Farrington Farms: Slice of Life LitRPG Novel, page 1
Farrington
Farms
Rayden Fox
Copyright © 2023 Rayden Fox
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
1
Something is seriously wrong with this place, but I seem to be the only one who sees it. Seeing is the key word here, because nothing about the world, these people, or myself looks normal.
I need to back this up a few steps. I found this computer in my living quarters. It looks old. It has an ancient tower and a monitor that’s easily deeper than it is wide. That says something about what year it is here in Sohjoma, which is another question in itself. I’d never heard of Sohjoma until yesterday, and I haven’t figured out if it’s the name of the city, town, state, country, or whatever. All I know is that’s where the owner of this place welcomed me.
I’ll back up again. Whoever finds this, know that I don’t mean to sound so crazy. I’m just trying to keep my sanity. This whole mess started yesterday evening. I found myself standing at this farm, Farrington Farms. Now, here’s the weird part. Well, one of a dozen weird parts. I don’t know how I got here. I didn’t drive, or take a bus, or walk. I don’t think, at least, but I can’t remember a dandy thing before then. When I got here, this woman came out of the house, asking if my name was Jeric.
Okay, full disclosure, my name isn’t Jeric, which I’m suspecting is short for Jericho. I don’t know why I know this, or what my real name is, but I know that isn’t my name. When Mrs. Farrington asked me, I froze, like my body refused to budge until I offered her a response. Why I said ‘yes’ is still bothering me, but this vibration hit my body when I did. Oh, and I. . .
“Good morning, Jeric.”
He started to freeze when he heard the name he wasn’t certain was his, right until he realized how strange it would look if Mrs. Farrington happened to glance at his ‘sanity journal’. Quickly he hit the sleep button, then spun around in the old office chair.
This was another item on the long list of weird things at Farrington Farms. Mrs. Farrington, the owner, obviously, was a tall woman, with long, dark red hair, and bright blue eyes. While neither of those things was strange, it was the rest of the woman’s features that set off little red flags in his mind. She was slim, but not in the way normal people were slim. Her body went straight up and down, and her face barely had any features other than her eyes. Her mouth was little more than a line that opened and closed when she spoke, and he couldn’t see her nose unless she happened to turn a certain angle. In short, she looked like a cheap anime woman, which made it impossible to tell her age.
“Good morning, Mrs. Farrington,” he managed when he realized he was being rude. “Did you need something?”
“Just came to see if you’ve had a chance to look at the farm yet,” she said before folding her arms over her flat chest and leaning against the doorframe. “It’s what I hired you for, after all.”
“Yeah, I know, I just. . .”
Went a little crazy and locked myself in the barn? He thought to himself while Mrs. Farrington stared at him with her fixed smile, awaiting his response. It didn’t even occur to him yesterday to go out into the fields, because suddenly appearing in a strange place had him freaked out to the point that he could hardly breathe.
“. . .I was just getting ready to, actually,” he lied and feigned a smile.
“Wonderful!” she squealed with a touch too much enthusiasm for his taste. “After you do, come to the house. I’ll have breakfast waiting. My daughters just got home from holiday last night, and they’re dying to meet you.”
“I’m uh, looking forward to it.”
He waited patiently as the woman gave him a nod, just like anime women would do in the shows he felt he used to watch. There was a set of wooden steps outside of his bedroom loft, and he could hear the heels of her boots on every step. As soon as he couldn’t hear the sound, he expelled his breath, then turned to finish his thoughts.
. . .the lack of details on Mrs. Farrington’s face is freaking me out, but no more than anything else around me. I need to go check out this farm though, or else something bad might happen.
With that, Jeric, as he was called, saved the file, then backed out to the home menu. There was another file that was locked, for some reason, which was where half his time went last night. Whatever it was, the file held over half of the computer’s entire memory capacity, which meant there was something big behind that icon. There wasn’t even a password prompt, which was strange, yet perfectly normal when compared to his surroundings.
With a sigh, Jeric turned off the computer, then gave his little living quarters a once-over. The bed was comfortable enough, even though it was barely big enough for him to lie on. There was an armoire along the wall, but he didn’t have any clothes to put into it. At the moment, he was forced to wear a pair of patched overalls, with a button-up shirt beneath, and a pair of black boots which currently sat next to the bed. Other than the computer desk, there was nothing else in the room.
“Better look at the farm,” he groaned and stuffed his feet into the boots. “Before I get fired from a job I don’t remember putting in for.”
