapons, ammo, armor, and grenades into battle. Winning matches, killing enemies, and surviving will earn you credits. These credits can be used to purchase most items in the game except weapons." His confusion must have been evident because pumpkin head quickly added. “Weapons are NPC’s who can take human shape. I would gladly show you, but tonight’s event makes that a tad… dangerous.”

“So, is it trick or treat time?”

“Yes, further instructions will take place during the trip over.” Pumpkin-head replied gesturing towards a far door. Max pushed it open and stepped out onto the second floor veranda of a glass fronted lobby. The lights were out and the only illumination came from a larger-than-life blood moon. Bloody gore covered barricades had been hastily erected against the glass windows. Below him, a crowd of uniformed men and women surrounded an armored bus. Eyes warily watched street just beyond as shadowy figures darted back and forth.

“Good, the bus to the armory hasn’t left yet. Take the stairs to your left and join the others. I have to meet our newest victim.” Jack said with delightful menace. The door to the locker room closed, so Max walked quickly towards the stairs. He’d just reached the ground floor when a blood curdling scream stopped him cold. Something slammed into the barricade and shook the entire floor. Something quite big. His pulse quickened and he itched to hold a weapon in his hands.

Max walked into the cluster of players, all of them dressed in a bland gray uniform, as they laughed nervously. After a few seconds, they went back to talking in low whispers. He walked up to an old metro bus covered in spiked steel plates. Sharpened metal scrap had been welded to the wheel hubs, and barb wire covered the front of the cab. Standing by the door was a zombie. At least Max hoped he was because half its face was missing. Everything from his left eye to his left ear was a decayed mass of bone and cartilage.

“That’s it! Twenty lost souls!” The dead man said. He waved a megaphone over his head, then pointed it at the group of players. “Welcome to the Dead Man’s Ferry,” he added gesturing grandly to the armored bus. Max got into line behind two girls as everyone quickly climbed aboard. Both had long blond hair and fine elfin features. The first turned to him with a beatific smile.

“Hello!”

“Hi there,” he replied letting his gaze roam over both. One was several inches shorter with the legs of an athletic runner. The other had bright green hair and body more accustomed to swimming. Neither stood out as beautiful, but he smiled at them non-the-less.

“Are you excited?”

“I sure am, I love scary movies.” He replied just before something outside screamed again. Both women tittered nervously again.

“Destiny,” the shorter one said holding out a hand.

“Max,”

“I haven’t decided on a name,” the second added but shook his hand next.

“A friend of ours suggested we try this.”

“I dunno, It’s looks so scary and the Guide said there aren’t any levels. I kind of like Nigmus more.”

“Don’t be a pansy. Halloween is only for tonight. Richard said they’re running tons of events like this, so we’re bound to find something good. Besides, If you don’t like it, we can try Star Nova instead.”

Both girls stopped at the top of the stairs and squealed in fright. The Grim Reaper sat in the drivers seat wearing a tattered black robe. Black oily smoke poured from every tear and opening. His soulless empty eyes turned toward them from under a heavy hood. It’s gaze made the shadows nearby lengthen, and the women backed into him trying to escape. Max snorted, grabbed both girls from behind and shoved toward isle.

They fought him in terror and he was forced to pick up both women. Max laughed and carried the squealing blonds down the aisle. He was liking his new body and the prodigious amount of strength it gave him. At first empty seat, he dumped both into and sat on the opposite side. They glared at him before bolting for the door, but the zombie with the megaphone entered the bus last. He grinned at them with half his face and they backed away.

The other players jeered the girls as they scrambled back into their empty seats. Max glanced back down the aisle at the sea of faces. Most we male, and other than the two girls there was a single androgynous person staring out of the armored windows.

At the front of the bus the megaphone crackled and everyone turned their attention on the dead zombie. “We are going to head to the Armory, but before we head out I’ll explain tonights event.”

“Unregistered weapons have been turned into monsters. Instead of brains, they are looking for Meisters with open contract slots. You little chicks smell like ambrosia to them right now, which is why we are taking you to the house of horrors in this.” The zombie said smashing a rotting hand on the buses closest support. The bus started with a cantankerous diesel cough. Creatures of every description screamed with delight as the barricade slid aside. They leapt upon the armored bus as it cleared the lobby’s lights. Next to Max a fist sized dent smashed into the armored plate. Something crashed into the front cab clawing at the ballistic glass, and the women opposite Max screamed again.

Their zombie guide seemed genuinely amused by the display. By the second street corner the bus was mobbed by screaming monsters—all of them intent on the juicy flesh inside. Several clawed hands burst through the thinner plates, and Max was forced away from the windows. They scrabbled for anything to latch onto. One stupid bastard tried to grab a clawed hand. His wrist and arm were seized and dragged through the hole in the bus. The man let out a sharp pained screamed falling back into the isle. What was left was a bloody stump with some stringy muscle attached. As he died the Zombie guide stepped forward and raised his bullhorn. It gave off a short blast which caught everyones attention.

