On My Brother's Grave: Reconnaissance: A LitRPG Adventure (Vatenkeist Online Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  On My Brother's Grave :

  Reconnaissance

  -Vatenkeist Online: Book I-

  A Work by E.M. Hardy, for LitRPG Freaks

  On My Brother’s Grave: Reconnaissance

  Copyright © 2017 LitRPG Freaks

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  Chapter One

  The darkness shattered with the sudden explosion of bullet blasts as I turned a corner and opened fire into the bedroom. I kept my hand steady as my pistol unloaded. Four shots afterwards, I moved in closer to the large bed.

  My target lay lifeless on the mattress, riddled with holes and splattered blood. He was old, roughly in his late fifties or early sixties, and as obese as a rich, sick bastard could get. Just to make sure the job was done, I aimed once more, this time at his head, and shot one last time. The bullet burrowed through right between his eyes.

  Suddenly, a door to the side opened and out walked a slender woman, naked save for the towel wrapped around her torso. She looked so harmless right now, almost innocent. But I knew better than to have mercy on that scum. Before she could fight back, I fired at her, taking her down with three shots to the chest. She fell and slumped down to the corner, the light from the bathroom shining down on her now motionless corpse. Her eyes were still wide open with shock, but the life that once glowed in them had vanished.

  She was beautiful, even as she was now, like a mannequin on the floor. In some ways, she even reminded me of my first girlfriend when I was younger. I had seen too many dead bodies to really care, however, and decided it was time to move on.

  I took another moment to wait and make sure no one else would walk into the room. I was pretty sure I had cleaned the whole area, but it wouldn’t hurt to be a little extra careful. Fortunately, I didn’t hear anything else except for the soft whistling of the air conditioning unit.

  Once I was certain the coast was clear, I holstered my gun and rummaged through the bedside drawers. A smile crept across my face when I saw the documents I needed were right there. I didn’t even have to look through a safe – the fat bastard actually kept his list of associates and important accounting books right here by his side. Maybe he was just so paranoid that he needed to keep these with him at all times. Either way, it worked to my benefit. I grabbed the papers, rolled and stuffed them behind my back, and then walked out of the room.

  Entering the main hallway of the manor, I walked over the bodies of the guards and gunmen I had taken down to get this far. I softly counted how many I had to kill with just my hands and a knife just to reach their boss. By the time I got out of the manor and through the front gates, my tally had reached twenty-seven, which included the four guards at the entrance booth.

  I continued to walk out and carefully treaded out passed the neighboring estates until I was a good three blocks away. I then turned southwards until I finally reached my car, parked across a children’s park.

  After I got in, I reached for the glove box, flipped open the hidden compartment inside, and took out my smart phone. I then dialed a number and waited for the other person to pick up the call. Within a few moments, I heard a crackle from the other end.

  “Hello?” the man sounded groggy and tired. “This is Chief Superintendent Simms.”

  “This is Rivers, reporting for duty,” I greeted. “It’s done Chief.”

  Immediately, the chief’s voice shifted and I heard enthusiasm as he asked, “Ah, Corbin, how are you? Did you get the documents as well? How many casualties are there?”

  I leaned back in my seat as I answered, “I’m fine. No one even noticed my presence. I counted twenty-seven kills, with his wife, and yes sir I did get the files.”

  “That’s sad,” the chief remarked. “I always thought his wife was a little too hot for a skanky drug dealer. But you did the right thing. She ruined way more lives than we could ever hope to save. Besides, none of these bastards could be left breathing. There was just too much at stake. After three years of hard work, I’m glad we finally managed to bring this syndicate down. I’ll send in a squad to sweep the area and gather up the evidence before the media get brought in.”

  “No problem, chief,” I replied. “I’ll be heading home now. Just give me a ring if you need anything else.”

  The police chief then told me, “You’ve been the best private contractor we’ve ever worked with. I highly doubt there’ll be any trouble for now. I do expect the other mobs to begin clawing at each other to take over the newly available territory.”

  “That’s the idea, right? We’ll take them out too,” I informed the chief. “In due time, we’ll make this city mob-free.”

  I then ended the call and swiped through my phone apps. I searched for my bank’s app and quickly opened it to access my account. It took a while longer than usual, due to the poor reception in this neighborhood, but it eventually opened and connected online. With a quick glance, I saw that the police department had indeed deposited the amount we had agreed upon.

  With the job done and the money in hand, I couldn’t help but smile. Most police departments revolted at the idea of hiring private hands for help, but Simms always loved calling me for these kinds of jobs. If I failed, the police wouldn’t be blamed since I wasn’t one of them and it wouldn’t matter if I got killed in action. If I succeeded, they could take the glory all for themselves.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

  My phone suddenly vibrated with a new message. I opened it upon seeing it was from my younger brother, Jason.

