Prelude

  The room was dark, dusty and heavy with the stench of mildew. Untouched for decades. Three mismatched chairs surrounded the uneven table in the middle of the room. Its wobble balanced by an old 2nd Edition Player’s Handbook, its spine half rotted away.

  On the table, a faded, cracked DM screen faced the three empty seats. In front of the seats, an empty character sheet waited.

  From somewhere unseen, two 20 sided dice dropped onto the table. The die bounced, spun, collided, and clattered across the table and came to rest in the center.

  Natural twenty.

  Natural one.

  Then, laughter. Cold. Hollow. Amused.

  “Three players.”

  “Three broken paths”

  “One common thread”

  And the game hadn’t even started yet.

  Prologue

  Jimmy woke with a start as his alarm clock went off blaring Shinedown’s Save Me. He was immediately wide awake despite having been up most of the night. He had been too excited to get much sleep. Today was the day. He was going to get to meet Gary Fucking Gygax.

  He turned the alarm clock radio down some so as not to bother his parents, but let the music play as he got dressed. The song ended and he heard the radio DJ talk about how it was going to be a beautiful, but hot Saturday afternoon. “We’ve got some audioslave and Nine Inch Nails coming up, but it’s top of the hour which means we’re giving away tickets to Korn, Linkin Park and Snoop Dogg at X-Fest 2004 to caller number 10 right now only on Indy’s new rock alternative X103.”

  Jimmy looked around his room debating what to bring with him today to try to get autographed. He had shelves full of miniature monsters. He knew none of his smaller monsters would work, but considered taking one of his dragons. “Or maybe I should I go with one of my books”, he thought. He had his Dungeon Master’s Guide, his Player’s Handbook, his Monster Manual. Any of these would be great for an autograph.

  He finally decided to take the World of Greyhawk poster he had on his wall. He rolled up the poster wrapped a rubber band around it, grabbed his GenCon ticket, and left his room. He knew Matt should be picking Kelly and Dustin up, and would be heading his way anytime now.

  After 20 minutes of arguing with his parents about when he needed to be home, Jimmy heard Matt’s horn going off letting him know it was time to go. “Ugh whatever, I’ll be home later. I’ll call you from Matt’s phone later to let you know what time it will be.”, he yelled at his mom as he grabbed a pack of Pop Tarts from the pantry and ran out the door.

  When Jimmy got outside, he laughed as he realized it wasn’t even Matt honking. Kelly was reaching across him just repeatedly blasting the horn. When she saw him she stopped and yelled out the window, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping”. She had been using this line every chance she got for months. She hopped out of the front seat and into the back. Being Matt’s best friend since first grade, he had permanent shotgun, except of course for the few months last year when Matt and Kelly had tried dating. He got in, “how many times have you seen that god awful Mean Girls movie?”, he asked her. “First of all, it’s great,” she said. “And not like you would know since you wouldn’t come see it with me, but to answer your question, four.”

  “Must be nice to even be able to go to the movies 4 times in the last few months,” Dustin said. “Yea, no shit,” Matt said. “With the cost of my ticket for today, gas, and insurance, I’ve done nothing but work, school, and our campaign for months. “Yea, you wouldn’t take me to the movies every weekend. That’s why we broke up” joked Kelly.

  As soon as they were out of the neighborhood, Matt punched the gas. “Don’t start that shit today”, Kelly said. “Lighten the fuck up” he replied back. “I’ve been driving for a year and a half. Never had an accident, and never gotten a ticket. Not to say there haven’t been a couple dozen close calls.” Jimmy laughed “yea, but how many times have you been pulled over? Must be nice having your dad on IMPD. No cop is writing you a ticket when they know who he is”.

  “True enough. That helps” laughed Matt. “So, anyway Jimmy, any chance you tell me what you’ve got planned for us for next session? I’ve been dying to play again after that last battle.” Jimmy laughed, “Not a fucking chance. If you roll as many 1’s as you did last week though you might all be dying when we play again. Lucky for you, Kelly had those back to back Nat 20’s that saved your ass.”

  “Hey Jimmy, I've heard Gygax has ran one shot groups at some of these things. You think he'll do that this year?” Dustin asked.

  “I really doubt it. I read something that he's been having some health stuff going on. It's the biggest reason ive been so adamant about making it this year. Who knows how many more of these he has in him. The guy's my fucking hero man. How many opportunities do you think you'll ever get to meet your hero?” Jimmy answered.

  The next several things all happened in a matter of seconds. Matt looked up in his rearview mirror, “Oh fuck, you guys just had to say something didn’t you?”

  Jimmy went to turn in his seat to see what Matt was talking about, but when he did he bumped Matt’s right arm that was on the wheel.

