The house lay silent, except for the occasional crack of the wood cooling in the frigid night wind. Icid tried to do the creepy spider stalk, but more she thought about it, the less she became capable of doing so. After a while, she gave up and returned to her usual scuttle while moving extra slow to reduce the sound.

The hall was lavishly decorated with paintings, carpets, dressers and chandeliers. It was clear that the people who lived here were very well off and liked to display their wealth. She tried a couple of doors and found that most of them had, not unexpectedly, no lock at all. More bedrooms came by, some belonging to children, others likely for guests.

For a little while she expected a bathroom next. But then she recalled that this world had no plumbing and no one was going to carry a bath´s worth of water up four flights of stairs. Then, at the end of the hall, she finally met a heavy closed door with an ornate lock. She took out the key they had found and started moving closer.

When she was about to insert the key a faint prickling sensation ran through her arm. Looking closely, faint carvings on the door seemed to shimmer.

“Magic?”

Icid halted, the door was engraved with something. This simulated world features magic, so she deduced it was likely some kind of spell. The question was what kind.

An alarm would be bad, but in that case, she would likely have triggered it already. Maybe it was something that protected against lockpicking? She felt excitement run through her as she eyed the carved runes.

“Magically protected doors, this is starting to become a proper RPG all of a sudden.”

She put the key into the lock and with a stratifying tick it started to emit a faint glow.

“No magic will help you if you leave your reserve key lying around, I guess. Although this outcome is almost kind of boring.”

Icid turned the key and the door opened smoothly. Inside was a small windowless study. Stacks of thick brownish papers filled the bookcases the lined the walls. Quills, ink stones, carbon powder, writing candles, abacuses, and reading loops lay scattered on the desks.

She made her way inside and closed the door behind her. Her eyes immediately fell on a set of out of place objects. Bulging leather pouches and a collection of gorgeous rings. She lifted one of the bags, the shape of coins was unmistakable.

Her lips formed into a greedy smile, she had no clue how much money this was, but it was certainly not little. After a life of nightmarish poverty, the prospect of literal sacks of money made her wobble on her legs. With frantic excitement, she stuffed the pouches into her bag and moved over to the rings.

There were at least a dozen, all exactly the same. She picked one up and studied the design. It was gold, set with a murky blue crystal held in place by dragon’s maws. The craftsmanship was astounding and the smoky crystal seemed to swirl in the light of her lamp.

A bit tacky for Icid’s taste, but she wouldn’t mind wearing one if it made her able to shoot fireballs, or something like that.

Creaaak- the sound of a creaky stair or loose plank rang through the hall.

Icid snapped alert, listening with her full attention. She heard a stumble, closer this time. Looking around in panic, she made for the wall while putting out her lamp.

Breathe in… breathe out, breathe in... breathe out.

She closed her eyes as she pulled herself upwards, letting instinct move her forward. The room was high, and the ceiling lay deep into the all devouring darkness. After a while, her front legs hit the ceiling and hesitantly latched on.

Set by step she angled herself upside down. She expected that weird heavy headed feeling you get when your head is lower than your body, but it never came. When she opened her eyes everything was pitch black, but gravity told her that she certainly was on the ceiling.

Then she waited, alone, in complete silence.

She attempted to listen for more steps, but the house had become completely quiet. As time passed strange comfort set over her, causing her heart to throb even slower. The blankets around her felt warm and cosy and she had to work to suppress a yawn.

Had she imagined the sounds? Had it been Rowan moving around to the other rooms? That would seem uncharacteristically clumsy for her.

Should she go check?

She pulled her blankets a little bit closer, feeling the warmth around her. Maybe she should wait just a little bit-

Loud tapping noises rang through the room, bringing her back to reality. A burned smell seemed to fill the study and the splintering of wood could be heard. With a sizzling flash and a sea of sparks, the door’s lock seemed to melt through in an instant. Releasing a thick cloud of smoke.

Icid felt panic build as she watched the events unfurl. Her little upside-down hiding spot suddenly felt quite comical. When put up against people who could liquefy locks. She clasped the ring she still had in her hand tight as she desperately tried to control her breathing.

