Backrooms 3: Kiosk Kingdom - Chapter 26 - 27

Hey everyone! So this was originally one chapter. At just under 5K it was a little too long for a normal chapter, so I split it. But now the chapters are just a little on the short end, so I opted to post them together (they were done after all, so I figured why not). That's it for now. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-Six – Disappeared

The three of us gathered our gear, making sure nothing got left behind, then we filed out of the forge into the bitter chill of the night. Thanks to my new Sigil, I hardly even felt it. My breath still misted in the air, and Harper’s teeth were chattering loud enough to count as Morse code, but for me it felt like a balmy seventy-two. Shorts and flip flop weather. The ethereal lights of the Polaris Vora stained the sky overhead and painted the snow-covered streets of Kringlegard in otherworldly shades of blue, green, and violet.

“About time,” a voice called from the shadows. Temperance stepped into a pool of light, her arms crossed and expression unimpressed. A moment later, Croc emerged behind her in its usual blue dog form—still sporting that ridiculous red gnome hat. Not that the mimic was wearing it exactly. The hat was technically part of Croc’s body, which somehow made it worse.

“I’m so glad you’re out of there,” Croc said. “You wouldn’t believe the number of times I had to talk her out of storming in there and trying to kill Nikoli on principle.”

“Why didn’t you just radio us?” I asked.

“I tried” she said, “all I got was static. There must be some sort of runic suppression field built into the walls of the forge.”

I grunted. Honestly, that sounded entirely plausible. Nikoli was an enigma, armed with tech and tools so advanced I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around them. A runic suppression field felt like exactly the kind of overcautious safety measure he’d have tucked away, just in case.

“Well?” I asked, “did you find anything or what?”

“Or what,” she replied quietly. “But we shouldn’t talk here.” She tapped her ear and mouthed the words, he might be listening. She glanced left and right, clearly searching for eavesdroppers or prying eyes. She looked cagey. Nervous. Which was strange. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her look nervous. Pissed? Sure. Homicidal? Absolutely. Board? At least once a day.

But nervous? Never.

Whatever she’d discovered today had shaken her.

Temperance cleared her throat, then continued at a normal volume. “It’s been a long day,” she said, “Croc and I would love to tell you about the market while we walk. We discovered a great deal of interesting things that would make lovely editions to the store.” She turned and waved for us to follow as she slipped down a dark alley, which cut between a pair of nearby houses.

I shared an uneasy glance with the others but followed.

Temp led the way with sure footed confidence, her silhouette sharp against the cold glow of Kringledard’s lanterns. But instead of sticking to the main streets—crowded with Delvers even at this late hour—we took back alleys, empty side-streets, and cut throughs seemingly at random. She kept her pace steady, but moved with a weary caution, her eyes sweeping doorways and rooftops, searching windows for anyone who might’ve been looking our way.

At one point, she paused at a frozen fountain, tilted her head to one side like she was listening for something only she could hear, then promptly changed directions, doubling back the way we’d just come. It took us nearly half an hour of weaving, retracing, and stealing through abandoned courtyards before she finally slowed and came to a stop.

I slipped up beside her and dropped my voice low, “Do you think someone is following us?”

“Not sure,” she replied, “but someone was most certainly tailing us earlier—though I’m not sure who.”

“Wulfgar?” I suggested.

“No, not Wulfgar,” she replied without a hint of doubt, as the others leaned in to hear her answer. “Wulfgar might act friendly toward Nikoli, but I suspect the opposite is true. Don’t get me wrong, Nikoli has his fair share of supporters, but once you stir the calm surface of this quaint little pond, you’ll find even more people who can’t stand him. They just won’t say it out loud. Not where anyone might be listening.”

“What makes you so sure about Wulfgar?” I asked, replaying the conversation we’d had with the giant Viking earlier. He’d literally threatened to murder us all if we fucked around with Nikoli—not exactly the vibe of someone nursing a grudge. “Seems to me like he’s Nikoli’s right-hand man. If there were an award for Goon of the Year, he’d already have it framed on his wall.”

