Ciro’s irregular breaths steadied, his mind overstimulated from the screen in front of him to the dead alien sprawled out on the rocks below. The color from the alien slowly drained, blood seeping. His mind reeled from what he had just done. But his shock was short-lived as his attention whipped back to the transparent screen in front of him.

  A faint hum of static filled the air. He tried to poke the edge of the glowing screen with his finger, only for it to go straight through. His face contorted in confusion as he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Congratulations. You registered the first kill. You have been awarded a mystery box,” his eyes squinted at the screen. “What the fuck is this shit.”

  He poked the middle of this screen this time, causing the screen to shift completely.

  “Huh…?”

  [STATUS] Ciro Adams Race: Earthling lvl 1

  HP: 10/10

  SE (Stigma Energy) 10/10

  STR: 3

  DEX: 2

  END: 1

  INT: 5

  PER: 2

  CHA: 1

  LCK: 10

  Ciro blinked, reading over the stats.

  “Am I really that weak?” he was in disbelief. The absurdity of his situation forced a chuckle of slight insanity. He’d been abducted by aliens, forced to kill an alien, and now he was staring at what looked like the interface of a video game. His eyes continued to lock onto the final stat. Luck.

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. 10? Doesn’t feel like it.”

  Before he could further question what he was seeing, his eyes caught a glimpse of a smaller text at the bottom of the screen.

  [Open Mystery Box?]

  He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what would happen if he pressed on it. But curiosity and a lack of any other options pushed him to tap on it.

  Before him appeared a floating gold mystery box with a red ribbon bow on top. It began to glow brighter; the box began to twist and shift as the lid slowly opened. A burst of light shot out, forcing Ciro to squint and turn away. When the glow faded, the box burst into multiple pieces slowly disintegrating.

  “Well, that was anticlimactic.”

  Then a new message appeared on the screen.

  [You have unlocked a new Stigmata: Peek]

  “What the hell is peek?” he said, more confused than ever.

  As if in response, the screen shifted to a new text, a description.

  You Gained The Stigmata [Peek (Lvl 1)]

  Peek

  Rarity: Bronze

  Cost: 0 SE, Cooldown: 30 Seconds

  Information Is Power and You Seek It. View the stats of others or entities within a 10-meter Distance.

  His senses remained on high alert. The apartment complex now felt eerily quiet, the occasional creak or spark putting him on edge. He glanced around nervously, now wondering if that was the only creature in this building.

  “Might as well try it.”

  He thought about using the ability, only to feel a faint pulse emanate around him. Only to pick up nothing. He shook it off and slowly pushed himself back up, taking one last glance at the alien, before scoffing.

  “Asshole.”

  He stumbled through the apartment back towards the corridor, each step an exercise in caution. The building groaned under its own weight; the walls cracked and the floors uneven. The occasional broken floorboard tripping him up. His body ached from the strain of the fight.

  The faint light from outside filtered through the broken windows and gaping holes in the structure, casting shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own.

  He approached the end of the corridor to the flight of stairs, which, to his relief, weren’t blocked off. With a grunt, he pushed through the double doors and began his descent down stairs. The building, whilst oddly strange, resembled that of earth’s buildings, enough for him to navigate through it without getting lost. But the deeper he went, the more oppressive the air became.

  A sound echoed through the corridor below, distant, but enough to send a chill down his spine. His grip on the bannister tightened as he listened.

  “I swear to God…”

  Ciro pushed the ground floor door open cautiously. His eyes set on the exit that loomed ahead. Beyond it, the world outside beckoned with an otherworldly glow. But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.

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

  The sky was an endless swirl of green, with streaks of blue lightning cutting through dark purple clouds. The ground was a cracked wasteland, dry and lifeless, stretching as far as his eyes allowed him to see. He could see the occasional building jutting out in the mirage, leaning at impossible angles, as if deliberately mocking gravity.

  A slight breeze swept through, carrying a metallic tang that rested in his mouth. Ciro’s heart sank, he already knew the weight of his situation. But this wasn’t Earth, not even close.

  “Great. Just great.”

  He took a step forward, his boots crunching against the brittle soil. He spun around, only to feel a pang of loneliness, so sharp it made his chest ache.

  I could really do with a drink right about now.

  The thought took a hold of him. Alcohol had always been his escape, a way of numbing the noise in his head, and right now, that noise was deafening. His mind flashed with the fragmented memories of being abducted, the fight, and the absurd stats screen.

  He wandered through the wasteland, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of life. On top of that, anything that may resemble a bar or a store. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one out there. But most of the buildings looked abandoned, or on the verge of toppling over.

  As he walked, the screen flickered in front of him again, bringing him to a halt.

  [Status: Mild Dehydration Detected]

  “Way to state the obvious Sherlock.”

  He swiped at the screen as if it would make it disappear. It didn’t.

  His frustration grew with each step. After what felt like hours, he stumbled upon a small structure. Something that looked vaguely like a market. Its metal exterior was rusted and worn, but a faint light seeped through cracks in the wall.