His door led to a small wooden balcony that overlooked the interior of the barn below. The area beneath him was vacant, aside from the dust and dirt floor, but there were tons of rusted equipment on the other side. None of the equipment looked familiar when he explored the barn last night, but the dust and rust may have prevented him from figuring out their purpose.
Not that I’d know a piece of farming equipment if I saw it. He thought to himself as he descended the stairs and went outside.
It was hot and dry outside, leaving Jeric to guess if it was June, July, or August. While he didn’t know much about farming, he knew enough to realize that starting up a farm should happen before spring. It was another odd item for the list, but one that he could ignore in favor of the greater issue.
Like how I got here, or who I really am.
The view from the side door showed a clearing large enough for a tractor to turn around with a long wagon, in his opinion, along with a short, yet long building on the other side. Unlike typical farms, both barns were painted dark blue, with white trim. At least they had been painted at some point in time, because the coating was so faded that he nearly had to guess at its colors.
Inspecting the paint job of the barns wasn’t his task, so Jeric took a reluctant walk around the long, narrow building to see the supposed fields for himself. If it was a vineyard, then there should be rows of grape trees, or whatever it was that grapes grew on. However, when he cleared the corner of the building, he didn’t see what his brain stated should be present.
“That’s a fudgy nightmare,” he cried out as his wide eyes scanned the horizon.
That was another thing on the list of strangeness. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t swear, at least not out loud. Whenever he tried, the word would be replaced with something else. Last night, when he couldn’t sleep because of the obnoxiously loud crickets, he let out a long line of f-bombs. Instead, it came out fudge, fridge, feet, and several other f-words that were safe to say in front of children.
The unwelcome censorship was one thing, but what stood before him was a literal nightmare. The field looked like something that a Disney animal would get chased into, given the spirals of thorny vines that appeared to have died twenty years ago. He kept expecting a monster to come running out to get him, or one to chase him into the thorny brush. Either way, it certainly wasn’t a vineyard before him, and every ounce of his being said he’d have to clear this mess out if he wanted to keep his job.
Do I want to keep this job though?
Jeric was contemplating a run for the hills while he slowly stepped closer to the brush, searching for some sign that grapes had once grown there. However, just when he was close enough to reach out and prick himself, another vibration him, just like yesterday, when he lied about being Jeric. This wave was far stronger though, and he checked his pants in fear that he’d wet himself.
“This is impossible” he stared at the overgrown brush with no clue how he would get a grape from it.
“It sure does look bad.”
Jeric whipped around with a lump in his throat to find a newcomer smirking at him. She was short, with dark blue hair pulled into pigtails, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that proved she didn’t have any curves to her body either. He remembered Mrs. Farrington had said something about her daughters having come home last night, so he made an assumption and tried to slow his heart to a rate that wouldn’t see him heading to a hospital.
It could get me out of here though.
“Sorry, I was just uh. . .”
“Screaming in fear of the herculean task Mother hired you to do?” she teased with a wink of her purple eyes. “I’d be freaking out too, if I were you. Really don’t know what Mother was thinking when she decided to get this old farm up and running again.”
“Yeah, about that,” he groaned and turned to give the overgrown nightmare another look. “How in the world did this use to be a vineyard?”
“Oh, it was, back when my grandfather owned it,” she sighed and stepped past him to stare at the mess. “Believe it or not, I used to run through there, back when these were grapevines. Don’t know why they call them ‘vines’, because they looked like little trees back then, but, whatever. Who am I to say, right? Anyway, I’m Joanie. Joanie Fa
Joanie turned around and gave him a beaming smile, accompanied by her outstretched hand. All the nodding made him think this was like Japan, and he was supposed to bow. However, the outstretched hand said something else was at play here, so he reached out and gave her hand a shake. Just like before, a vibration hit him, but it was far weaker than what he experienced not five minutes ago.
“This is where you say your name, remember?”
“Right, sorry,” he chuckled, knowing that his cheeks were probably as red as the barns were supposed to be. “I’m Jeric, or Jericho Wallace, if you. . .”
Why did I know that suddenly?
“. . .will.”
“Think I like Jeric better,” Joanie replied with a wink. “Anyway, Mother sent me to fetch you for breakfast. Better hurry up though, because my sisters just got up.”
“Yeah, right, just uh. . .” he stammered while his brain went back to the other problem he recently discovered. “I just need to stop by my room real quick.”
“Is that true, or are you going to make a run for it?” she teased with another wink. “I know I would. Probably take you a year to get this place looking like a vineyard again, and school starts in a few weeks.”
