Okay, okay, so I didn’t necessarily need the sand yet. I still had a plan to get as much clay as my storage unit could possibly handle, as well as fifteen or twenty bags of sand. Maybe ten. I could plausibly do ten bags.

Technically I only needed five bags. Five bags to do a whole batch.

Or two. I only needed two bags of sand to make to glass in order to repair the greenhouse. I needed the sand to make that tonight. Run the tool the entire night. I could do this. But as that monster was there, snarling at me, maybe I should go with clay first.

I gathered the clay, watching the creature remain on its side of the bridge as I walked back to the house, trying not to feel like it would tear me to shreds. Technically it was as high as my mid-calf. I could take it, right?

As I returned back to the river, I realized that I did not actually feel like I could take on this monster. I mostly hoped it would get bored and scuttle away, but this was a bush spider monster. The only reason why it would go away would be if a bigger monster was chasing it.

I focused mostly on clay as the sun reached its peak. I started to shape ten of the clay to get them baking in the sun. I would have done more, but ten was all I had. I mostly did it to see if the monster would get bored again and scuttle away. When the stone blocks were done, I placed them in the fence before making ten more stone blocks.

I don’t know why I put so much hope on that monster getting bored. Despite it having no eyes, it could clearly see me and wasn’t going anywhere.

I wanted that sand. It was always on my mind, even as I dropped a board into the dumpster to get enough to start priming the living room in the afternoon. There wouldn’t be a guarantee that the monster would be there tomorrow.

I couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I needed sand to start that tool tonight and get me some glass. I needed to be efficient! It was this stupid time crunch coming back to haunt me. If there were no horrors or haunts plaguing me, I would absolutely love to take my time to make this house a beautiful place to live in. But no. There had to be giggling ghost children and shrieking grandmas, as well as wolf creatures that could run on its hind legs and them that drained me of all energy. And now there was a bush spider monster that blocked me from getting resources that I needed to finish my jobs.

I knew, eventually, that I would come to this situation. It was a side covered in monsters, after all. I couldn’t avoid them forever. And if I wasn’t careful, that bush spider monster might alert more friends.

It had to be done. I had to attack that monster to get the sand. I couldn’t avoid this forever.

“Stupid game,” I muttered to myself as my hands were balled into fists at my side. “Stupid, stupid realistic game. Why couldn’t I be making fun little cucumber sandwiches for a lovely tea party with a bunch of NPC’s?” I headed toward the river, my voice getting far more annoyed. “Pastries and cupcakes. Passing around little jars of jams and marmalade for scones in my beautifully done up forest green living room and entertainment room. Sip tea with merchant NPC’s as we talk trade. Better yet, where’s all those stupid NPC’s I can romance?” I glared at the sky. “Where’s my rugged logger man eye candy? Or even a bookish nerd in the library down the street? Why can’t I have someone to romance and prepare a special cake or make a complex statue to win his heart so I could get help around the farm? Make it so we keep the house beautiful and become the jewel of the little town in the middle of nowhere. But nooooooooo,” I said, holding out the syllable so the alien overlords could hear. “Somehow I got stuck in a game where I’m isolated and alone except for all these stupid monsters that want to attack me.”

I kicked a tree for good measure. Sure, it stung, but I was also on the side of sanity, so it didn’t hurt my health points. “Whoever thought of the horror genre should die!”

Okay, maybe I was being harsh, but I saw absolutely no appeal to this whatsoever. Though maybe the horror genre was old enough that the person who founded it was dead already.

Which meant I wasn’t only harsh, but insensitive, too.

I wanted to ramble to the sky some more, but we were approaching the bridge, and it was smarter to stay quiet. I wanted to do this well before the sun set, because if I really was facing a spider monster, I’d rather do that in the daylight.

I held my breath, pulling out my axe as I got close. I hid behind a tree before glancing around and seeing the monster was gone. My breath stayed in my chest, because I found myself with a different conundrum. Which was worse? Seeing the monster or knowing it was there and not seeing it?

If I wanted to survive this, I needed to treat it like this was a trap. I kept my axe in my hand, my hands gripping it as tightly as I do on the nights they attacked. I was pretty sure I already made grooves into this axe handle holding it like this.

I placed one foot in front of the other as I moved across the bridge. The river masked most of the noise I made, but I was still walking across a bridge in daylight. As soon as my sanity turned into health points, I sprinted toward the sand. I didn’t dare lower my axe, so I took my time filling the first two bags, my eyes traveling everywhere again. I picked up the bags, ready to head back to the bridge when I heard scuttling right behind me.

I screamed bloody murder, dropped both bags, and swung my axe with all the strength I could muster. The axe blade caught the spider monster and tumbled to the ground. I didn’t stop there. I ran up to it, still screaming as I slammed the axe into the monster again and again and again.

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The thing was a bleeding green pulp of shredded leaves and broken sticks, and I was still screaming at it, hitting it like it was still alive and kicking.

I didn’t stop until it was an unrecognizable blob in the sand before I backed away, breathing heavily.

“Right,” I mumbled, moving some of the strands of hair from my face. “Well… that did it.”

I wasn’t even sure how many hits I needed to kill the thing. I was attempting to try a type of attack where I never let the creature touch me.

I cleared my throat and grabbed the two bags of sand, rushing toward the bridge. The attack still made my limbs shake. There was a good chance the monster would have buddies.

