The clock on Seed's wall ticked toward 11:00 p.m., He sat on his couch, the Book of Death open on his lap, The ink on the page gleamed as he stared at the words before him;
[Seed Wallace, Apartment 4A. Strangled by crazy female ghost. 12:00 a.m.].
"Alright, you cursed thing," Seed muttered, his voice hoarse in the quiet apartment. "Talk to me. Explain yourself. What are these powers, and what the hell do you want from me?" He felt foolish, speaking to a book, but its pulse quickened under his touch, as if it heard him. The pages fluttered, unprompted, settling on a familiar entry.
[BOOK of Death: Entry Profile]
[1666th Entry: Seed Wallace]
[Status: Bound Human+]
[Level: 1]
[Death Energy: 124/500]
[Corruption: 5%]
[SP: 5]
- Strength: 8
- Speed: 7
- Dexterity: 10
- Constitution: 10
- Perception: 11
[Privileges]
As the User of the book of Death, you shall be granted privileges for one who wears death as armor.
[1. Death Prediction]
Random deaths shall be predicted upon each page, giving the User the opportunity to save a person or not.
[2. Death Remark]
Uses Death Energy to grant the ability to kill anyone by writing their real name into the book of death while picturing their face. (Does not work on the undead.)
[3. Death Inheritance]
You inherit a small portion of the abilities of those you kill and the chance to transform into them and wield their full powers once. The higher your level, the stronger the ability.
[4. Death Absorption]
You absorb Death Energy to level up. Leveling up strengthens and increases the abilities and privileges you have.
[5. Stat Modification]
You can use points awarded after each level-up to increase your various stats. Upon reaching a collective threshold across all stats, your Constitution shall be upgraded.
Seed scratched his head, his brow furrowing as he stared at the page. It looked like a character sheet from one of Lila's old videogames that she loved playing, he was never really a fan of them but he did watch her play them from time to time So he could understand a bit.
Strength, Speed, Dexterity, Constitution?—he could wrap his head around those. They were physical, like lifting weights or running from danger. But Willpower? Perception? And that weird new line: [Corruption: 5%].
"Hey," he said, tapping the book, his voice sharper now. "Explain this. What' do you mean by Perception? And what's this corruption nonsense? Talk...or Write?." The book pulsed, Words bled onto the page
[User's Query Acknowledged]
[Perception: Your ability to see beyond the veil, to sense the metaphysical world and wield Death Energy with precision. High Perception unveils hidden truths about the world and sharpens your control over the book of death's Privileges]
[Constitution:For Every threshold increase in Constitution, your "status" shall be evolved and your overall stats shall increase with you gaining greater resilience against the Corruption.]
[Corruption: The Book of death's power taints your soul with prolonged use of its privileges. Fear not, User, for if you grow strong and reach a the Immortal status, Corruption shall become just another source of power.]
Seed's breath hitched. This whole shit show slithered in his mind, his finger tracing the Corruption line. "And....what happens if this… Corruption hits 100% before I'm 'strong enough'? Before my Constitution upgrades?" His voice trembled and then the book's cover pulsed violently, the human skin-like leather rippling under his touch and words floated from the page, hovering in the air like smoke.
"THEN YOU SHALL BECOME ONE WITH THE BOOK OF DEATH, AS THE MANY OTHERS BEFORE YOU."
Seed's heart stopped. The words hung there for a short while before dissolving back into the book.One with the Book of death? Others before him? The thought sent a chill down his spine. He slammed it shut, his chest heaving, He couldn't let that happen. Not while Lila was probably still out there, waiting for him to save her.
He forced himself to breathe, to focus. The clock read 11:15 p.m. Forty-five minutes until the Crazy Female Ghost came for him. He didn't know what she was beyond the childhood legend, a ghost with a mutilated mouth, asking victims if she was beautiful before slashing them apart. But the book had been right about Rebecca. He couldn't dismiss it now, not with everything that he had seen and experienced so far.
He needed to use its power, to fight back. His eyes darted to the Stat Modification privilege. Five points to spend, to make himself stronger, faster, anything to survive.
"Okay," he muttered, opening the book again. "Stat Modification. If I'm stuck in your game, I'll play it better than you ever expected me to" He thought of the crazy female Ghost, her speed and her suddenness in the stories. He'd need precision to dodge or strike first. Dexterity seemed the best bet over raw speed, "Increase Dexterity," he said, staring at the book of death.
The book's pages flared, ink swirling. A new line appeared:
[Increase Dexterity by 5?]
"Yes," Seed said, his voice firm despite the knot in his gut. The book pulsed, and a warm surge coursed through his fingers, a blackness passing through his veins, up through his arms, settling in his muscles.
[BOOK of Death: Entry Profile]
[1666th Entry: Seed Wallace]
[Status: Bound Human+]
[Level: 1]
[Death Energy: 124/500]
[Corruption: 5%]
[SP: 0]
- Strength: 8
- Speed: 7
- Dexterity: 15
- Constitution: 10
- Perception: 11
Seed bolted to the kitchen, yanking open a drawer. His fingers closed around a chef's knife. The clock read 11:45 p.m. Fifteen minutes. His pulse raced, sweat dripping from his forehead. By 11:59 p.m., Seed stood in the center of his living room, knife gripped tightly, the book on the coffee table. His eyes darted to the clock. Five seconds. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds. One second. Midnight.
Nothing. Silence pressed against his ears, broken only by his shallow breaths. The apartment was still. He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Maybe it was wrong?" he whispered, daring to hope. "Maybe—"
A loud knock shattered the silence, echoing from the apartment door. Seed froze, his grip tightening on the knife. Another knock, sharper, He crept toward the door, the floor creaking under his weight. "Who's there?" he called, No answer. He leaned forward, pressing his eye to the peephole. The hallway was empty.
He stepped back, exhaling shakily. "Get a grip, Man" he muttered, turning away. But as he did, a figure stood in the center of his living room, a woman in dark, tattered clothing, her long hair covering her face like a curtain.
Before he could move, she was gone like a blur , His eyes darted around, the knife raised. Then, a whisper, soft and chilling, right behind him: "Am I beautiful?"
Seed spun, his heart beating hard. She was there, inches away, her hair covering her face. He couldn't see her eyes, her mouth or anything, just strands of black hair.
"Y-Yes," he stammered, forcing the word out. "You're beautiful."
Silence. The air thickened, the temperature dropping. Then, she was gone again, the space before him empty. Seed's shoulders dropped, "Okay," he whispered. "Okay, now maybe—"
"LIAR!"