Lights flooded the park from multiple angles. A low hum drifted from the lamps above the basketball courts. Chirps of crickets and thrums of cicadas resounded from every direction.

Peace and complete privacy.

A boom tore through the idyllic illusion and silenced the nearby insects into submission. Only the lamps continued to quietly hum in the blaring silence. That, and the sweet sound of struggling and crying.

The muffled sobs were absolutely euphoric to the man looming above the three children—or rather two now. One hand held a gun aloft for a moment, the muzzle still smoking under the light. The other shouldered a bat.

It felt like he was at the plate again, the crowd fading away until there was nothing, but him and the ball in the pitcher’s hand.

He carefully laid his bat to the ground and crouched to watch the light fade from the boy's eyes. A bullet in his head extinguished it faster than bleeding them out, but there was a distinct lack of fear in them. That irked him for some reason.

Maybe he should have used the bat.

“Now, where was I?” The man asked, still squatting. Despite being at eye level, no one could question his complete control.

“Right, I was talking about my [Quest] you guys are helping me with before I was so rudely interrupted.” The man glared at the still-bleeding corpse and stood abruptly. He aimed at the body and shot once—twice. The children screamed hysterically through their bondage. Tears and snot ran down their faces in droves.

The man could almost taste the fear. It was palpable. It was godly. He could almost hear them begging, praying for someone to rescue them.

Nothing answered, except a few brave crickets that chirped against the silence. He laughed with his entire gut, throwing his head back like a maniac.

It was just too funny.

Laughter rang out over muted whimpers, the echoes disappearing into the burning silence.

“So, my [Quest],” The man chuckled, still giddy. “It started off pretty simple. ‘Take One Life.’ There’s plenty of hobos around here. No one cares if one or two goes missing, but now it’s a little more complicated.” He punctuated by almost pinching his fingers.

“‘Kidnap, Torture, and Kill Three Young Lives.’” Every word the man recited was a hammer that slammed into the children’s hearts. They trembled and cried.

“Now, I don’t like to get down and dirty. Tearing off fingernails isn't my thing, but I’m pretty sure mental torture counts. I guess we’ll see.” The man said before he pulled the trigger twice. Both shots pierced through the children’s necks.

They both died staring at each other, slowly bleeding to death.

The lamps hummed an almost religious tune.

Killer has grown to Level 3

You have acquired Fear

You have gained the title Psychopath

Holographic screens sprung to life in front of the man, filling his vision in a split second. Warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time filled his body, newfound strength flowing with every heartbeat—

An ethereal knock through the hidden space grabbed the man’s attention; waves of soft, white light rippled through the air. He hid the gun in his waistband and kicked the bat into his hand.

“No one should be aware of this area.” The man whispered to himself. The formation needle was a [Rare] item and incredibly hard to get, it shouldn’t fail so easily—

—The bubble of isolated space popped with an explosion of blinding light.

The roar of the summer cicadas continuously reverberated throughout the city streets, washing over a figure hunched over a bus bench. The Floridian heat clung to him, his sweat making his short black hair slick as it dripped down his back and gangly arms. His eyes were glossed over as stared at the screen of his phone. The longer he searched, the more his shoulders sagged in utter defeat.

Gravity dragged Castor down just a little harder.

I’m sorry. We have to put him down; it’s the city policy. Again, the receptionist’s words rang in Castor’s ears as if she was right in front of him. He clutched his phone tighter and rested his weary head on his hands. He lacked the energy to look for a lawyer, advice, or anything that could help him.

After a long day of arguing with officers and receptionists, Castor wanted nothing more than to head back to his studio and lay his head down, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t have the heart to sleep in an empty home. His leg bounced uncontrollably at the thought. He had to do something. Anything.

His phone vibrated against his forehead, waking Castor from his brooding. A message from someone he hadn’t spoken to in years popped across the screen, bringing his thoughts from sluggish to a complete halt. His heart cinched at the name.

Vee: Hey, I saw your post. Did you find him yet?

Castor twiddled his thumbs for a moment. He didn’t imagine she would reach out to him—there was so much he wanted to say, yet no words came to him. He was too ashamed to even respond, especially after losing Blue. Instead, Castor found himself committing to an idea he previously thought was too drastic.

Castor stood, jaw clenched. He strode towards the nearest store, intent on grabbing a few things he needed.

A beep resounded throughout the mini-mart, drawing a disinterested glance from the clerk before he returned his attention to his phone and mumbled a half-hearted curse. Castor paid it no mind, wasting no time on grabbing a pair of wire cutters and heading to check out.

“Cash, or card, sir.” The clerk said, still not looking up from his phone. A little unprofessional, but Castor understood. He was a fellow grunt, slaving away.

“Cash,” Castor replied. He grabbed his wallet and pulled a measly five dollars. He tried to ignore the ache in the pit of his stomach from seeing his wallet so empty, but it gnawed at him. It’ll be okay. I can always get another job.

Castor didn't feel too assured.

The clerk sighed audibly, looking at Castor for the first time during the transaction. Then, as he grabbed the money from Castor, the teen paused at the sight of the tribal tattoo on Castor’s right forearm.

“Oh wow, you must be a hardcore fan of the game if you got that tatted on you.”

“… What?” Caught off-guard by the statement, Castor briefly looked at his tattoo in confusion.

“Yeah, Rifts and Boundaries, right?” He raised his phone to show an avatar with the same black hair and light skin tone wearing robes and holding a thick tome; it even had the same glasses as him. In the top-right corner laid the same set of swirls shaped as Castor’s tattoo. He always thought it looked like a candle.