“The more sand I have now, the less likely I’ll be over here next time,” I whispered to myself, glancing around as I crossed the bridge again.

It was a mantra I repeated in my head as I filled two more bags of sand. The entire forest grew still, and my heartrate spiked.

“Nope,” I said.

I grabbed those two bags and booked it over the bridge. Four bags of sand. That was fine. I could use that. A monster screeched behind me, and I couldn’t tell if it was close or far. Big or little. It was angry, that’s all I knew.

Four bags of sand were more than enough. I sprinted to the other side of the bridge and was thrilled to have my health points turn into a sanity bar.

Okay, maybe thrilled was the wrong word in this context, but the state in which I was in was far more relaxed than it was on the monster’s side, and I had to acknowledge that.

I glanced at my wolf timer, seeing that the wolf was deciding to stay in its den for a long time tonight. Perfect. I needed all the time it would give me.

Once the second batch of stone blocks were done tonight, I would put in the four bags of sand so they’d be done in the morning.

My priority would always be the fences. The stone blocks finished off the main fence, which meant I’d need stone blocks for the one around the greenhouse once they were done. The greenhouse fence and the main fence followed a similar list, so I was confident enough that those stone blocks would be the last things it needed, too.

In the dying light of the sun, I turned toward upgrading the cooking fire. It needed 0/10 bricks, which I hoped to have a healthy supply by the end of tomorrow. What I really needed to focus on was upgrading my storage in order to fit all those bricks and the extra produce I’d be making with a second greenhouse.

I worked on cutting down logs for boards. I only stopped to transfer the stone blocks from the tool into the greenhouse fence before storing the rest. Then I placed the four bags of sand in the tool. I went back to chopping down trees for upgrading my storage all the way until the wolf timer started blinking. I was close, too. I had 86/100 boards in the storage room. Much like the garage, I was certain this would be asking for bricks, which meant I was doubly glad I was planning on baking those clay pieces for bricks tomorrow.

I pulled out my to-do list as I locked the back door.

Repair all damages caused by them

Strengthen the wall around the house and greenhouses

Prime and paint three rooms on first floor

Upgrade cooking fire

Purchase third article of clothing for farming

Plant lettuce and carrots

That’s right! The living room was done priming! I should have started the kitchen!

I glanced at my timer, seeing I had twenty seconds left. Twenty seconds and a half full bar of sanity.

“Do it, Quinn. Be brave. You killed a monster today,” I whispered before grabbing my last two bundles of firewood from the storage area and sprinting out the front door.

The garage and the dumpster were close. I dropped the two bundles of firewood into the dumpster without staying to acknowledge my bump in dopamine points. I then sprinted to the garage.

“Kitchen, kitchen, kitchen.” I slapped my palm against the painting station, waiting for it to respond, keeping an eye on my wolf timer.

Something glitchy was happening. I watched the timer counting down from eleven seconds, then to seven, before it disappeared to zero. My heart stopped as I stared at it.

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t realize…”

The wolf snarled right beside the garage, and my eyes went huge. Despite all of this, I still glanced down to see the kitchen on the 3d replica had turned blue and had a six hour time it was counting down from.

“’Kay,” was all I said before I booked it out of there.

The wolf was clawing against the garage as I sprinted out of there. With a leap that should not be possible, the wolf sailed over the fence, that spine snapping sound echoing across the lawn.

I felt my legs pumping as the front door got closer. My brain was frozen, unable to think, which was a miracle. I was neither thinking of the good nor the bad that would come from this endeavor.

That wolf was sprinting fast. I could hear those two legs moving up behind me at an inhuman rate as I threw open the screen door then shoved myself through the front door.

I slammed the front door, locking it tight, breathing as I heard the wolf snarling again, its body thumping against the door. I panted, leaning my entire body against the front door even as I heard the wolf retreating. My brain unfroze as a million thoughts entered my head. Some thoughts were of how crazy that was that I succeeded. Other thoughts were how I was never leaving this house again.

That might have been stupid, but it was also a learning opportunity. Now I knew that if the timer was blinking red, there was a chance it could alter. Especially with how close the wolf got.

I saw something move inside the house, and in a panic, I turned on my flashlight and pointed it toward the movement.

It was Killie, lying in the middle of the floor, moving her tail from side to side as she gave me a look that I could only translate as judgmental. I didn’t see the point of defending myself against my cat, but I couldn’t help it. I pointed at my chest with a shaking finger.

“But did I die?” I asked.

Killie blinked, then blinked again before she heaved herself up on her legs and walked toward the bedroom. I gave a sigh, then followed her into the lilac bedroom. That entire endeavor made me lose a chunk of sanity, but I mentally chose to wear my nightgown. My sanity was as much a currency as anything else in this game. It was terrifying what I did. I could have lost it all, but I didn’t. I made it back, and tomorrow I’d be at seventy-five percent sanity. The kitchen would be ready to paint tomorrow morning. I still doubted I would do anything so reckless again, but maybe… if I really needed to….

Killie shot me another look as though she could read my thoughts.

“You still love me,” I mumbled.

Killie responded by rubbing her back across my legs as she always did before jumping onto the bed. Killie had her own bed in the corner, but she took it as more of a suggestion. I collapsed on the bed as Killie snuggled up to me as I forced the game to let me sleep.