  “OH SHIT!” Matt yelled

  It lasted for no more than three or four seconds, but felt like forever as everything slowed to super slow motion. Jimmy saw the flashing lights of a cop behind them, and the the car jerked to the left. His eyes went wide as he saw the car in the lane they were suddenly swerving into clip their bumper. They started to spin.

  All four of the teenagers started screaming in panic. Jimmy saw the car, and he caught Dustin's eyes wide in absolute terror. Then he saw the flashing lights again. He tried to catch Kelly's eyes, but they were closed tight, her mouth wide in a scream that he strangely wasn't even hearing. He saw Matt frantically trying to turn the wheel to correct the spin. Finally, he saw the guardrail for just a split second before his world went black.

  When Matt woke up, he was on a stretcher, and he saw several more sets of flashing lights. “What was going on?” His whole body was in agony. It felt like his head was going to splinter into a thousand pieces, but he had to know. He had to see.

  He looked over and saw both Dustin and Kelly on stretchers being loaded into ambulances as well. It was hard to tell under the blanket, but Kelly's leg looked to be laying at a strange angle. Then he saw what looked like a big red piece of paper laying in the middle of the road. It took him a minute to piece together what he was looking at. It was Jimmy’s World of Greyhawk poster stained with more blood than he had ever seen.

  He wanted to ask the people standing around him where his best friend was, but he was scared. He worried that if they told him, the pounding in his head might actually cause it to explode. He heard someone tell him he was going to be ok, and then Matt passed out again.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  When he woke up this time, he was laying in a hospital bed. He looked over, and his dad was sitting in the chair next to the bed. “What happened?” he asked. His dad looked up, tears in his eyes, realizing Matt was awake. “You guys were in an accident” his dad told him.

  “Yeah… I kind of figured that part out,” Matt muttered, but the words tasted hollow. His throat tightened as the fear twisted into something worse: guilt. “Is everyone else ok?”

  His dad looked down at the floor. Unable to look his son in the eyes, and told him “Dustin broke his arm, and Kelly broke her leg, but son…” His dad froze not able to look at his son. Matt closed his eyes, his entire body tensed, and he grabbed the sheet of the hospital bed tightly, his finger nails digging into his palms afraid to hear what was coming next.

  “Jimmy didn’t make it bud. They said that when the car spun, he was thrown into the roof and it broke his neck. He was gone before the cop could even get out of his car and get to you.”

  His best friend. He had killed his best friend. He was supposed to take him to meet his hero. Instead, Jimmy was dead.

  “How many opportunities do you think you’ll ever get to meet your hero,” Jimmy had asked. Thanks to Matt, the answer would always be zero.

  In that moment, he knew he’d never look in a mirror again without feeling that weight. That guilt. That loss.

  And with that, Matt slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 1

  Matt woke up to Linkin Park’s “Numb” screaming from his phone. He let it play for a moment—he always did—before shutting it off.

  It was August 21st. Twenty years to the day since the accident, and the first time he’d faced the anniversary of it sober.

  After the accident, Matt had fallen into a deep downward spiral. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to go to Jimmy’s funeral. Instead, he had spent that day drinking every drop in his dad’s liquor cabinet. The thought of having to face Jimmy’s mom had been too much for him to handle.

  His dad had managed to keep him out of jail. Thanks to his dad, he also didn’t have to face the vehicular manslaughter charges he knew he should have been facing. With Dustin and Kelly refusing to even speak to him anymore and his best friend gone, he had nowhere to turn. So, he decided to turn to the bottle, and any pill he could get his hands on.

  “Why am I still here while he’s gone?” he constantly found himself thinking. Matt had walked away with hardly a scratch on him in comparison to the others. He had been sore as hell, and had a concussion, but no broken bones…and he was alive. His dad tried repeatedly to get him to get some help. “Talk to somebody, anybody” he had told him. “I can even try to talk to Teresa at the precinct if you want. God knows she helped me after I killed that man in that shootout in ‘03. If I hadn’t been too stubborn to ask for help, who knows maybe your mom wouldn’t have left that summer.”

  Matt hadn’t felt like he deserved to be able to get help. He deserved to have to live with the guilt he would tell himself. After a year, when the booze and pills weren’t having the effect he wanted anymore, he started turning to other drugs. Eventually, he had tried everything running the gamut from pot to meth. Anything he could find that may dull the pain

  Then, one night last November, he had almost died in an alley. And for the first time in a long time, woke up on a couch that hadn't smelled like piss.

  He had been homeless. Sleeping on doorsteps, eating food out of dumpsters, and spending every dime he made from the passersby downtown to buy more drugs. It had been one of these drug deals that led to him finding her. Or better yet, her finding him.