“Appearances can be deceptive,” she said, “and believe me when I say there is no love lost between them. It took some digging, but with a few bribes, a little flirting, and several pitchers of mead, Croc and I managed to uncover something interesting. It turns out, Wulfgar was the last person to openly revolt against Nikoli. This was about five years ago. He and his wife rallied the blacksmiths and a good chunk of the local garrison in an attempt to oust Nikoli by force.”

Huh. Now that was interesting. “What happened?” I asked.

“Well, the night before they were set to raid Nikoli’s Soul Forge, Wulfgar’s son—Eirik—vanished. Gone without a trace. From what I could gather, the boy was only six or seven at the time. The next morning, Wulfgar found a gift-wrapped present waiting outside his door. No one knows exactly what was inside the box, but whatever it was convinced Wulfgar to disband his fledging rebellion. He’s been a perfect enforcer ever since.”

“And it’s not just Wulfgar,” Croc added. “There have been two dozen disappearances since Nikoli showed up in Kringlegard ten years ago.”

“Remember that old guard woman from the gate?” Temp asked.

“The one with the missing leg?” I asked, thinking back.

“Yes, one and the same,” Temp replied. “We’ll, once Croc and I managed to get her well and truly drunk, she ended up being a treasure trove of information. Apparently, she was part of Wulfgar’s ill-fated rebellion. And from what we could gather, she still very much wants to see Nikoli tossed out on his ass.”

“That’s putting it a bit mildly, don’t you think?” Croc said. “She said she wanted to cut off his limbs, slow roast him over an open fire, then feed him piece by piece to the Yetis.”

Temperance grinned. “She has incredible anger issues, is deeply troubled and I think I might have found a new role model. But that’s not the point,” she said, waving a hand through the air. “She confirmed that wherever Nikoli goes, disappearances follow. She didn’t have any direct proof, but every single disappearance is tied to someone who spoke out against Nikoli in some way. A child, a spouse, a family member or close friend. Step out of line and they’re gone, just like Wulfgar’s little boy.”

“Do you think Nikoli is killing them?” Harper asked, already sounding sick to her stomach.

“Doubtful,” Jakob replied. I could already see the gears click-clacking away in his head. “If he kills them, he loses any leverage he might have. I doubt Wulfgar would be so loyal to Nikoli if the man had sent his son’s head in that box. But a finger or ear? Something to prove that the boy lives, but only at Nikoli’s discretion? That could be a powerful incentive to keep dissidents in line.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I said, “that’s fucking dark.”

There was definitely something off about Nikoli—but taking hostages? Torturing them to keep political rivals in line? That level of cold-blooded cruelty was hard to wrap my head around. It just didn’t seem possible. Then again, the Backrooms had a way of turning people into monsters. I’d seen it before. Hell, I’d felt it. The pressure to do terrible things out of necessity. When life and death was on the line, most people would do anything they deemed necessary—not matter how disgusting—in order to survive.

“How sure are you?” I asked.

“Seventy-five percent,” Temp said. “Though I’ll admit, I actively dislike Nikoli, so maybe it’s just coincidence and confirmation bias—seeing shadows because I want them to be there. But even accounting for that... it still looks like a pattern to me.”

“Assuming you’re right,” Harper said, “do you have any idea where he’s keeping the hostages? I can’t imagine it’s anywhere in town.”

Temperance shook her head. “If anyone knows, they didn’t tell us, but if I had to guess, I’d say they’re in that Soul Forge of his.”

“That would also explain why he can’t ask anyone else for help,” I said, mostly to myself. “If the hostages really are there, Nikoli can’t risk anyone from Kringlegard getting close enough to stage a coup. And even if they did help, he probably doesn’t trust them not to stab him in the back while he’s busy fighting Krampus.”

“Your logic has merit,” Jakob said, nodding. “But as outsiders, just passing through, we’d have no reason to suspect anything. Everyone here praises Nikoli—at least in public. It’s entirely possible he intends to honor his bargain with us. He’s powerful, but so are we, and he has no leverage against us. Helping us leave the 49th floor quickly is in his best interest. He has no incentive to fight us, and every incentive to cooperate. It might be distasteful, but perhaps it’s best if we just follow the plan? Take down Krampus, then move on?”