“The monsters you encounter will be pistols, with few exceptions. They will seek to kill or contract with you—possibly at the same time. Hidden within the maze of rooms are five golden eggs. Should you get one—fat chance.” The zombie said coughing into his first. From his back pocket he produced a battered whiskey flask and chugged it. Brown liquid seeped out of several holes in the corpse’s stomach and stained and already dirty shirt. He capping the bottle and put it away.

“Also, if you survive the night you’ll gain a unique weapon, but dawn is—” He added then paused to check a cracked wrist watch. “Nine hours, and some change away.”

Max glanced at the rest of the players. At the mention of a special prize they all seemed to perk up, but at that moment the assault on the metro renewed. More creatures clawed at the roof and reached in through the many rents. The bus swerved into a parking lot, and the headlights illuminated a hundred rusty and disused cars. They approached an ungrounded garage and the monsters outside let out angry cries before jumping free. The metro came to a stop within a bright pool of light set up several work-lights.

“Get into the elevator. It will take you to the fifth floor. You must survive with luck, intelligence, and courage. Light is your friend, use it to your advantage. Do not leave the building unless you register with a weapon.”

“Everyone clear on what to do?” The zombie asked and Max nodded along with everyone else.

“Have a great Halloween!” He exclaimed in satisfaction, then took a snub-nosed .38 from his pocket, and pushed the muzzle into his mouth. A second later, neon green brains and black blood decorated the bus’s ceiling. Everyone stared at the corpse as it landed in the aisle. Soon the revolver vanished in a flash of light. In the following silence, Death opened the bus’s door.

The first few players moved, finally, and everyone began to file off the bus. They stood in the circle of light wondering what to do.

“Can I have your scythe?” Max asked as he came abrest of the Reaper. A skull turned to face him and empty eyes stared at him for a few seconds. Then a bony skeletal hand—finger joints creaking—pointed past him to the elevators.

Taking the hint he climbed from the bus and glanced around. The space was pitch black except a few working lights immediately around the elevator. The buses headlights just barely illuminated a half dozen wrecked cars. Something howled just outside the garage and smashed dents into the rolling door. Claws raked the metal, which let in enough light to see dozens of monsters silently waiting in the shadows. The bus was surrounded by the creatures. Behind him the two women clutched each other and shuffled down the steps. Max was no fool and made for the illuminated elevator just as the vehicle started back up. As soon as the last player stepped down, the bus cranked into gear with a groan and pitched about towards the exit. Destiny, behind him screamed in terror, and Max turned. It’s headlights splashed across the monsters creeping closer and they recoiled briefly from the brilliant beams.

No pissing around tonight, he thought and ran for the elevator.

From the darkness, a shadowy hand grabbed Destiny’s slender shoulder and dragged her to the ground. Her friend, eyes wide with fright, quickly sprinted past Max toward the lights. A male player stood next to the control panel smashing floor buttons, but thankfully, someone else stood in the doorway and prevented the doors from closing. Max churned his legs as claws snatched at his clothing missing him by millimeters. Something covered in dark fur slid from the shadows and tried to tackle his legs. Heart pumping, he roared his defiance lowered his body like a running back and shouldered past the furry female creature and into elevator. It closed after him with a jaunty, out of character ding and rose into the building’s interior.

Well, tonight was going to prove interesting, Max thought trying to catch his breath. Now he understood why agility was so important. His single point in the stat had almost gotten him killed before the event even began. Of the twenty people on the bus only sixteen had made it to the elevator.

“Thanks for holding the door,” Max growled giving the evil eye to the bald man still smashing elevator buttons. He returned Max’s glare with an unapologetic intensity. Their stand off was broken by a dark haired boy standing by the doors.

“I didn’t do it for you,” the second man said stepping between them. “The more people for them to chase the better chance I have to get to the lower floors.”

“You’ve done this already?” Another player asked.

“Enough to know there isn’t a golden egg on the fifth floor, and further down you get, the more dangerous the encounters.”

“What happened to Destiny?” The blond girl asked from the rear of the elevator. She cowere

“Most likely she’s got a new weapon. If they killed her, she’ll respawn back at the character creation lobby and have to take the bus back over.”

“What should we expect?”

“The fifth floor is a maze of jumbled apartments. Bedrooms connect directly to one another, and dead ends are common. Aside from that, you’re on your own.” The man said with a short shrug.

“Why don’t we just follow you then,” a bald player suggested. The second man’s reply with a small vindictive smile. Further conversation was cut short as the elevator opened onto a dark hallway with a chirpy little ding. Now the real games would start.