The door opened and a hooded man stepped inside. He was burly and heavily armed. Multiple knives and a sword could were on his person and his heavy musculature was visible through his multiple layers of clothes. With a flick of his hand, he ignited all the oil lamps, causing the room to flood with an unpleasant intensity of light.

Icid could see herself shake in panic. He was so close that if she stretched her arms she might be able to touch his hood. He looked around, left, right, down… and moved to the desk. An odd quote seemed to float to the top of her memories.

Game design rule 1, players never look up.

She did not remember where it came from, nor did she know if it was applicable to real life. But as it relieved her panic ever so slightly, she was happy to believe whatever it told her.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The invader leaned over the table to inspect the rings.

“Look at that! This is a goldmine, how did he manage to get hold of this many?”

The hooded man excitedly took out a small pouch and started moving the rings inside. As he worked a glimpse of movement Icid’s eye. A woman with long black hair leisurely strolled into the office. Even hanging upside down in a corner Icid could tell she was an absolute beauty.

Not only was she one of the few actual fully fledged humans she had seen. Everyone normal looked significantly more elegant if you lived between goats and spiders for a month. But she also featured of unblemished skin, deep emerald eyes and nearly unrivalled curves.

She moved with a supple ease and seemed to produce no sound whatsoever. Within moments she had closed the distance and her body was inches away from the man’s back. Icid eyes followed her as if transfixed, carried on the ocean of waving black.

Suddenly time seemed to slow down to a crawl as a horrifying wet ripping sound erupted from the man’s throat. Icid watched paralyzed as the man attempted to gasp for air, but only produced a gurgling choke. Red flowed, oozed, bubbled and spilled out in unsustainable quantities. Moments later the end of a long knife erupted unceremoniously from the other side.

Icid wanted to scream, to run, to help, to hide, to look away, to do anything, but her mind refused to move. It was as if no true comprehension formed, only shards of disparate facts floating in the nothing. The man twitched and convulsed as the blood flooded into his lungs, his eyes rolling unseeing in all directions.

With a second nightmarish rip, the blade exited from the front. A flood of thick red splashed on the table as his throat tore completely open. After a final twitch, his head slid backwards and with a loud crack doubled over against his back.

It was as if Icid lights had gone out, her mind seemed devoid of anything. She stared at the red-tinted nothing before her. Things lay topped in great heaps just beyond the edges of reality.

Dreams, very old dreams.

Dreams of a happy family.

Dreams of a good career.

Dreams of friends and lovers.

Dreams of riches and luxury.

Dreams of loyalty and respect.

How long had it been since she last had dreamed like that…

After a while, it seemed better to just stop thinking, only concern herself with right now. No pain of the past, no fear of the future. It is easier that way, far less torturous.

There were other heaps too, closer but still at least an impossibility away.

Heaps of hatred and revenge.

No happy ending, no progress, just bloodlust. She desired to make them pay, her mother, her father, her many bullies, and the countless others who wronged her. But she had never tried. She always saw nothing but failure in herself.

No matter how wretched people they were, they all had seemed so much more blessed. Blessed with good looks, high grades, money, talent, allies…

How could she even hope bite at their ankles? So she sat, telling herself she was the good girl. That must be the reason why she could not hurt them, she was just too nice. The ugly duckling with a heart of solid gold.

Boff- somewhere a body fell lifelessly on a desk. The edges of reality shook, drawing ever closer. What would they eat next, what was there even left to give?

Let it take what it wants, all of it.

There is nothing worth protecting here…

As she turned a set of beady half-closed eyes stared. Black lumps of coal from where not a slither of light could escape.

A goat, a goat on top of another small pile. Somewhere close, inside reality, still hers. Good memories, video games, a small haven in the sea of chaos. It did not solve problems, nor did it pay rent, but it was comfort nonetheless.

There was hope there somewhere, unrealistic hope, but there it was. Hope of heroes, princes on white horses and adventures to the lands where be dragons.

And it hurt, it hurt so bad.

