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His stomach churned once again, and for a moment, he thought he might vomit. The metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, and the weight of his actions pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket.
But there was no time to dwell on it. The faint sound of voices from inside the backroom snapped him back to reality. The metal door was still ajar, and the remaining three O'Driscolls were just beyond it. Caleb knew he had to act quickly. If he didn't take them out now, they would come looking for their missing companion, and he'd be dead before sunrise.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. The system window once again flickered in front of him, displaying two new notifications, not just one that surprised him.
Blunt Weapon (Lvl 0: Beginner - Novice) Acquired!
Description: You possess no prior knowledge or experience with blunt weapons. You are learning basic concepts through observation, hands on practice, and foundational study. Your technique is rough, but you are beginning to understand the fundamentals of using blunt objects as weapons.
Sneaking (Lvl 0: Beginner - Novice) Acquired!
Description: You possess no prior knowledge or experience with stealth. You are learning basic concepts through observation, hands on practice, and foundational study. Your movements are clumsy, but you are beginning to understand the fundamentals of moving quietly and avoiding detection.
Caleb dismissed the notifications, his mind racing. He had no time to celebrate the small victories. He needed a plan to take out the remaining O'Driscolls. The element of surprise was his only advantage, but he had to be smart about it.
He crouched low, peering through the crack in the metal door. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of tobacco and whiskey.
Two of the O'Driscolls were seated at a table, playing cards and drinking. The third was leaning against the wall, cleaning a revolver. They were relaxed, their guard down, but Caleb knew that could change in an instant.
He glanced at the knife in his hand, then at the rock he had used earlier. Neither was ideal, but they were all he had. He needed to take them out quickly and quietly, one by one.
Caleb slipped through the door, staying low and moving silently. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He crept toward the man leaning against the wall, his footsteps barely making a sound. The O'Driscoll was focused on his revolver, humming a tune under his breath. He didn't notice Caleb until it was too late.
Caleb lunged forward, driving the knife into the man's throat. The O'Driscoll let out a choked gasp, his eyes wide with shock as he slumped to the floor. Caleb caught him before he could make too much noise, lowering him gently to the ground.
He turned his attention to the two men at the table. They were still engrossed in their card game, their voices loud and slurred. Caleb picked up the rock, his hands slick with sweat. He needed to take them out quickly, before they could react.
He crept closer, his heart racing. The first man was laughing, slamming his cards down on the table. Caleb raised the rock and brought it down hard on the back of the man's head. The O'Driscoll crumpled forward, his face hitting the table with a dull thud.
The second man looked up, his eyes widening in shock. "What the—" he started to say, but Caleb was already moving. He swung the rock again, this time aiming for the man's temple. The blow landed with a sickening crunch, and the O'Driscoll slumped to the floor, unconscious.
Caleb stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, where after that he used the knife to slice the throats of the two O'Driscolls to kill them permanently.
After that the room was truly silent now, the only sound the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. He had done it. He had taken out all three O'Driscolls without alerting anyone outside.
But the victory felt hollow. The weight of what he had done pressed down on him, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He had killed four men in the span of a few minutes. It was something he had never imagined himself capable of, but in this world, it was kill or be killed.
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. There was no time for guilt or regret. He needed to get what he came for and get out before anyone else showed up.
Caleb moved quickly, searching the room. He found the pile of cash on the table, along with the Schofield Revolver. He stuffed the money into his pockets and grabbed the revolver, the weight of it comforting in his hand.
The safe was in the corner, its surface dull and unyielding. He didn't have the key, so he decided to search the room, as he didn't have any lock breaker.
He searched the drawers and cabinets, across the table as well but didn't find any key. Then he looked across the three years bodies of O'Driscolls and holding back his nausea and urge to vomit, he looked through the bodies.
At the first and second body, he doesn't find any keys, and finally, on the third one, he finds the key tucked in the pocket of the O'Driscoll. He opened the safe, his eyes widening at the sight of the stacks of cash inside. He grabbed the money, stuffing it into his pockets alongside the rest.
As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of himself in a cracked mirror on the wall. His face was pale, his eyes wide with shock and fear. He barely recognized himself. The man staring back at him was a killer, someone who had done what was necessary to survive.
Caleb tore his gaze away, his stomach churning. He couldn't afford to think about it now. He needed to get out of here.