  “Worth a shot.”

  He peered through before pushing the door open, revealing an interior that was just as shabby as the outside. Rows of shelves lined the space, many of them empty or on the ground. But near the back, a faint glimmer caught his eye.

  He approached, stepping over debris and what suspiciously looked like bones. The glimmer turned out to be a row of glass bottles, their contents glowing a faint shade of orange and green. He grabbed one, scrutinizing it. The label was indecipherable, the letters in a script unbeknownst to anything he had seen before. But the liquid looked strangely inviting.

  “Got nothing to lose, so what the heck.” He unscrewed the cap, giving it a quick whiff.

  The liquid was sharp, electrifying, but it went down smoother than expected. Warmth spread through his body almost immediately, and for a moment, he felt calm.

  “Not bad.”

  He went to take another sip before his vision blurred, the edges of his surroundings suddenly twisting and warping as though reality itself was being sucked through time and space itself. The faint light from the wasteland leaked through the cracks in the wall, growing strangely bright, the space seared with green and purple.

  “What the hell…”

  He stumbled back, clutching at his head, as a sharp pressure built behind his eyes. The warmth in his chest turned to fire, coursing through his veins like lightning. His breathing grew erratic, each inhale sharper than the last. The room felt alive now, pulsating with a musical rhythm that matched the pounding in his skull. And then he heard it. A voice.

  You’re pathetic, but you knew that already, didn’t you?

  It was his voice, only more unsettling. Darker. Crueler.

  “What. Who’s there?” He spun around, only to find nothing.

  His heart thudded in his chest.

  “Over here Adams. You know where I am. You’ve always known.”

  The voice dripped with venom. Almost demonic. It echoed in his head, growing louder. He turned, desperately seeking the voice out, but amid the kaleidoscope of colors he couldn’t make out a thing.

  “You think you can survive this? Hoping to stumble your way out? You need me. You’ve always needed me, so let me out of here. You’re weak, defenseless. We won’t survive with you in control.”

  “What the hell are you? Get out of my head. You’re just… some side effect of this stupid drink.”

  “Oh, I’m more than real. I’ve been biding my time, waiting. You’ve chained me in the corner of your mind Adams, but how long do you think that will last?”

  Through the fog of colors, a pair of lifeless eyes stared back at him. It watched him as the dizzying colors swirled. Ciro clutched his head, pressing his thumbs against his temples. He swayed from side to side, cold sweat running down his back. With shaky legs, he staggered forward, moving away from the pair of eyes that seemed to watch him with a predatory gaze.

  “No! Get out of my head!”

  “Out of your head? You’ve truly gone mad. Why do you insist on forgetting everything? You can’t forget the past Adams, it’ll always catch up to you. One way or another.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Oh I wish I could do such a thing. But all you’ve done is prove your weakness. We’ll be doomed out here in this unknown with you taking charge.”

  “Just you wait, Adams. Just you wait...”

  Ciro gasped as a searing pain shot through his chest, like his heart was being ripped in two. His hands shook violently, his vision darkening. But as the darkness consumed him, his body gave way. The fire in his veins dulled, his sight now completely dark as his limbs went limp.

  Ciro finally stirred himself awake. His body ached as though he had fought a war. His head throbbed, and his throat remained dry. But that voice had vanished, replaced by an unsettling quietness.

  He groaned and attempted to stand up, but his body refused. The once glowing bottle lay shattered beside him. Its strange contents now a puddle on the floor. He blinked, his vision beginning to clear. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Every motion felt like a firework erupting from his core, but he refused to stay in the suffocating stillness of the room.

  He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall for support. His legs wobbled beneath him as he lumbered towards the exit. Each step was a battle, his body threatening to give out at any moment.

  As he emerged into the wasteland, the harsh light of the alien sky hit him like a physical blow. The air was heavy, carrying an acrid like stench. Ciro collapsed to his knees, his body too weak to carry him any further. He dug his hands into the cracked ground, gasping for breath. The high from the drink lingered, as the world around him still subtly warped.

  “Come on, move.” The words barely escaped his parted lips.

  He growled through gritted teeth, dragging himself inch by inch. His arms trembled under his weight, but he refused to stop. The voice lingered at the back of his mind. He couldn’t afford to lose himself like that again.

  His breathing was labored, his pulse shifting unnaturally in his chest. The silence being broken by the odd gust of wind. And then a sound pierced the stillness. A scream. It was distant, almost swallowed by the vast wasteland. It was raw, a cry of terror that sent a chill throughout his body.

  His head snapped up, his eyes scanning for any sign of the source. Adrenaline built, momentarily cutting through his cloudy mind. Another scream echoed, closer this time. The hair on the back of his neck stood.

  His mouth opened to shout back, but nothing came out. He could barely move, let alone investigate what was going on. Yet something deep within him, a primal instinct, urged him forward.

  He clenched his fist, punching at the ground, forcing his arms to pull him along. The scream continued to echo. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find it. But in a place like this, he realized, it might find him first.