“You should add me. I’m only level 18, but I can still raid dungeons and other stuff.”

“I actually don't know what you're talking about; had this for a while now.” A small smile tugged on Castor’s face as the memories resurfaced, yet the smile disappeared just as quickly. He had better things to do than to take a stroll down memory lane. “Can we hurry this up? I’ve got things to do.”

The clerk’s expression fell. “Here’s your change, Sir.”

A rogue police siren in the distance almost made Castor’s heart stop. He paused, looked around for any bystanders, waiting until the siren quieted in the distance before walking to the fence of the dog shelter. The police would not hesitate to put a black man like me in jail for breaking and entering.

Castor paused at the thought, but clipped the last wire in the fence anyway—making a hole wide enough for him to fit through—and walked through. Although it wasn’t the first time Castor has done anything like this, it was almost too easy at this point.

Castor slipped onto the shelter’s grounds, unnoticed. He advanced carefully, on the lookout for any security cameras, despite seeing none whatsoever.

Almost like no one cares about what happens to these animals. Castor thought, before heading towards the dog section.

Castor ignored the wails—and the ache in his chest—that perked up at his passage as he peered into every pen. Until finally, he stopped at a cage with an all-black Labrador curled up, shivering in a corner.

“Hey Blue,” The dog shot up at his name, suddenly wagging his tail in excited sweeps at the sight of Castor, “It’s ok. I came to get you outta here.”

Blue burst out of his cage before Castor could get all the knobs off the grate, pummeling him into the ground with a barrage of licks and affection. The movement roused the other dogs, transforming the calm, sad shelter into a zoo of barks, yips, and howls.

“I missed you too, boy.” Castor laughed, pushing the lab off him, “But we gotta get out of here.”

Castor grabbed Blue by his collar and quickly led him to the self-made exit before someone decided to investigate the trouble.

Miami was a major, populous city, and it showed. The sidewalks were filled to the brim with heavy foot traffic even at night, most hurrying to their destinations, while others lumbered about. A few people sat on the corners of every busy street; each one had cardboard signs displayed with some variation of ‘Hard Times’ high enough that everyone could see, despite most pointedly ignoring them. Castor hesitated before moving forward. He was boxed in just like the rest of them.

The one good thing going for Castor was that he had his dog back.

There was little room for Castor and the big dog at his side—especially with how rowdy and excitable Blue was being, which earned him more than a few looks of annoyance, but there wasn’t much he could do to calm him down.

“I’m happy to have you back too,” Castor whispered to Blue, giving him a well-deserved scratch on the back.

The pair made good time back to the same store Castor went to earlier to buy the wire cutters, despite the crowds almost blocking his way. He walked inside, but was stopped immediately by the young clerk.

“Sir, you can’t bring a dog in here.” The clerk said exasperatedly.

“My bad,” Castor chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I just need a leash. Do you have one for like two-”

“Get away from me!” A yell from outside grabbed everyone in the store’s attention. A tall man in a cloak stood over another man on the ground, brandishing a bat overhead threateningly. Several people rushed over to stop the large man from painting the concrete with blood and brains, but they all struggled to pin him down. Not once did the large man pause whatever mission he was on with the one on the ground.

“Help me! This guy is crazy!”

He must’ve been to wear a cloak in 90-degree weather. Castor turned away as his phone vibrated.

Rifts & Boundaries

You have been invited! Would you like to play?

“What the hell?” An invitation was the last thing he expected. Castor looked over and saw the teenager checking his phone too. “Did you send me this invite?”

The clerk looked up at Castor, confusion apparent in his face, “What? No, man, I don’t even have your number.” He glanced at his phone again. “Although it is weird that I got an invitation too, even though I already got the game.” He mumbled under his breath.

The yells and grunts outside became progressively louder, with the smaller man screaming for anybody to help him. Castor could see several people on calls, presumably with the police, and a few others recording the situation. More and more people continued to crowd around the fight, if you can even call it that. Cars honked at the disturbance of traffic.

Blue cried and shook to get out of Castor’s grip, pulling his attention away from the supposed fight. “What’s wrong, boy? Everything’s ok.”

He knelt to his eye level, but he continued to struggle, staring outside. Castor followed his line of sight and saw massive storm clouds circling overhead, lightning flashing behind the dark clouds. Not a single rumble of thunder reached them.

“It’s ok, Blue. The noise isn’t gonna hurt you.” Castor tried to calm him down. The storm must’ve been far away if he couldn’t hear the thunder. Still, Blue refused to relax, panicking even more despite Castor’s attempts.

All the while, Castor’s phone vibrated nonstop.

I get it, jeez. I know the weather’s terrible; you don’t need to spam emergency weather alerts. Castor silenced and quickly pocketed the device without looking at it. “You know what, never mind on the leash. I think I’m just gonna head home.”

“You might want to wait.” The cashier said, while staring outside. “It looks like the weather is going to get way worse.”

“Even more of a reason.”

Castor turned around, dragging the reluctant Blue towards the door. Yet, before they could leave, a flash of light blinded him, followed by a peal of thunder that shook the building and knocked Castor off his feet.

Node Overload… Commencing Emergency Trial.

Provisional Access Granted

Translucent words appeared and disappeared in a heartbeat; so fast Castor could’ve sworn he imagined them—since the lightning previously impaired his sight—but another set of words quickly replaced the previous message. This time it lingered menacingly in his eye before quietly fading away.

Welcome to The Gallows