  Hey dude, the message read. I love you. I just want you to know that. I’m really sorry to disappoint you and everything. I hope you can forgive me.

  An eyebrow shot up as my face twisted in confusion. I looked at my phone and read the message again. I checked the time; it was 3:17 am. Why would my brother still be awake at this hour and, more importantly, why would he send me that kind of message? It just screamed of something wrong.

  Not wanting to wait any longer, I turned the key, stepped on the gas and drove my way back home. As I sped through the streets, emerging out of the suburbs and back into the downtown area, my thoughts trailed back to my brother’s message. I tried to think of the last moment I had seen him.

  That was a good week ago. He was in our home, up in his room, playing a video game. It was one of those fancy VR games where he had to lie down and put on a weird kind of headgear. Virtual Reality had been around since I was a teenager, but it had advanced so much in the last twenty years. I knew a lot of kids who got addicted to those games. They could spend more time in t
he virtual worlds than in the real one.

  In this moment, I could only hope he was doing just that. At least, there, he’d be safe. My worst fear was that one of the gangs I helped the police take down somehow discovered who I was and the role I played in the current war against organized crime. There was always that lingering fear that they’d storm down the doors of my house and riddle my brother with bullets.

  That would be impossible, however, as my brother and I didn’t share the same last name. My full name was Corbin Rivers and he was Jason Teldove; I took our mother’s maiden name to make sure no one could connect us.

  As I drove, I took my phone and dialed his number. It rang but no one answered. I called again, and then a third time, but still I was met with no response. A cold knot began to form in my gut as I feared the worst.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity driving through the city streets, I arrived at our apartment complex. As quickly as I could, I parked, got out of the car and pounded on the front door. When Jason didn’t answer, I dug into my pockets and pulled out my key. Frantically, I thumbed through the different keys until I found the right one and managed to unlock the door.

  In that instant, I bolted right in and screamed, “Jason! Where are you?”

  The lights were on in every room. I passed by the kitchen and saw several of the cupboards and drawers were open. Even the refrigerator door was left ajar, and it looked like he had made a bowl of cereal in a hurry because the box and milk were still on the counter.

  “Jason!” I called out again. I checked the first floor bathroom and found the lights on, but no one inside. I then rushed up to the second story and bolted through his room. That was when I felt that knot in my gut let loose, and I bit down on my fist in utter disgust.

  My younger brother hanged from the ceiling, a belt wrapped around his neck. The other end was tied to a ceiling fan. As I looked up, I noticed he was naked and had a sheet of paper tied around his neck. Words in red ink were also written across his torso. They spelled out the phrase “I’m a stupid bitch.” Jason had a clamp biting down on his manhood as well.

  When I looked up at his face, it was dark blue and his eyes were wide open. It looked like they would pop out of their sockets at any given time. His dark brown hair was a mess and his once beautiful blue eyes were bloody red.

  I had to look away. And as my gaze averted down, I noticed several deep slashes by his wrists. The blood looked dry and it appeared like he had been cutting himself multiple times as there were scars riddled across the length of his arms.

  Tears flowed down my cheeks as I rushed to get my brother down. Even after I removed the belt, I knew there was no hope of him resuscitating. He had likely lost his breath thirty minutes ago, when I got his last text message. By now, it would be too late to even try and conduct CPR. I had seen too many corpses to get delusional about the situation now.

  As I held his lifeless body in my arms, I remembered the first time I had done it, when he was but a chubby-cheeked baby in the hospital. I remembered the joy and pride I had felt when my parents had told me I was going to have a little brother. In that moment, just like right now, Jason had looked so fragile, so vulnerable.

  Wincing as those memories flooded my brain, I grabbed my phone and dialed for an ambulance and the police. A respondent answered my call immediately and, within minutes, help was on the way. However, I knew that would still take some time, so I took the liberty to read the note he had left behind.

  Most of it was an apology. It was hard for me to read through as the tears smudged the ink, but I suddenly felt a pinch of guilt as my brother revealed how much he missed me every time I was gone for one of my infiltration or assault missions. He revealed how much he wanted to spend time with me, and the only way he could work around that was to spend his days with his friends in a virtual world.

  However, as I read through, I found a paragraph that hinted at something darker and far more sinister than just loneliness or depression.

  I found some guys in this game, Vatenkeist Online, the lines read. They all seemed cool at first but after they let me join their group for some dungeon raids and stuff. They’re called The Ascendants. But then they started to keep poking fun at me. They wouldn’t let me in on the loot and fun unless I humiliated myself in front of them. The things they made me do… god, they’re awful, Corbin, and I feel so ashamed of what I’ve done. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, all I feel is hate and disgust. I can’t live with myself anymore. I hate myself. I don’t deserve to live.

