章節 3: A Death Nightmare
[Welcome to the Nightscape!]
[The Dreamwalker has entered a Death Nightmare.]
[New Main Objective: Find the Last Memory and end the chaos!]
Xander glanced at his pocket watch once more and saw that its dial had turned black, confirming his initial claim. He was certain now that the lady had been murdered since he found himself inside a Death Nightmare.
Most Dreamwalkers would never dare to enter a Death Nightmare, for traversing the Nightscape was no easy task even for the most experienced ones. Xander however, enjoyed the thrill of challenging death at every step. It filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction.
Even more than the payment, he relished the opportunity to test his skill against the twisted denizens of the Nightscape. It was one of the only things that made him feel alive and gave a purpose to his otherwise meaningless existence.
"I am waiting in the shadows...Come find me where darkness bleeds into the light," the raspy female voice cried once again.
Xander lifted his right hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a card appeared between his middle and index finger. It had the image of a glowing white eye and a string of archaic letters under it.
"Play card: Eye of Truth."
At once, the card in Xander's hand flashed red and turned to dust. A bright red aura spread out from him, covering the whole graveyard. Moments later, he could make out faint red orbs glowing behind several of the headstones.
"Come out and play, fellas. I can see you clear as day," Xander jeered, cracking his fingers.
His taunts didn't go unheard. Snarling noises filled the graveyard as the creatures hiding behind the headstones stood up on their slender, bony legs.
"Why is it always you guys every single time?" Xander huffed. "It gets really boring after a while."
As the clouds cleared away, moonlight flooded the whole graveyard, revealing the monsters in all their grotesque glory.
They looked like feral goblins twisted by some dark curse. Standing six feet tall with scaly green skin, glowing red eyes, and razor-sharp fingernails, they were the lowest of all pack hunters in the Nightscape.
The Dreamwalkers called them Grievers. Creatures born of grief, and cursed to dwell in graveyards and cemeteries for all eternity. Though they didn't pose much of a threat alone, in a pack, however, things were a lot different.
There were six of them in the graveyard, each an identical copy of the other. Not only did they share the same physical features, but they also acted on common instinct.
The Grievers were highly territorial creatures, driven by malice against the living. And Xander was standing right inside their backyard.
Seeing the strange human in their territory, the Grievers went mad with bloodlust. Opening their jaws wide, they let out a collective shriek, revealing hundreds of dagger-like teeth stacked inside their salivating mouths.
Xander quickly pulled out an inscribed clay tablet from his jacket and crushed it within his palm. Immediately, a double-action revolver covered in hundreds of squirming black strands appeared in his right hand.
The weapon had a long gray barrel and a heavy silver trigger with runic engravings. It was one of the first weapons Xander had acquired from a nightmare and was among his most prized possessions. It was deadly at close range, and rumor had it that one could fire it with his eyes closed, and it would still find its target.
"Alright boys, let's get this party started." Xander grinned pulling the hammer back with his right thumb.
The Grievers let out another bloodcurdling cry and rushed at him from all sides. Xander looked to his right and fired a single shot. The bullet drilled a hole in the Griever's head, turning it to ash.
"One down, more to go. Don't worry, there's enough for all of you." Xander took quick shots to his left, without even looking, and immediately two more dropped dead.
A Griever managed to sneak up behind Xander while he was busy displaying his antics. It was too late by the time he heard the shriek behind his shoulder. The monster's claw slashed his jacket, leaving a deep gash on his back.
"Son of a bitch!" Xander cursed in pain.
It was about to jump on his shoulder when he spun around and shot it in the chest.
Blood dripped from Xander's back, staining his shredded white shirt and soaking his jacket red. He fought the pain with clenched teeth and turned around to face the last two Grievers in the pack.
The first Griever rushed at him on all fours, giving him barely a second to react. Luckily, he had quick reflexes and a perfect aim. The monster went down with a bullet to its face before it could get any closer.
Xander was about to flick his gun to the side and shoot the last Griever when it pounced on him. Its gnarly white teeth dug into his left arm, biting right into his bone.
"God damn it!" Xander kicked it in its belly to force it to open its jaw.
As the monster yelped in pain, Xander pulled the trigger, shooting it in its lumpy throat. It let out a muffled cry and turned to ash.
[Grievers defeated!]
[500 exp gained.]
[Accumulated exp: 1000/2000.]
[Current Level: 4.]
[10 Nightmare Shards obtained!]