Croc stiffened. “Jakob, are you seriously suggesting we just walk away? If we’re right about Nikoli, we can’t leave those people. That wouldn’t be right.”

“I’m not saying what we should do,” Jakob countered. “I’m just laying out the facts. If Nikoli’s guilty, then yes—he’s a monster. But that doesn’t automatically make him our enemy. Both can be true.”

“No,” Croc said, voice firm. “I don’t buy that. Anyone who kidnaps a kid and uses them as leverage is a bad guy. And we don’t make deals with bad guys. Right, Dan?”

I didn’t answer. Not immediately.

Croc was right, but somehow that didn’t make this decision any easier. Making deals with someone who held children hostage went against everything I believed in. At the same time, we didn’t know these people. We didn’t owe them anything. And we’d worked with monsters before, when it had served our goals. My mind immediately flashed to the mysterious Director, who’d set our feet on this path in the first place. I had no doubt she was a monster who’d committed untold atrocities, but we’d gladly taken her intel and her gifts.

The easy play was to help Nikoli take down Krampus, then keep moving. Head for the 75th floor and be done with it. But the easy choice rarely lined up with the right one.

Truth was, I didn’t want to fight Nikoli—not on his home turf—but I also didn’t want to leave here knowing I’d let a bastard like him keep his boot on people’s throats.

“Uh, Dan?” Croc prompted. “I said, we don’t make friends with bad guys.”

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Of course not.”

Croc didn’t let up. “Then what are we going to do?”

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking.

“Okay,” I said after a long pause. “We play along… for now. Like Temperance said, all we have is circumstantial evidence. Unless someone like Wulfgar talks, we don’t actually know anything. Not for sure. And if Wulfgar’s protecting his son, he’s not going to say a damn word. So, we stick to the plan. Help Nikoli take out Krampus. But before we leave, we find a way into the Soul Forge. That’s where the truth is. One way or another.”

“What if Nikoli refuses?” Croc asked.

My jaw tightened. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. For now, though, we need to be ready for anything. Given what we know about Nikoli, I’m betting he’s already scanned our Spatial Cores. I doubt he could see all my Relics, because of their rarity levels, but he probably has a pretty good idea of what the rest of you are capable of. But once we equip these”—I pulled out one of the Nope.exe Sigils I’d crafted—“he won’t be able to see jack-shit.”

“If he’s already scanned our cores,” Harper said, brow furrowed, “how does that help us?”

“It’s going to help us because we’re about to upgrade all your Relics,” I said matter of factly. “Nikoli thinks he knows exactly what each of you can do—but if things go sideways, he’s gonna be in for a nasty surprise. We need to move fast, though. Daybreak’s not far off, and I need at least a few hours of sleep if I’m going to be worth a damn come tomorrow.”

With a rough plan already forming in my head, we headed back toward the inn.

No one said a word as we slipped through alleyways and backstreets, doing our best to stay under the radar. The tension was palpable. Hanging in the air and coiled in every movement. Everyone was on edge—eyes darting to rooftops, shadows, and dark corners like they expected Nikoli to materialize out of thin air.

He didn’t. Not that I really expected him to.

Nikoli was powerful, sure, but not omnipresent. And for now, he still needed us. He couldn’t take down Krampus on his own, which meant we were still useful. Still necessary.

But once Krampus was gone?

All bets were off.

Chapter Twenty-Seven – Team Upgrades

It had to be close to midnight by the time we finally reached the Holly Hearth.

The warm, golden light spilling from the windows felt almost obscene after Temp’s bombshell revelation. Inside, the common room was as loud and chaotic as ever—Delvers laughing too hard, chugging mead, and scraping plates clean, while others belted out a song that definitely wasn’t in English. It sounded vaguely German or maybe Scandinavian. Someone spilled a drink, someone else pelted them with a cup in retaliation.

Life went on.

Like none of them realized they were living under the bootheel of a tyrannical dickweed, with hostages stashed away like bargaining chips.

Despite my new Sigil, I couldn’t shake the cold. Not the physical kind, but there was a chill in my chest now. Deep. Bone-rooted. Like something had shifted just a few degrees off true, and I didn’t know if it would ever reset.

