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Chapter 11

  Autumn turned to winter, then to spring and then to summer.

  It has been a quiet year so far. The only things that had died in my Dungeon were several birds that flew into the spatial bubble. Things were in their normal routine both within and without the Dungeon.

  It was late summer when I got my first visitors of the year. Two riders came up the pathway from the road. My hunters had recently cleared it, as the forest around us was trying to reclaim it. The two miles of track take longer without pack animals' help.

  I shifted to my gates and watched them. They were the standard fare of travellers but were more settler than frontiersmen with their look. More thick wool clothing under animal hides and leather. Both were armed.

  They dismounted and tied up their horses just away from the gates.

  "Should I get a tying post made next to the gates?"

  Something for the future, but for now, focus.

  "I believe this is the place, Robert." The first said. A tall man for the time, around 5'9. He built and was in his early thirties. Clean-shaven with dirt blonde air under a bowler hat of all things with bright, clear blue eyes. He looked through the gates into my domain.

  "Reckon it is, Charles." The other was a far rougher type with a scrappy beard and brown hair. His clothes were rougher and dirtier, even from the ride to get here. He was chewing something. From the stains, I think it's chewing tobacco.

  "Shall we get to it?" Charles asked. He seemed eager and "peppy" was the best way to describe him. He sounded like he was from the East Coast and educated. His personality would quickly wear on most people.

  "First, get ready, then go in." Robert spat on the ground and confirmed that he was chewing tobacco. He went over to a tree, undid his trousers and began urinating. Charles ignored him and pulled his rifle from the saddle holster. Once finished, Robert armed himself.

  Both men had a rifle, sidearm and knife.

  "I say, Robert, this is all awfully exciting. The chance to find Montagues lost gold. What a story it will make." Charles rabbited on as they approached the gates. He held his rifle badly which looked new and expensive. Was he just a dandy pretending to be going on an adventure? His clothes were of far better quality than his companion's. Everything about him spoke of money.

  "Reckon it would, but heard other stories about this place," Robert said, looking through the gates for danger. His body language was tense.

  "Oh, do tell!" Charles said as they both entered the courtyard.

  "Not a place for the god-fearing folk it is." Robert looked at the plinth and then around the area that the Dungeon made up. "Best bet is the church. Odd, this place looks bigger than I heard."

  The church was visible from the gates as no building blocked the view.

  They left the courtyard and I got two messages.

  [Alert! Intruder is not recognised as Challenger.]

  [Potential Hunter entering the Dungeon!]

  "Ok, which is which?"

  I reached out to my hunters, who were stirring in their lairs.

  "Stay out of the church. I want to see how this plays out."

  The two men made their way through the graves and tombs. Charles continued talking about different things that bordered on prattling. Robert was quiet and was studying the area for dangers.

  "Aunt Margaret was not keen on this little excursion, but I was travelling through this state when I heard the story of the Montague's lost gold. Well, I thought…." And so, on he went. And on.

  It was nearly a mile now from the gates to the church. When I first created the Dungeon, I thought about how cool it would be, but now I can see issues that can arise from it. The walk takes so long to get to the church!

  My hunters were moving to stalk them but remained hidden.

  When they reached the church, the day was approaching its end. The sun would set in less than two hours.

  "We search quickly; we don't want to be here after dark." Roberts's words cut through Charles's prattle.

  "Yes, that might be bad; let's look inside then." Charles's attitude became more focused. The shift was subtle, and I almost missed it.

  Throughout the journey, I watched, trying to figure out who the potential hunter was. I was leaning toward Robert, but there was something about Charles. He seemed…. too peppy.

  The two men entered the church. Sunlight was flooding through the west-facing stained-glass windows, covering most of the room in different shades of colours. A rainbow effect filled the air where the light came through. They checked the room before walking to the altar.

  Both stood before it and took it in.

  "My, what an odd statue for a church. Are those bullet holes?" Charles spoke first. He went closer, squinting at the damage to the altar and statue.

  "Aye, this is no place of God." Robert was looking around again. He went over to the door to the left of the altar. Charles watched his back for a few seconds. While Robert was distracted, Charles stood forward and placed his hand on the surface.

  [Potential Hunter: Charles McGregor. Has asked to become a Hunter in your Dungeon and offers one sacrifice to you.]

  [Do you accept: Yes or No.]

  "Yes."