Xander breathed a sigh of relief and pulled himself back to his feet. Strapping the revolver to his waist, he took off his jacket and held it up. Through the jagged slits on the back, he could see the moon peeping from the other side.
"Not a nice start. Guess I shouldn't be taking you all so lightly," he mumbled.
Though Xander had taken out the Grievers, a graveyard was never a safe place inside a nightmare. He quickly put his jacket back on and pulled out a silver necklace from under his shirt. Dangling from it was a green, leaf-shaped talisman.
As soon as Xander touched the talisman, his fingers started tingling, and a gentle warmth spread through his body. Seconds later, the bleeding stopped, and all his wounds closed automatically, leaving just a few light scars on his skin.
This talisman was a rare relic called the Amulet of Life. Xander had obtained it from an obscure Dreamscape many months ago. Its potent magic could heal any wound in seconds and even mend broken bones in a heartbeat. The only catch was that it needed time to replenish its magic energy after every use.
Having healed his wounds, Xander was about to follow the grassy brown path that led out of the graveyard when he heard a muffled cry in the distance.
Here in the Nightscape, it wasn't uncommon for Dreamwalkers to run into malevolent Ethereals, but what bothered Xander was that the cry sounded almost human.
Without a second thought, he rushed out of the graveyard. His revolver automatically restored all the bullets he had fired.
A narrow snaking path flanked by leafless brown trees lay before him. Xander looked at his Chronica again. The watch's dial had turned pitch black now, obscuring the numbers on its periphery.
A cold chill ran down Xander's spine as he gazed at his pocket watch. The last time his Chronica had turned jet black was one year ago when he and his friend, Marvin had entered a Death Nightmare by mistake.
What they had seen that day had changed their lives forever. They were lucky to have made it out alive, but that was the last time he'd seen Marvin. The guy had disappeared without a trace, and he'd never been able to contact him again.
Xander realized that this wasn't an ordinary Death Nightmare. The victim hadn't been murdered by a common criminal.
Shoving the Chronica back inside his jacket, Xander took a good look around him. It was awfully quiet outside the graveyard with not a single Ethereal in sight. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't figure out what.
As Xander trudged down the dusty path, a murder of crows rushed toward him. He instinctively ducked, letting the cawing black birds fly over him and disappear into the darkness.
The barren landscape was dotted with thorny bushes and tufts of withered grass. The ground was bone dry and covered in cracks.
Suddenly, Xander's eyes fell on a blood-red vine squirming around a dried oak tree, its spindly leaves perforating the brown tree trunk.
"What the hell is a Blood Vine doing here?" Xander stopped in his tracks to take a closer look. He soon discovered more vines in the distance.
Out of nowhere, a hot gust of air slapped him in the face, making his throat run dry. The eerie silence was abruptly shattered by an unearthly neighing that made his blood run cold.
Xander turned around, following the direction of the noise, and heard the clopping of hooves in the distance. The sound grew louder and louder as a shadowy figure approached from afar.
Out of the foggy darkness emerged a blood-red horse with pitch-black eyes. As it snorted furiously, its sinewy shoulders pulsated with rage, and clouds of black smoke billowed out of its nostrils.
Seated atop the wild stallion was a black knight dressed in full plate armor, wearing a plumed iron helmet. In his right hand, he held a flaming greatsword, while his left hand tugged at the reins of the terrifying beast.
"I knew you would be coming, Dreamwalker. But this will be your last nightmare!" the knight exclaimed in a raspy voice.
Raising his flaming sword, the knight brought his stallion to a halt, inches away from Xander. "The hour of doom is at hand. Shamura shall be set free again!"
That name made Xander's eyes widen. His legs froze in terror, and his heart started thumping inside his chest like a caged animal.
As the knight cackled in his hoarse voice, flames erupted from his mouth, spewing out of the breathing holes in his great helm.
"Prepare to meet your maker!" he shouted, setting his burning gaze on the Dreamwalker.
[Rare Ethereal encountered!]
[Ethereal: Black Knight.]
[Additional Objective: Defeat the Black Knight to cleanse the Nightscape!]
創作者的想法 
Ashdenroth
Ashdenroth Dreamwalker Lore:
The Chronica: A special pocket watch carried by the Dreamwalkers. These watches can be used to find out whether a person is having a dream or a nightmare. The hands of the watch stop and then turn clockwise if it’s a dream. In case of a nightmare, however, they stop momentarily before moving anti-clockwise.
In the veiled world, the Chronica often acts as a compass, pointing the Dreamwalker in the direction of his objective or goal.
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