Hannah wasn’t at the bar, which was probably for the best. I wasn’t in the mood for polite conversation, not knowing what I did. Wulfgar was also nowhere to be seen, but there was hot food waiting for us. Carla—Hannah’s assistant—handed us plates piled high with some kind of savory roast and creamy mashed potatoes. There were vegetables, too. Roasted to perfection. Croc gagged at the sight of them and hastily scooped them onto my plate with one rubbery paw.

“So corpses are fine,” I muttered, “but vegetables is a hard line in the sand?”

“I’ve got standards, Dan,” Croc replied firmly, “and a very refined palate.”

I just stared at the mimic.

“Standards and refined palate?” I repeated incredulously. “I’m not sure those words mean what you think they mean, bud. I once watched you eat a metric ass-load of humanoid spiders with toddler faces. Went to town on ’em like you were at an all you can eat seafood buffet.”

“Wait a minute,” Croc said, ears perking up, “are you telling me that there are all you can eat buffets? As in you eat until you can’t eat anymore? That sounds like paradise.”

“Back in the real world, yeah,” I replied. “Though I’’ll bet dollars to donuts there’s probably some fine print about Eldritch Horrors or creatures from other dimensions. Also you’re deflecting. You did eat a giant corpse pile of spider toddlers, right? Or am I misremembering things?”

“Those spider toddlers tasted like cookies,” Croc said with a sniff. “Besides, I can’t eat vegetables, even if I wanted too—which I don’t. All the fiber gives me terrible gas. Believe me when I tell you that you do not want to be sleeping in the same room as a mimic with terrible gas.”

Touché. For once, I couldn’t disagree.

With plates in hand, we excused ourselves and took the food upstairs.

As we crowded into one of the tiny rooms they’d provided for us, I found myself breathing a heavy sigh of relief. Never had a day had started off so promising only to ended up as such a colossal shitshow. I dropped onto one of the twin beds, the mattress squeaking beneath my weight, and a moment later Harper joined me.

Temp and Jakob sat across from us on the other narrow bed, while Croc curled up on the floor with its plate. I was dead on my feet, and there was still a mountain of prep to handle before tomorrow—but my stomach had turned into a black hole.

I damn near inhaled the food, hoovering it down like a shop vac, then licking my fingers clean just to be sure. The roast was tender and packed with flavor, and while the vegetables were a little overcooked and mushy, after going all day without a bite, they tasted like mana from heaven.

I ate so fast and so much I had to unbutton the top of my jorts just to breathe.

Once I’d finished stuffing my face like a drunk Marine on shore leave, I set the plate aside, pulled out the Sigils I’d crafted earlier, and laid them out on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Alright, first things first,” I said, shifting into work mode. “You’ll need to equip these to your Artifacts. They’ll help in the fight against Krampus, but more importantly, they’ll conceal your Spatial Core configurations from Nikoli.”

Croc frowned, ears drooping. “Dan, I don’t want to cause problems,” the mimic said, sounding genuinely apologetic, “but... I don’t have any Artifacts. Dwellers can use them, but we don’t naturally spawn them. Artifacts need Material Significance, and we don’t have that. We’re not from the real world, remember?”

I gave the dog a smile, though a wave of sadness settled in my gut—heavy and inexplicable—as I pulled the collar from my pocket.

“Don’t worry, bud,” I said, handing over the freshly crafted Artifact. “I didn’t forget. I made this for you.”

Croc extended a paw that morphed into an unsettlingly human hand and accepted the collar. The mimic ran a thumb over the nameplate, then turned it over to read the engraving on the back.

“Dan’s best friend,” Croc said softly, voice catching.

The dog looked up at me, and even though googly eyes shouldn’t be able to cry, somehow, they were leaking.

“Do... do you really mean that, Dan?”

“With all my heart, buddy.”

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Croc said softly. “It’s even better than the Froyo or the corpse piles.” The dog hesitated. “But if you made a rare-grade Artifact doesn’t that mean you had to give up a really important memory?”

I nodded.

“Which one was it?” Croc asked.

I shook my head. “Can’t remember, but if it keeps you safe, I’m sure it was worth it. Can I help you put it on?”

