Aya rapidly blinked her eyes, trying to clear the last bit of the black spots in her eyes. She was standing in front of her front door, still wearing her comfy clothing, minus the socks which she had stuffed in her pockets. Slowly, she turned around, gauging whether anything looks out of place. She didn’t have a large studio apartment, roughly 30 m2. She caught a glimpse of her unmade bed on her right side, with a blanket still laying on the floor when she fell out of bed. Her view of the bed was partly obstructed by her clothing closet. The bathroom was situated a meter or so next to her bed with the door closed. So far so good. Nothing weird or missing yet. Maybe I was sleepwalking? She thought hopefully. Directly opposite of her front door was the kitchen, including a window which let most of the light in at the moment. ‘Couldn’t they have done my dishes?’ she muttered as she looked over her kitchen. Last, she turned to the right side of her studio and the one place she splurged on. A large desk with several drawers and, more importantly, a really comfortable gaming chair. Not that she was a gamer, but after spending hours and hours in a chair while reading articles and writing papers, it was nice to not get up as some kind of old woman.

Her eyes widened and her breath stalled for a moment as she looked over her desk. ‘Where is my laptop?!’ she practically screeched. She ran over in the hope the laptop was still in its bag. ‘No no no! I only saved my paper on my desktop! I was almost done with it too!’. She continued to frantically look for her laptop, moving books and papers around in vain. She eventually collapsed into her chair with tears in her eyes. ‘It’s real, isn’t it? I wasn’t dreaming?’ she muttered dejectedly. ‘Status Screen’ she stated with apprehension. When the blue screen popped up in front of her, she closed her eyes in defeat, willing the screen away again. She pulled her feet up, wrapped her arms around her legs and tucked her head between her arms… and she cried. Cried because 39% of humanity died, although that was still too unreal to truly comprehend. Cried because the world as she knew it ceased to exist. Cried because she did not know if her family was still okay. And finally, she cried because she did not know what to expect from this new world.

After a while, she wiped away her tears and blew her nose. She never had been a pretty crier. Drawing in deep breaths, she tried to rally herself. ‘Nothing will change or get done if I just sit here and cry. You might as well break down in the assessment room. Daddy didn’t raise quitters.’. She went over to her bed where her cell phone was supposed to be, but she couldn’t find it either. ‘So, no laptop and no cell phone. Do we still have electricity?’ she asked herself. She flipped on the lights, but nothing happened. Scolding, she checked the refrigerator. No luck either. The food was still cold though. She quickly shut the door so the cold air couldn’t get out. ‘That’s not gonna last more than a few days’ she grumbled.

Next, she tried the water tap. As expected, only a few drops of water came out of the tap. She figured the pump, or whatever maintained the water pressure in the pipes, lost power. Especially since she lived on the sixth floor of the apartment building. Luckily, she had some water bottles stored for emergencies. Sipping some water, she tried her gas stove. Surprisingly, it still worked. So at least I can cook and heat my food, which is a relief. She continued to explore her studio, trying to figure out what still worked and what didn’t. So far, she found a distinct lack of plastic items such as cups and her toothbrush. Even the plastic storage boxes under her bed were gone, her stuff strewn about. ‘At least the content of the boxes didn’t disappear.’ She grumbled. She moved everything from under her bed in the middle of the room. It was mostly stuff she didn’t use very often or only in certain seasons. Her summer clothing, for example, had been neatly packed away until the sun started to shine again.

She surveyed the chaos that was her room from her gaming chair. ‘Great. So. Most stuff is still here. No electricity, running water, and heating. Some plastic items are missing. But that seems to be all so far… I think I need a plan.’. she took some empty paper sheets from her desk before trying to find a pen. ‘Motherfucker. Now I don’t know whether pens are gone for good too or I just lost them all… AGAIN. Bloody things always disappear when I need them.’. In the end, she settled for a pencil. ‘So, a plan. A list. What to do…’. She stared blankly at the paper. ‘One step at the time, Aya.’. She remined herself yet again. She fell silent for a moment before nodding firmly. ‘Okay. Things that need to get done, but not necessarily in that order:

* Make a guess at how long my food and water will last

* Check the situation outside through a window in the hallway, since I have a lovely view of another apartment building from the window in the kitchen

* Check up on the neighbours since it is awfully quiet, though it is a Monday

* Make sure I can protect myself

* Bother the System Assist some more about skills and other stuff

* Get properly dressed

* Update list when necessary.

After she wrote the last item on her to do list, a blue screen popped up, startling Aya.

Skill acquired.

For organising your thoughts on paper and making a to do list, you acquired the skill Organization.