“School? How uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Thinking of asking me out?” she giggled and reached out like she was trying to touch him, only to miss by a foot. “Bit bold, considering we just met. Oh, and Mother would make a scarecrow out of you. I’m nineteen, since you asked. Why, how old are you?”
“Nineteen,” he replied quickly.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you at the house, okay? It was nice meeting you, Jeric.”
“Yeah, nice to meet you too.”
It was nice, when he thought of it, and he waved when Joanie looked over her shoulder at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear that he was flirting with her, even if she looked like some stick figure a twelve-year-old had drawn. She didn’t look like an adult, which was troubling, but at least he’d gained one more answer he didn’t have.
Now, back to my other problem.
As quick as he could, Jeric jogged back to the barn, then slammed the door shut once he was in his room. The panic of the task ahead of him threatened to take over until he heard a beep from the computer, which was strange as well since he knew he’d turned it off. He knew what he’d heard though, so he quickly sat down and booted up the old device. When the screen appeared, he saw there was an exclamation point along the top, which he used the wired mouse to click on.
“Examine the farm complete!” he read from the message filling the screen of the dusty old monitor. “25 XP rewarded. Meet Joanie Farrington complete! Persona unlocked. What the crap is this? Am I. . .”
Jeric was questioning the message when he realized there was another icon at the top of the screen that was flashing. There was nothing else to the message, so he clicked on the flashing icon that looked like a dog-eared piece of paper. What appeared on the screen next saw his jaw dropping, and suddenly a clue was offered as to where he was while he looked over the screen:
Jericho Wallace
Level
1
Experience
25
50
Persona
0
1
10
Locked
Locked
Locked
Locked
Locked
Locked
Locked
“Looks like some RPG stuff,” he groaned and looked it over again. “Crappy RPG though. Where’s the strength, dexterity, and. . .well, maybe that’s what all the locked stuff is, and. . .and I’m talking to myself.”
Jeric let out a sigh before closing out the screen. He understood experience points, levels, and even persona. Why he had those things was another issue, but the message icon was flashing again, so he went back to it.
“Meet Whinny Farrington. Meet Cassidy Farrington. Reward: 25 XP, 1 Persona point,” he read before closing out the board. “Well, since I’m heading to the house anyway.”
2
The house was easily the nicest building on Farrington Farms. It was a typical farmhouse, two-story, with tall windows, and painted to match the barns. The gutters were falling off though, and one of the windows had been boarded up. When he went in, the door screeched, then got stuck on the floor before it was open far enough for him to slip through.
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to use the front,” Mrs. Farrington called out while hurrying toward him. With a grunt, she jerked the door three times, which saw it budging just far enough for him to slip inside. The effort saw a thick strand of dark red hair breaking free, leaving it dangling in front of her eyes as she caught her breath. “I don’t think the front door saw much use. For future reference, use the kitchen door on the other side of the porch. In fact, maybe you should avoid the porch altogether.”
“Yeah, it looked like it was getting ready to cave in,” he replied as he thought back to the condition of the porch floor. It was made of some old wood, with flaking black paint that the sun had stripped away over the years. Most of the boards were starting to warp notably, and probably had a family of animals living beneath it.
“Well, come on in. Breakfast is getting cold. Well, what’s left of it, that is.”
Jeric gave her a nod, then followed her through the kitchen. The cabinets looked ancient, and some of their doors were missing a hinge, leaving them to dangle like that strand of Mrs. Farrington’s hair. The floor was linoleum, likely older than Mrs. Farrington herself, which left him questioning their financial status.
The dining room wasn’t so bad though, so long as he looked beyond the peeling wallpaper and cracked window. The table was enormous. It was long enough to have three chairs on either side, as well as one at the head and foot. Four plates of food had been sat out. Pancakes, bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs. There was only one piece of bacon left though, as well as a single pancake, four pieces of toast, but plenty of eggs.
“Well, go on, take a seat next to Whinny there,” Mrs. Farrington laughed with a nod toward one of the vacant seats. “You can fix your own plate while I clean up the kitchen.”
The moment the mother left, all eyes shot toward him, and he turned to see if a monster had just entered the room behind him or something. Joanie offered him a wave, then went back to nibbling on her toast while returning her attention to the old, hardback book in her hand.
“So, you’re the guy Mama hired with money we don’t have?” a low, grumpy voice sounded from next to Joanie.
Jeric looked up from his empty plate to find a brunette leaning on her elbows, staring at him with her bright blue eyes. She was taller than Joanie, slightly thicker, and the raised brow she offered said she wasn’t as pleased to meet him as her sister had been.