  Matt had been set up on the deal. When he went down the alley to meet Tommy, he knew something didn’t feel right, but he didn’t care if he got his fix. Once he gave Tommy the little bit of money he had made for the small rock, two of Tommy’s buddies came around the corner. They had left him a bloody mess, took back the crack, and left him for dead. He even hoped they had gotten the job done.

  A few hours later Matt woke up laying on a couch. “Where the fuck am I?” he thought.

  He tried to sit up, but immediately laid back down groaning. He closed his eyes as the room started to spin. He didn’t know where he was, but wherever it was, it smelled fucking delicious. “Ah, you’re awake,” he heard a woman say from somewhere in the room. He opened his eyes trying to focus on a painting on the wall to keep the world from spinning around him.

  “Where am I, and who are you?” he asked. He knew it was better than anywhere he had slept in a long time, and he should be thankful for that, but he was too confused for the gratitude to come through in his words.

  “I’m Beth,” she said. “You’re at my apartment, and we’re about to have some dinner.”

  Looking at her, Matt immediately had the thought, "Jesus, she's beautiful.” She stood maybe a hair over 5 feet, with brown almost black hair down to the middle of her back. As she walked closer, her eyes drew his attention. They were the most dazzling sapphire blue he had ever seen.

  I was walking home from work, and heard you groaning behind a dumpster I passed. I’m a nurse, so I stopped to check on you. I know I should have probably taken you back to the hospital, but I figured you might need more personalized care.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Well, I could immediately tell you were in a bad way, and not just from that beating you apparently took. My husband was an addict too. He passed away from an overdose five years ago. It’s why I became a nurse. I saw him in the hospital more times than I could count. I didn’t know how to help him at the time, and after so many visits, they didn’t want to help anymore.”

  Matt just stared at her. “I still don’t understand though, why am I here?”

  “I just moved here to be closer to my brother. I just started at this hospital a few weeks ago. So, I don’t know, but I suspect that they’re pretty familiar with you over there, right?” Beth asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. “So, I figured if they’re not going to want to help, you’re going to need someone who would.”

  “Who says I want any help?” he asked her. “I deserve everything that comes my way.”

  He heard a beep, and she told him she would be right back with his dinner as if she had not heard what he had said. After she walked away, he slowly tried to sit himself up and look around. He was in a small apartment with a bar leading to the kitchen behind him. She looked at him over the bar and smiled. He smiled back, and went to run his fingers through his hair, but gave a howl of pain when his finger found a tender spot on the back of his head. “Did you give me stitches?” he asked her.

  “I had to,” she said, coming around the corner back into the living room with two plates. “That gash was too deep not to put some stitches in. So, I cleaned it up, and you have 17 stitches back there. Make sure you don’t touch it.” She told him.

  Matt looked down at his plate. She had made what seemed like a feast to him. She had made oven roasted chicken, diced potatoes, and a mixture of corn and green beans. Steam rose off of the chicken. He hadn't smelled, let alone tasted, anything that good in months. His throat tightened. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was.

  “This looks delicious, thank you” he told her. He took the first bite of chicken, and about fell back over on the couch. It was the best thing he had eaten in months.

  “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “I still have some of my husband’s old clothes that I think should fit you. When you’re done, we can take a look, and you can take a shower if you’d like. I don’t have an extra bed, but you’re welcome to sleep on the couch tonight if you’d like. I’m off tomorrow, if you’d like I can help get you a hotel room for a couple of nights.”

  He stared at her blankly for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She was treating him with over the top kindness. “Was this a dream, or some sort of trick?” he thought. Sure, he’d had people give him spare change, or on a good day, maybe even get a couple bills, but real genuine human kindness seemed so foreign to him he wasn’t sure how to respond. “You don’t have to do all of that. The food and a change of clothes would be more than enough.”

  He did stay the night though and took her up on her offer for helping her find a place to stay. They saw each other each of the next few days, and she helped get him settled into a shelter a couple of blocks from her apartment.

  They continued spending more and more time with each other over the next several weeks. The more time he spent with her, the better he found himself feeling. Beth would stop by the shelter on her way home from work in the evenings to see him, and to make sure he was staying clean. Soon, he was finding that the cravings were less frequent almost to the point of nonexistence.

  One evening, on her way from work she stopped by the shelter to pick him up for dinner at her place. At the end of the night, she told him “I like you Matt, but I can't go through being with an addict again.” She looked him dead in the eyes, and said, “the first time you fuck up and touch any of it, I'll take you back to that shelter, and you'll never see me again.” Not knowing what to say, he just gave Beth a hug, and held her for a long time.

  From that night on, Matt was at home. Home…That was a feeling he could barely remember. It seemed another lifetime ago since he had been anywhere that he felt he could give that title to. And with the thought of having a home and Beth by his side, he had the best night of sleep he'd had in almost 20 years.