Before he slips out the back door, he finds a satchel and takes it with him as it can come in handy, putting the money he had stuffed into his pocket at the satchel, then leaves the room closing the door quietly behind him.
The alley was empty, the only sound the distant hum of the saloon. Caleb moved quickly, staying in the shadows as he made his way to the hotel.
He paid for a room with some of the cash spending around 5 dollars for 5 nights, his hands still trembling as he handed over the money. The owner didn't seem to notice, too busy counting the bills to pay attention to Caleb's state.
Once inside his room, Caleb locked the door and collapsed onto the bed. His body ached, and his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. He had survived his first real test in this world, but at what cost?
As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning. The world of Red Dead Redemption 2 was brutal and unforgiving, and he would have to become even more ruthless if he wanted to survive.
Caleb's body and mind were utterly spent as he lay on the creaky bed in his rented room. The adrenaline that had carried him through the night had finally worn off, leaving him drained and heavy with exhaustion. His eyelids drooped, and despite the turmoil in his mind, sleep claimed him quickly.
At first, his dreams were pleasant. He found himself back in his old apartment, sitting on his worn leather chair, the glow of the television screen casting flickering shadows across the room.
The familiar smell of stale coffee and burnt popcorn filled the air, and he felt a sense of comfort and safety. But then, the dream shifted. An eagle soared overhead, its shadow passing over him, and suddenly, he was no longer in his apartment.
He was back in the doctor's backroom, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of the O'Driscolls. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, and the room felt colder, darker. The bodies seemed to stir, their eyes opening to stare at him accusingly. Voices echoed in his mind, condemning him for what he had done.
"Murderer," one voice hissed.
"You killed us," another whispered.
"You're no better than the outlaws you despise," a third voice growled.
Caleb's heart raced as he looked around, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I didn't want to do it. I had no choice. It was kill or be killed."
But the voices didn't stop. They grew louder, more insistent, pressing down on him like a suffocating weight. He felt the guilt and dread clawing at his chest, threatening to consume him. For a moment, he thought he might break under the pressure.
Then, a bright light filled the room, cutting through the darkness. The voices faded, and the bodies disappeared. Caleb stood alone in the empty room, the light washing over him. He felt a strange sense of clarity, as if the dream was forcing him to confront the harsh reality of this world.
"This is who I have to be," he whispered to himself. "This world doesn't forgive weakness. It doesn't reward kindness. If I want to survive, I have to be ruthless."
The dream shifted again, and Caleb found himself standing in a vast, open field. The sun was shining, and the air was fresh and clean. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, the psychological pressure lessening. He wasn't free of guilt, he doubted he ever would be, but he felt a sense of resolve. He had done what he had to do, and he would do it again if necessary.
When Caleb woke, he was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up abruptly, taking deep, gulping breaths as he tried to steady himself. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. He wiped the sweat from his face with a trembling hand, his mind still reeling from the dream.
He looked around the room, grounding himself in the present. The events of the previous night felt like a distant nightmare, but the weight of his actions still lingered. He had killed four men. He had taken their lives to save his own. It was a harsh truth, but one he had to accept if he wanted to survive in this world.
Caleb got out of bed, his body stiff and sore from the previous day's labor. He dressed quickly, his mind already turning to the tasks ahead. He grabbed a few dimes from the satchel he had taken from the O'Driscolls and headed downstairs.
The hotel lobby was quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows across the wooden floor. Caleb approached the front desk, where the owner was busy polishing a set of keys. "I'd like a hot bath," Caleb said, his voice calm but firm.
The owner nodded, gesturing toward a door at the back of the lobby. "Bath's through there. It'll be ready in a few minutes. Need anything else? We've got additional services, if you're interested."
Caleb shook his head. "Just the bath, thanks."
As he waited, he overheard a conversation between two hotel guests sitting near the fireplace. Their voices were low, but Caleb's heightened perception allowed him to pick up on their words.
"Did you hear about the bodies they found?" one man said, his tone hushed. "Four of them, in the doctor's backroom. Nasty business."
"Yeah, I heard," the other man replied. "Sheriff's got the doctor in custody, but he's saying he doesn't know anything about it. Says he was tending to some patrons at the saloon last night when it happened. His alibi checks out, though. Guess the investigation's still underway."
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 6/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 5/10
- Charm: 4/10
- Luck: 5/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 1)
- Rifle (Lvl 1)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 0)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 0) - New!
- Sneaking (Lvl 0) - New!