Organization is a passive skill which aids you in organising matters. This skill us currently at level 1.

Aya stared at her new skill for several seconds. ‘Is it just me or does this skill description sounds absolutely useless?’ she wondered. ‘I mean… how does the skill aid me? And in what way exactly? And what does it mean that it’s at level 1?’. With an aggravated sigh, she flicked the message away. ‘Whatever. I’ll just ignore it and continue with my business.’. But before she could, another box popped up.

Ding!

For learning your first skill on your own, you have earned 50 exp. From now on, you will receive a certain amount of exp. for every new skill that you learn. Note that this does not count for skills you receive from classes or from levelling.

‘Huh. Guess I should put learning about skills higher on my to do list than I first anticipated. Although I still don’t really see the use… Maybe I should make a list of questions for the System Assist.’. She grabbed a new sheet, writing things to bug System Assist about on top of the sheet. The preliminary list went as follow:

* What are skills and why do I need them? Is there a ranking involved?

* Who or what is the Council I saw mentioned in one of the messages?

* Why were we reconnected to the System? What happened in the first place?

* What are dungeons?

* What is mana?

* How do I use spells?

She had to scrap a few questions on the list that weren’t that constructive right now, such as why would they do this to us in the first place? She tried not to dwell on it too much, otherwise she would never get out of her chair and do things.

Having made both lists, without noticeable aid from my new skill, she grumbled, Aya figured the first thing she needed to do was to sort out the mess in front of her and collect the things she might find useful in the next few days. She grabbed an apple from the fridge before putting back items like pots, mugs, and summer clothing. Or, in the case of said summer clothing, shoving it back under her bed. Eventually, her room was relatively clean again, with only a small pile of stuff she thought would be useful.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Skill acquired.

For cleaning your room, you acquired the skill cleaning.

Cleaning is a passive skill which aids you in removing stains from surfaces and objects. This skill is currently at level 1. You receive 10 exp.

With a twitching eye, she dismissed the screen. ‘I’m just going to ignore that. Parents around the world would be proud though.’. She resumed looking at the items she felt she could need. She collected her most sturdy clothing, consisting of her ankle high hiking boots, thick socks, normal jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a slightly too large leather jacket, courtesy of a friend who forgot it on a visit and never bothered to pick it up. Must be nice to have so much money that you can leave behind a freaking leather jacket, she thought.

All-in-all, a decent set-up for exploring the unknown and going on an adventure! Or so she tried to convince herself. Nevertheless, she felt it provided some protection, if only for the chilly temperature outside. Afterall, it was barely spring. Including in her useful pile was a Swiss Army knife, matches, candles, a working flashlight (she might have hugged that one a bit too much when she discovered it), a sturdy rucksack, a canteen, a sleeping back, a lighter and a small first aid kit. As for weapons, she had her yet to be tested gun and a combat knife. She had doubts she would ever try to shoot the gun. She liked her fingers too much to simply try it out, not to mention she didn’t want to accidently hit somebody. Nevertheless, she would bring it with her. Better safe than sorry.

However, during the small scavenge hunt and even now, as she was getting dressed and strapping her combat knife to her left thigh and her gun on the right, she was torn between feeling like she was being ridiculous and exaggerating for preparing like this when she was only taking a look at the apartment floor to see if anyone was home. On the other hand, she felt like it wasn’t enough. Those messages did say something about monsters and mutations, but it just didn’t feel real. Nevertheless, she picked up her broomstick to add to her arsenal. Better to be overprepared than underprepared. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the front door and slowly and silently opened it enough for her to peek through. And she found… nothing. Well, nothing unusual. Although the hallway was kind of dark. She grabbed the working flashlight – she still didn’t know why it worked, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth – and peered outside the door again. Yup, nothing interesting, she thought as she shined the light down the hallway. The 20 doors to her left, 10 on each side, were all closed. Same as the 10 doors on the right. She debated for a moment. ‘Shall I go to the light on my left or should I go to the right to the emergency exit, since the elevator won’t work?’. She shuddered. ‘I would NOT want to be stuck in an elevator right now.’. Not that she had a phobia or anything, but she didn’t think her mind could handle the small enclosure.