  The contract was formed within seconds and he placed his rifle on the altar. Drawing his knife, he walked up behind Robert and got close, ready to strike. Robert turned to say something but found a blade in his guts. Charles did not hesitate, pushing the older man against the wall, stabbing again and again. Speed and surprise swept through Roberts's attempt to defend himself. He tried to say something or cry out, but only blood came from his mouth.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  Stepping back, the now-dead Robert slides to the floor. An evil smile of joy changes the features of my newest hunter from a dandy to an experienced killer. Blood covered the front of both men and was spreading out across the floor—another stain to clear up later.

  "Greetings, Charles McGregor."

  The smile vanishes and he looks around.

  "I believe you are the individual identified in my contract as the Keeper." His voice had changed to a slightly deeper and less refined accent. It was still from the East Coast.

  "Correct. I oversee this Dungeon, and I welcome you to it. There are some ground rules you should be aware of…."

  I go on to explain my rules and how things are done. He nods now and again, seeming to understand what is required of him. I bring the others in. They all eye each other up, recognising the others as fellow predators.

  "The hunter to the left is Rigger, and the right is Rodiguez. This is McGregor, our fourth hunter." I introduced them. There are a few tense nods of…. Acceptance?

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  "Fourth?" McGregor asked, confused, looking at the two Hunters present.

  "Yes, the fourth is a bit.. er…. Different."

  The older hunters snorted. McGregor was smart, understood something was off and was being evasive.

  "In what way?" He asked, his eyes narrowing, wondering if he was being mocked. Was he a bit sensitive?

  "Well… she is a hateful spirit and haunts the north end of the Dungeon at night. Best avoid her hunting grounds as she will attack you on sight."

  I explained to him. His expression changed to one of surprise at my words.

  "Wait, ghosts are real!" He exclaimed.

  "Around here, they can be. So where am I going to put you?"

  I ignored some of the more extreme questions, well, all the questions that came after this revelation. I assigned him to the church's east so that anyone cutting through would find him first before reaching the church. He helped with the horses and buried the body of his sacrifice. What little loot was split and the hunters were leaving and returning to their lairs.

  "McGregor, wait one moment."

  When everything was finished, we were well into the night. It was dark, but McGregor did not seem bothered by it.

  "Can you tell me what is being said about Montague and the money?"

  "What its actually here?" He exclaimed. "I thought it was just a story. I used it to get Robert to bring me here."

  "No, it's here."

  "Well, colour me a fool!" He laughed at the fact what he thought was a story was true. "Well, old Alexander Montague robbed a large train full of money from the Federal Government, which he liberated last year. The stories go that he hides it in a graveyard, killing the rest of his gang to protect its location. The story is that it was a few thousand gold coins."

  "No, it was only a hundred."

  He laughed more at this. The fact the story was mostly true entertained him greatly.

  "Thank you, go settle in."

  Still chuckling, he walked out of the church to his lair and settled into his new home. I had things to think about. The beacon seems not to be the only thing drawing people to my Dungeon.

  I hoped the story would turn into an urban myth that would be forgotten over time. I could use the extra kills, but treasure hunters would bring more interest that could expose me. I had to devise a plan to get people to forget about the money. Precisely what and how I had no idea. I turned my attention back to my new Hunter.

  "Let's see what you can do."

  "Well, that explains a few things."

  I read over his skills and Dark Trait. He specialised in fooling his victims and ambushing them up close and personal. The Sadistic Predator trait did not need explaining. He had fewer skills, but they were at a higher level than my other Hunters when they first arrived in some areas. He was also a bit younger, in his late twenties, while Rigger was in his early forties and Rodriguez was in his late thirties.

  The summer days went on, and McGregor settled into the routine that happened when things were quiet.

  As the long summer days passed, I thought about his acting skills. What could I use it for?

  "Maybe a trip into town for some intelligence gathering?"

  As a new hunter without a level under his belt, he could stay away from the Dungeon the longest. He might be able to reach Crossway and get back. The lack of a horse was an issue that would prevent this. He could ambush a traveller, but that could lead to unforeseen consequences.

  "Hhmmmm. I will think some more on this."

  Summer passed, and autumn was here again. The forest trees were turning in colour, and the weather was wetter. Wildlife was getting ready for winter or migrating south. I watched flocks of birds flying south, knowing they would be back in a few months. The cycle of life went on.

  I had spoken to McGregor, but he had gradually become withdrawn, as the other hunters had in time. Why? I had no idea, but I resolved to try to have a more extended conversation with my next hunter when they joined.

  What little I did learn had fascinated me.

  The town of Crossway was the main town for crossing the Canadian border from the Idaho Territories. My memory was not the best, but my Dungeon is in the south of the territories. So, where the hell is the border?