“It would be my honor,” Croc said, scooting close enough for me to fasten the collar around its rubbery neck. I clicked the latch into place and some of the cold nestled deep inside my bones seemed to seep away. I had no doubt this place would try to take more from me, but as long as I had Croc—had friends who cared about me—I knew I wouldn’t ever lose my way. Not completely.

“Alright,” I said, “how about we get started upgrading some of your Relics?”

Temperance practically launched herself off the bed. “Me first!” she squealed, pulling a Relic from her Spatial Core in a flash of golden light. She handed over a swirling orb buzzing with dark energy, Ball of Dire Mosquitoes.

“Any way to make this more lethal?” she asked hopefully. “Ideally, I want all the Dire Mosquitoes to have tiny knives strapped to their legs. Does that seem realistic?”

I chuckled as I took the Relic. “I can’t promise bladed insects, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need any extra Relics you’re not using—and that goes for all of you. The more raw materials I’ve got, the better the upgrades. I’ll also need Relic Shards. I burned through my stock at the forge, and I want to make replicas first.”

“Replicas?” Jakob asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll use the originals for the Krampus fight, so Nikoli doesn’t get suspicious. Then, once we’re clear, you swap to the upgrades before we move on the Soul Forge.”

“Whatever,” Temp said, eyes gleaming. “Less talking, more bladed insects.” She opened her Storage and started dumping unused Relics onto the floor like a kid emptying out a toy chest.

“Alright,” I said, cracking my knuckles. “Let’s work some Backrooms magic.”

Between the three of them, they’d amassed an impressive collection of unused Relics—some I’d never even heard of.

Before I could start the real work, though, I had to fabricate a duplicate. I was exhausted and doing it without a crafting table made things harder, but not impossible. A few minutes later, I had a second Ball of Dire Mosquitoes ready to go. I handed it back to Temperance, then turned to the stockpile of amassed Relics, picking through the mess until I found a few that resonated.

That’s when the real fun began.

There were a ton of possible combinations, and though I didn’t find anything that would allow her Dire Mosquitoes the ability to wield cutlery, there were two that practically screamed with an unholy Synergy—an Uncommon called Health Eater and another Uncommon, Chick-nado, which resembled a colorfully painted Easter egg. That last one conjured a small whirlwind filled with furious chickens, who dealt piercing and slashing damage and had a five percent chance of afflicting their victims with Avian Syphilis.

When forged with Ball of Dire Mosquitoes, they formed a new Relic called Biblical Pestilence. It was a Fabled-grade ability that summoned an all-consuming cloud of ravenous murder locust, that would eat and burrow through victims, afflicting them with Bloodrot Malaria while simultaneously converting a portion of damage into life for the user. Although Temperance was understandably disappointed that the locust didn’t wield razor blades, she was happy with the end result.

Next up was Butcher’s Cleaver. I started by duplicating the original, then fused it with Tenderize, Escalation of Force, and a third Relic called Spinal Tap. The result was Flesh Frenzy. Surprisingly, it only ranked as Rare-grade, but it was a serious upgrade. When activated, it ignored 25% of the target’s physical resistance, dealt an extra 30 points of slashing damage on contact, and after three consecutive hits, applied a stack of Tenderized—increasing all incoming physical damage by 30% for 15 seconds.

Efficient. Brutal. And a perfect fit for Temp.

The best upgrade, by far though, was for her Smallpox Blanket.

Jakob happily offered up a Relic called Plague Daddy, which increased the virulency of disease-based abilities, while Harper apologetically handed over the truly disturbing Diarrhea Beam—“Yes, it’s real. No, we’re not proud.”

Patient Zero

Fabled Relic – Level 4

Range: Touch

Cost: 45 Stamina

Cooldown: 2 Minutes

With one touch, you become ground zero for the end of someone’s very gross, very short future. When activated, Patient Zero delivers a devastating Plague Burst on contact, dealing a catastrophic 50 points of disease-based damage and causing large, oozing necrotic lesions to erupt across your target’s skin like some sort of body horror popcorn.