She decided to go to the right first, since its common knowledge that you should never go into the light! Unless, you know… get stuck under water or in a cave or in a horror movie. She shook her head at her lousy attempt at a joke. Focus brain, focus, she admonished herself. Before she left, she grabbed a keychain, stuffed it in her pocket and debated on closing the door behind her. Eventually, she settled on leaving the room slightly open so she could run away if she encountered anything. Decisions made, she crept along the hallways, sweeping her flashlight from right to left. She felt strangely spooked as she tried to make no sound while walking. Even though her apartment building did a decent job at reducing outside noise and the walls were decently isolated, it was never this quiet. It gave her chills. She stopped in front of the first door on the right side of this floor. Marybeth, a sweet old lady, lived here. She was a bit too religious sometimes, but she still spent some afternoons drinking a cup of tea and eating home-made cookies at her apartment. Because of that, Marybeth had given her a spare key to use in an emergency. Aya figured the end of the world consisted of one.

She silently opened the door while putting her flashlight away. ‘Marybeth?’ she whispered softly. She stopped to listen to any sounds, but she heard nothing. Aya opened the door further, revealing the one-bedroom apartment. She let her gaze wonder around the apartment, before fixating on the sight of two legs sticking out from behind the couch. Aya swallowed nervously. ‘Marybeth?’ she whispered again. ‘Please don’t be dead…’. She slowly walked towards the couch while keeping close to the wall. She froze when she finally saw the body that was attached to the legs. Her brain struggled to take in the scene in front of her, but when it clicked, she promptly lost the content of stomach. Marybeth was most definitely not alive anymore. Something had torn out the old woman’s throat before munch on her shoulder.

While finishing a last heave, Aya suddenly heard a low growl before something jumped from behind the couch and towards her ankles. In a panic, Aya kicked out as hard as she could. She hit the creature right in its face. With a muffled yelp, it flew through the air and collided with a wall behind the couch. Aya gripped the broomstick tightly in both hands while breathing heavily. 10 agonizing seconds went by before Aya heard a whine which was immediately followed by a growl. Around the corner of the couch a… ‘Wait?!’ she blurted out. ‘Fluffy?!’. Fluffy was Marybeth’s yappy Chihuahua. But it didn’t look all that fluffy or cute at the moment. Its fur and snout were coated in blood, and she could have sworn its teeth were bigger and sharper than normal. Or that maybe that’s the fear talking. However, Aya was almost certain that Fluffy had killed Marybeth. ‘She loved you like her own child, you stupid, ankle-biting, overgrown rat!’ she yelled at the dog with tears in her eyes. As Fluffy made another attempt to lunge at Aya’s ankles, she swung the broom right down on its head. With a grief filled yell, she brought the broom down again and again before the dog stopped whimpering and fell silent. Aya dropped the broomstick and staggered back until her back hit the wall. She let herself collapse on the ground and tried to stifle her sobs. Her mind was a mess, flashing between the scene of Marybeth’s dead body, the blood soaked dog and Aya’s killing of said dog. It truly hit her then. Life as she knew it had ceased to exist and only those that paid attention, those that were strong, stood a chance. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her tears anymore and just let herself cry again over the death of her old life and the needless death of Marybeth.

‘How stupid’ Aya muttered to herself after having cried herself empty. ‘To survive the assessment room, only to be killed by your pet Chihuahua. Fucking hell.’. She wiped at her eyes and nose before she got up. She felt strangely numb, yet insanely fragile. But she couldn’t and wouldn’t leave Marybeth like this. She grabbed a comforter from the bedroom and as gentle as she could, rolled Marybeth on it. Luckily, the blood had already dried enough so she wouldn’t get too dirty. She didn’t think she could handle that. With some effort, Aya lifted Marybeth in her arms and walked to the bathroom. She gently laid the old woman in the bathtub. She figured this was the best solution for the situation. She obviously couldn’t call for help or bury her in the middle of Seattle. This way, nobody would stumble upon her body and hopefully, the smell wouldn’t be too bad. She then went on to dispose of Fluffy, but as soon as she touched its body, a message popped up.

Do you wish to loot the slain Fluffy?

Yes/No

Without so much as blinking at this new development, she mentally thought yes. She could feel she had other messages waiting, but she was ignoring those for now. Why this one popped up, but the rest didn’t, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. As soon as she made her choice, a soft white light enveloped Fluffy. When it was gone, the dog’s body vanished and a pink collar was left behind. Shrugging, Aya picked up the collar and walked back to the bathroom. She lay the collar on top of Marybeth and bowed her head. ‘I hope you have found peace, Marybeth. May your God bless your soul.’. With a small sniffle, she got up and went about cleaning the bloodstains and vomit on autopilot. After the carpet was as clean as it was going to get, she went back to her own apartment. She locked the door behind her, shed her clothes and crawled into bed. Even though it was too early to go to bed – it probably wasn’t even dinner time – she was done with this day. Tomorrow she would go back to Marybeth’s apartment to salvage whatever she could at a minimum. But for today, she was simply done.