  The War between States ended in 1866, not 1865, as in mine. McGregor killed his first person during the celebrations, marking the day it ended.

  These facts made me think about the world around me and the differences from my own. I could do nothing about it right now, but I am looking for any sources of information to find out what is happening or had.

  1875 continued as autumn went on and winter was closing in. In the distance, the snow line on the mountains was moving down towards the Dungeon. The numbers along the road were slowing as the locals were getting ready to hunker down to endure the winter.

  I was surprised to see four riders arrive at my gates. I looked them over, noting their clothes and weapons. They were treasure hunters, I thought. It was getting later in the day and darkness was soon to come. The winter days were far shorter.

  I listened to their conversation, and my first impression was correct: they were looking for the money. I watched them cross the threshold and the courtyard.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  Each carried an assortment of weapons and even a few mining tools. They were crossing directly through the gravestones and mausoleums. I watched as they walked, knowing the hunters were aware of their entry and were moving. McGregor was the closet and was already watching them.

  The sun was low and the shadows in the Dungeon were greater, with many patches of darkness. He was using them to his advantage and had not been spotted yet. The men were discussing where the money could be located, and the church was their first stop in the search.

  One decided to stop to urinate, with the others telling him to catch up. He made his way over to a tree and undid his trousers. The others continued, not looking back but to where they were going. McGregor moved in. He got right up behind the distracted intruder. He was shaking off and refastening his trousers when McGregor grabbed him.

  One hand seized his prey's jaw, pushing it up and forcing his head back, exposing his neck. Then the blade in the other cut across it, opening it, causing blood to flow out. The man fought as best he could while choking to death on his blood. McGregor held him to minimise the noise of his death. He had his evil smile plastered across his face as he held the dying man.

  He was successful, as the others did not look back. He watched them as they walked away as he held the dying man.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  "Well, that's one."

  The three walked on, nearing the empty space around the church. My other two hunters were waiting, hiding as best they could; McGregor was moving up behind them.

  Surprised, one of the men called out as he spotted Rigger and tried to aim his weapon at him. Rodriguez took advantage and attacked. He emerged from hiding and crossed the short distance to the nearest intruder. His target heard something moving behind him and began turning to see Rodriguez, but he was not fast enough. A tomahawk buried itself in his face as Rodreguez swung in as he ran. The scream of pain emitted was loud.

  This threw off the man's aim as he tried to shoot Rigger. The shot went wide as he lept in surprise, allowing Rigger to attack. It was not far, and he crossed the distance fast, seeing he was going for his pistol. McGregor had arrived, tackling the third.

  The fight quickly degenerated into three brutal murders.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  [A Hunter has made a Kill]

  All three hunters were covered in the blood of their victims and stood over the cooling corpses. Steam rose from the blood that was covering the grass and earth. A few gravestones also had blood spatter across them.

  "They brought four horses and a pack mule with them all tied up at the gates. It's best to get the bodies in the ground. It might start snowing tonight."

  The hunters looked around at the darkening skies and agreed with my assessment, getting to work. I triggered my perk [Hide the Crime!] to remove most of the blood from the area. After a few hours of work, the four bodies were in the ground. By then, the sun was long gone, and the first flakes of winter snow were blowing in the wind.

  They began moving faster with this, collecting the saddles and using the pack mule to bring it all to the church. Rigger took the mule back to the gates, sending it on its way with a slap on its hindquarters. The horses were long gone by then.

  He turned and almost ran back to the church as the snow started to fall, and the night was deathly silent. He came through the doors as the others finished separating everything that was taken from the dead, including their saddle bags and the pack mule.

  "Anyone want the travel rations?"

  I got the answer from all of them I expected—that of a hard no.

  "Why am I not surprised? Next, we have…."

  The "luxury" items were divided among them. I had to arbitrate a few items, but they all left with something. The saddles and other items would be moved to the storage room as soon as the weather settled. After they left the church, I moved the valuables and money below. The guns and knives were next. I unloaded them and placed them with the rest.

  "I still have no idea what to do with these stairs."

  I said to myself as I looked down at them from my avatar's eyes. I had been thinking about it but still had no idea what to do. The falling snow turned into a blizzard as the wind increased speed.

  "I wonder how long this one will last."

  The wind soon howled around the Dungeon, causing the windows to rattle. I rarely left the Dungeon during this type of weather for two reasons. The most obvious was that I could not see anything, and the second was that I still faintly remembered staying out of them when I was alive as a human.

  "Looks like we will not see anyone else this year…. But I could be wrong."

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