The target is afflicted with a particularly virulent strain of Bubonic Plague. Not the weak, history textbook version. We’re talking turbo-charged, magically enhanced, liquefy-your-organs-from-the-inside Bubonic plague. Victims will suffer from massive Internal Hemorrhaging for 120 seconds, dealing an additional 50 points of disease for the duration of the spell effect. That’s two full minutes of leaking out of every available orifice, plus a few surprise ones!

Great for boss fights, hostage rescues—assuming you hate the hostage—and family reunions you don’t want to attend.

And so it went.

I could barely keep my eyes open, but despite how worn out I was, we worked through the night and into the early morning hours.

Jakob’s Uncommon Cow Catcher ability became the sustainably more powerful Shoulder of God—a Fable-grade charge attack that caused Knockback and dealt Radiant Damage.  Facebreaker became Bash to the Future—a devastating shield bash, that dealt blunt damage and had a 50% chance to stun affected targets for 10 seconds—while Bloodbank received an upgrade to Overdraft Protection.

Fabled Relic – Level 3

Range: Self

Cooldown: 1 Month

Dying is for quitters. And you are far too dumb to just lay down and die like a normal person.

When some eldritch horror, bloodthirsty death knight, or flying urinal with teeth finally punches your ticket, Overdraft Protection punches back. When your hit points reach zero, this emergency fail-safe kicks in like a life-saving backup generator, automatically reviving you at 25% of your Max Health, clearing all status effects, and granting a temporary +20% Movement Speed buff for 20 seconds. Someone is really going to deeply regret not double-tapping your bloated, blood-stained corpse.

Always remember, you might die like a loser, but you’ll come back as a legend!

Unfortunately, I only managed to upgrade one of Harper’s Relics before the ache in my head had grown so bad that I couldn’t see through the pain anymore. Still, I wanted to make sure we got the most bang for our buck, so I focused on her healing ability.

Duct Tape Triage was powerful and versatile but had one fatal flaw—it could only heal surface wounds and couldn’t touch internal injuries or cure status effects. But I’d stockpiled a ton of other, lesser healing Relics that could help shore-up its shortcomings. When forged with Embalmer’s Anesthesia, Crude Stitch, Pharmacist’s Scales, and—interestingly—a Rare-grade item identifying Relic call Pawnshop Appraisal, it created something that was far more well-rounded.

Field Surgeon’s Scalpel

Fabled Relic – Level 1

Range: 10 Meters

Cost: 40 Mana

Cast Time: 2 Seconds

Cooldown: 30 Seconds

Ever try patching up a sucking chest wound with half a bottle of whiskey and a sewing kit you stole from a hotel room? Well, the ol’ timey Field Surgeon sure as shit has. And somehow, against all odds and common sense, it works. I really shouldn’t—not if Gray’s Anatomy has taught us anything—but here we are. Broken bones. Emergency battlefield amputations. Horrific napalm burns. There isn’t much this bad boy can’t fix.  

Field Surgeon’s Scalpel is the no-frills, back-alley miracle for when some dumbass decided to fistfight a goddamned woodchipper or got frisky with a trap labeled “Do Not Touch.” It won’t regrow limbs, or missing bits and bobbles, but it will heal up to 500 points of Health, re-knit fractured bones, suture ruptured organs, and purge most common status effects—including bleeding, poison, disease, paralysis, and “I did something stupid and now I’m melting.”

But it comes with a catch. Sure, it’ll heal what ails you, but it’s going to leave an evidence trail of your jackassery. Scars, burns, and pockmarks remain as a gnarly reminder that you should probably think twice before attempting to fight a dire bear with a camping spork.

This Relic enables Mana usage.

By the time I was done forging that last Relic, I was delirious and as weak as a newborn kitten. I hadn’t recovered from my time in Nikoli’s workshop, and I’d pushed myself past the limits of common sense. I wanted to crawl back to my bed and sleep for a week, but I couldn’t even muster the strength of will to stand on my own two feet.

Instead, I collapsed on the lumpy twin mattress.

Harper hit me with a dose of Field Surgeon’s Scalpel, but it didn’t do a damned thing. I wasn’t missing any HP and in the most technical sense of the word there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Truth was, the human body could only be pushed so far, and I’d hit the wall.

While the others murmured quietly around me, I let my eyes slip shut and fell dead to the world.