Framework of the Frontier, Sain Artwell [read me a book .TXT] 📗

Master — a binder of demons and otherworldly beings — as well as gifted with a supernatural ability to sense motives of those she speaks with. She’s from—”

Thomas’ chortle interrupted him. “Whoa, dude what the heck, you’re playing a woman? Hah! Gayyy.”

“Jesus Christ, Thomas, do you want to play with us or be a fucking turd for the rest of the night?” William stood. He drilled angry daggers through the little shitstain.

The room paused in a tense silence filled by traffic and an electric background static. Thomas’ lips twitched upward with irritation, but he held it in, averting his eyes as he sank in his chair. Too quiet to hear, he muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” William demanded.

Thomas raised his voice to a near yell. “Let’s continue.”

Daniel groaned. “Can you guys behave? William, you need to chill down too. If I wanted to waste my Friday listening to little bitches arguing I’d be with the missus. I’m not here to get familiar with your insecurities.”

“Oooh boy.” Abraham finished his beer. “It’s going to be a short game. Well, in case we ever do get to the part where combat starts — my character is… I guess you can call him Abbrams. He’s pretty much like me, but with a wizard hat. His build is, like I explained before, a modified Script Arcanist. I can give you a link to the full character sheet.”

“Thomas?” Mitchelle asked, her chins quivering as she struggled to keep going. “Could you continue, please?”

“Yea whatever… I’m a Weapon Master class so I can bond with weapons. I have Second Chance, so if I die I get to redo the last minute. I guess I look like myself if I was ripped and shit.”

Daniel jumped up and dropped his tablet. “Ow! What the hell?”

““““What?””””

He was sucking on his thumb, eyeing the device like it was the devil. “Static zap.”

“What model is that? It could be a sign of the battery being faulty.” Abraham craned his neck to inspect the dark screen.

When William leaned closer, his ears picked up that static again. It was a quiet ringing of white noise, not just the typical background noise. He’d never heard batteries make that kind of sound. Luckily, the device resurrected with cheers when Daniel swiped the fingerprint scanner, though the noise continued to grow in intensity.

“You might want to get that checked,” William said, adjusting his voice. “Alright.” He felt a heat rise to his ears as he imagined his character: A slightly taller, more muscled, and handsomer version of himself, with white shoulder length hair and blue eyes. God he felt embarrassed imagining a version of himself that he could never be. “I’m a Radiant Paladin. I look sort of like that cool guy sword guy from the hack-and-slash video game with demons. As for the trait, let’s go with ‘A thimble of God’s Blood’.” It seemed like a decent trait to put his physical abilities on par with a warrior’s as well as giving him extra spell slots to use his abilities with.

“Shit man, what a bummer.” Thomas tilted his head as he sipped beer. “I was expecting a cooler description from an art school dropout, like shiny stuff and armor.”

“Wow.” Daniel leaned back, raising his hands.

Mitchelle tried to interject with her narration, “‘Welcome’, the woman said, before gesturing her hands in a quick pattern and reciting a brief spell…” A spell the words of which William missed completely.

He’d had enough of this loser clown. How dared he — a man who had done nothing but waste his life — point a finger at the sorest spot he knew. Was he so pathetic the only time he feels alive is reminding others their dreams failed too?

Hot rage surged throughout his chest. Tightening his fists, William suppressed a sudden urge to punch Thomas’ teeth in. He drew a deep breath and another and another and a fourth and a fifth. Keep control of your emotions. Keep control. Lose it and you lose the situation.

“Easy, Will, sit down. Thomas, that was uncall-” Abraham frowned, his last word drowning under the static.

“Thomas. One more slip and I’ll throw you out myself,” William said. But he could not hear his own words.

Mitchelle’s lips moved, but sounds were obscured by the white noise. William stood slowly, his frustration with an idiotic friend subsiding in favor of irritated confusion as he looked at Daniel’s device. Is it going to blow up?

It was turned off again. Daniel removed the battery, but still the sound continued. They stood, exchanging puzzled looks, trying to shout over the noise.

Abraham wrote a note with one word, ‘GAS?’ and gestured urgently towards the door.

A soft pop broke the static.

Right in the center of the five of them appeared a symmetric mesh of light. It formed a branching structure for an instant. It coalesced into an inky polygon continuously folding in on itself. Grooves of a wormy texture coating it shone in iridescent sheen as they moved.

William stood still in awe. Feeling a strange tingling sensation through every nerve and muscle, popping his ears as the noise grew another notch.

A beam of blackness shot out at Mitchelle — leaving an outline of her pained scream to evaporate in mist. Another shot out Daniel, third Abraham, and, a fourth killed Thomas, all within a span of seconds. William ducked beneath the table, narrowly avoiding death.

Last of the misty forms disappeared.

Old gang. Dead.

I’ll be next.

Dread gripped his guts deep. Flying on adrenaline, William sprinted through the kitchen, into the hallway, and for the door. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that whatever the fuck that thing was, it was following him, slowly floating after him like on a fixed leash. Another zap missed William as he leapt ten stairs at once. He managed to get into the street and