This hope was tainted with spiders, desert wastelands and crazy murderers.

Let it take it all.

Push it away, so far out of reach until there is hope no more. Then the pain should stop, surely it will stop…

She once more looked into the jet black eyes. They stared back, drilling inside her, seemingly seeing everything. The hatred, the fear, the weakness, all things disgusting about her.

“Why did you even take me along?! You knew I was a worthless person, why did you even let me close?! Why, why, w-why…”

The goat spoke no words, it did not need to. It knew the answers, and it knew she knew the answers too. Even if she refused to see them.

Icid stumbled forward, to the fallen heap.

Countless dragons lay defeated, treasure piled into the heavens. She walked over floors of god tier weapons and climbed mountains of max level characters. Armies of knights bowed to her feet and jewelled crowns stacked on top of her head. Bards sang her praises and countless companions vowed their eternal friendship.

Deeper, deeper, there sat the goat, on a mountain of corpses.

All whom she ever loathed, dead at its feet.

Her father, her mother, her bullies, everyone…

…

Then something inside Icid broke.

Snapping straight in half, irreversibly damaged. She crawled, dug and pulled, toppling the rising memories on top of her. Within the nothing drummed a rhythm, pounding like a heartbeat. An ancient powerful beat, a song without a melody.

Numbers flowed, tables formed, spreadsheets ever stretching and flowcharts reaching into infinity. Logic, cold emotionless logic, eating the corpses, devouring them, leaving nothing but stats and numbers. War, conflict and hate flowed into the sound. Anger, the desire to hurt and take from others given form.

Tens of thousands of quests branched in ever flowing lines, weaving infinitely detailed spectral flowers. Loot tables, stat sheets, spawn rates, world maps, movement patterns…

Facts immutable, logic infallible, hers to control, nothing to fear.

Icid opened her eyes. A thief lay dead, backstab, critical damage. The assassin moved, prying the bag of rings out of his hand. Those had been both the invader’s objectives, the rings. She and Rowan had been nothing but incidental rats.

She closed her fingers around the ring she still held, hiding it inside her palm. A token of clear importance, the key item to drag the heroes into conflict. Their path into whatever was being fought over. Clockwork whirled inside her head, comparing, observing.

Black hair flowed as the assassin turned, gracious as the wind, soundless as the night. A nemesis unbeatable, levels exceeding Icid’s manifold, the supposed to lose fight. The enemy would look at the rat. Just the slightest hint that she saw all, narrative tradition dictated she would.

The deep emeralds flashed, for an instant, to the dark ceiling. Their eyes met.

Icid could feel her body freeze, instinct locking her in place. A pure rush of adrenaline hit her. Fear, primal fear, a fear of death. As she looked into the venomous green eyes, she could feel herself smile. That woman was everything she loathed. A perfect representation of all the bullies she had ever met. Eyes that did not even consider her people, beauty beyond her reach and overwhelming authority. Every fibre of this person Icid would loathe, she could feel it.

So predictable…

Somehow she could see the future unfold before her with crystal clarity. They might be rats, but they were convenient to the assassin.

Scapegoats.

A robbery and a murder, three parties would be out for blood. The owner of the house had been gathering something dangerous enough to warrant this level of attention. He likely did not work alone and he and his compatriots were going to want their stuff back. The authorities would be informed of a robbery. A robbery of one of the richest citizens around. They were not going this one slip easily. Their reputation would be at stake.

And then the thief lay dead, no doubt part of a larger band. He has not even seen his attacker, but he did not seem like the person who was going to take a loss like that lying down. All the assassin had to do was to notify the police that a goat and a spider had been climbing up the wall. The information would spread itself from there.

Simple but effective.

Icid smile widened, night raids, nail-biting boss fights, dangerous chases and narrow escapes. Let it come, let it all come. Grind those levels, farm those items and complete those quests…

The difficulty had been set to maximum, they could afford no more mistakes, every advantage was essential. Eye contact broke, and the assassin strolled out of the room.

“He hehheee… I will take it all, just you wait, you black haired sockpuppet.”

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Skill gained, [All Consuming Song].