  While I wasn’t entirely sure, I guessed those people were responsible for the slash marks on his arms and the words sprawled across his chest. That realization only made me mad, however, as I couldn’t understand how or why Jason would stoop so low for a simple video game. And why didn’t he tell me anything before?

  I was tempted to check his computer but that would have to wait. I wanted to focus my time on him. As soon as the ambulance and police would arrive, they’d take him away and bring him to the morgue. Our home would become open for investigation and most of his stuff would be brought to the station for evidence checking.

  Right now, I just held onto Jason and looked at him one last time before it was time to say good-bye.

  Chapter Two

  Several days had gone by, following the funeral, yet my mind was still stuck in the moment I had found Jason’s body. The note he had left and the way he had defamed himself for his so-called friends all hinted that his suicide wasn’t of his own doing.

  Fortunately for me, the cops did not take his computer to the station. It was a large piece of equipment too, since Jason was so engorged in gaming that he had built the most powerful gaming machine he could. It even had its own complex water-cooling system and a built-in emergency power supply in case the electricity in our home would ever short out.

  By late Saturday morning, around 9:30 am, I finally had the time to do my own investigation. The previous day was spent cleaning out the house and his room – I took out whatever I didn’t think was necessary and stored them all up in boxes in the basement. I still kept the bed, computer and VR gear because I needed to see for myself what kind of people he had dealt with. After all, what kind of sick bastards would goad a teenage kid into killing himself?

  I brewed a cup of coffee and sat down to turn on his computer. I waited a quick moment as the damn thing booted up and, for a fleeting second, made me think of computers back when I was a kid. Back then, it took at least a minute or two for a desktop computer to turn on, but now it was just a matter of seconds.

  Jason’s desktop was neatly organized. I could see he kept all his game shortcuts in one folder. There were at least a dozen different games, however only one stood out to me the most – Vatenkeist Online. This was the one where he had met those bullies – they could be sick psychopaths for all I cared, I had to meet them to truly judge them.

  Curious, I clicked on the icon for the game. A text box popped up and read:

  I raised an eyebrow at that. I had never played with VR technology before. I didn’t really know how it worked nowadays. I didn’t see how Jason played, since there were no physical controllers or the like. There was just a headset.

  “Well, what’s there to lose?” I mumbled, as I sipped my espresso one more time and decided I should put it on and give the game a go. “Maybe I can find those kids who did this to Jason and teach those morons a lesson. I will find where they live in real life and beat the living shit out of them.”

  Of course, in order to find out where they lived, I had to meet them in the game. Knowing this was my best course of action, I stooped down to make sure the VR was hooked to the CPU. Once I was sure it was plugged in, I rested on the bed and put on the headgear.

  “This feels so weird,” I whispered as I snug it on my head. The device was pretty big as it covered my head, eyes and ears like a pilot’s helmet.

  As soon as it was firmly on, I felt a jarring shock at the
back of my neck, like a short electric spark that pinched at my skin. The sting quickly faded, and the visor screen came to life. A blue screen greeted me with a message stating a player had been detected and it asked if I wanted to proceed to play Vatenkeist Online.

  “Uh, yes,” I then said in response. I didn’t see a way to click on something or type in a command, so I figured the headset worked with voice commands. To my pleasant surprise, it did, and the greeting screen dissolved. A moment later, it flashed again but now I read through multiple questions.

  “Let me make my own avatar,” I answered.

  The message faded out and in its place appeared a perfect reflection of myself. The game had replicated exactly how I looked – down to my dark hair, pale skin, five o’clock beard and deep blue eyes. Even my height – I stood a towering six-foot-four – was accurately depicted. It was like standing in front of a giant mirror.

  Right beside my reflection, I saw multiple knobs that were labeled “hair” and “eyes” among other things. I didn’t know what to do, however, and I didn’t see how I could edit my options without a mouse or controller.

  After about two minutes of waiting and doing nothing, a text box flashed.

  Move my hand? I gave it a whirl and moved my right hand. Surprisingly, I saw my hand in the screen, moving towards the knobs.

  “Amazing,” I muttered softly. It was shocking to see how the game copied my exact movements.

  I toyed with the technology for a few more minutes before I got back to adjusting my character. I had to fiddle with the knobs a bit to see how they worked and how far I could adjust my appearance. It turned out I could really alter how I looked, even to the point of adjusting my height and hair length.

  When I checked the other playable races, I discovered there were quite a few. I discovered I could be a hulking orc, a lithe and young-looking elf, a dwarf or a human. There was also a demon-looking race called the Venaris, but the message prompts told me a first-time player such as I wasn’t recommended to use that option. I decided to stick with the plain old human.