I started my Sunday like everyone should: at 11 A.M., with a hangover, and unable to remember the night before. Usually I’d scroll on my phone for, like, an hour, but my phone couldn’t get any internet, so I rolled out of bed fairly early. I threw on a tie-dye sweater and pushed my hair back with an elastic headband, and made my way to the living room.

My roommate Shelby was sitting on the couch watching Law & Order, protein shake in one hand, joint in the other, two microwave breakfast burritos waiting in front of him.

“‘Sup Chris, want a hit?” He asked.

“Fuck yeah, dude,” I said, taking the joint and sitting next to him, “what’s on?”

“Some lady who works with kids got killed. It’s the one where she’s sleeping with the serial killer.” He took the opportunity to take a bite from one of his burritos.

“Does she know he’s a serial killer? Is she into it?” I asked, passing the joint back.

“Nah, she’s not like that.”

“Damn, rest in peace, lady.” I said.

“Rest in peace,” he echoed.

After we finished smoking, I got up to pour myself cereal.

“Hey, you got any service?” I asked.

“Like, a waiter?” He asked.

“What? No, like, your phone.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, Law & Order is the only thing I’ve got downloaded on the Xbox, we don’t have any signal either.”

“Weird.” I said, and sniffed the milk. It was only a little sour, so I poured it in.

“Yeah…” He said.

I shrugged and sat back down. We watched Law & Order for a while, but something started to feel off.

“Hey, Shelby, what time is it?”

“Uhhh,” he said, and checked his phone, “like, eleven-thirty… oh shit.”

“Oh shit.” I confirmed. Evan, our other roommate and Shelby’s best friend, never missed the 11:30 baseball segment on our local sports network. He didn’t give a shit about the sport, but he was in love with one of the analysts, Jessica Baylor. Even with the signal out, he would have found a way. It’s kinda pathetic, but we love him anyway.

“Is he in his room?” Shelby suggested. We checked. Nope.

“Maybe he’s somewhere with a, uh, working TV.” He said.

“Shit.” I said.

“What do you remember from last night?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Uh, it was a Saturday night, so we were at Brogleys.” I said. Brogley’s was our local bar, tiny and kinda sketchy-looking from the outside, but nice and well furnished inside with a little patio area with a fireplace. Our friend Mallory works there and gives us a drink for free.

“Obviously,” Shelby agreed.

“Okay, and Evan was bitching about work, and he went outside to smoke and Endrew went with him and… that’s all I got.” I said.

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“That’s more than me.” He said.

“My man.” I gave him a fist-bump.

“So, is that our first stop? Brogley’s?” He asked.

I shrugged, “you think he won’t just turn up?”

“Are you doing anything better today?” He asked, “the internet’s out.”

“Alright, let me get dressed.” I said.

I threw on some sweatpants and brushed my teeth. Shelby switched out of his pajamas, which was a moisture-wicking shirt and gym shorts, and into his regular attire, which was a different moisture-wicking shirt beneath a red hoodie and gym shorts.

I grabbed Alfredo, my stuffed rainbow trout, and we headed out the door. We live in the sack of a pretty long cul-de-sac near the edge of a small neighborhood in Appleton, Wisconsin, which sucks. We’re at the Chili’s end of the neighborhood, and on the opposite side is Brogley’s. We made it about a block before I got hit in the face with a bright blue bolt of magic.

I spit out a snotty glob of blood and readjusted my headband. I’m pretty sure there was a bit of tooth in there too. My ears rang, drowning out Shelby as he suddenly buckled to his knees and started laughing hysterically. I guess the lady in front of us had said something pretty funny.

Her hand was still outstretched, pointing at Shelby, blue energy cracking at her fingertips. If she wasn't trying to kill me, I’d probably find her cute, I was into green-haired chicks. I just saw red, though. She had a companion, some muscly dude in a brown tunic who was kicking Shelby. He had a mullet and, like, curtain bangs. He reminded me of this guy I went to highschool with, he’d dropped out and enlisted, but I saw him working at Woodman’s after 3 years, wearing one of those shirts about not being afraid to die in battle or whatever. Last I heard he got a DUI.

“What’s your deal, cow?” I asked.

She scoffed and threw more magic at me. Blue light whizzed past my head as I ducked and lunged at her, screaming incoherently. I think I called her and/or her mother a bitch. She shrieked and held her hands out in front of her, palms pressed together like in Dragon Ball, eyes squeezed shut. I collided with a metal rod, and my head got all fuzzy, my muscles spasmed, and I hit the ground.

Tunic turned his attention toward us, and picked me up off of the ground. The lady’s metal rod phased out of existence as she manifested a dark orb in her hands, which slowly glowed orange as she charged it up or something. Tunic held me under the armpits, dangling me off the ground as I uselessly kicked at him.

I glowered at the green-haired chick as she finished charging her spell, enshrouding her hand in a chaotic dark energy, which bursts of orange light lapping out like waves on the sun. She swung her arm at me, seemingly with a lot of effort, but before she could get the spell off Tunic went limp.

“Get down!” Shelby said from behind me. I obeyed, diving forward at the lady’s feet. The spell burned into Tunic’s body, evaporating the knife that Shelby lifted from the sheathe on the man’s belt and used to stab him.

The green-haired chick tried to stomp my hands, but was more focused on hitting Shelby with some magic. I was able to grab her ankle and yank roughly as she hit Shelby with her blue bolt, and bite into her other leg. She screamed and fell down, sending a dagger of her own flying.

I lunged toward the knife, but another bolt knocked me out of the air and to the side. The lady took out a bottle of blue liquid and drank it feverishly as I crawled toward the knife. As my hand wrapped around the blade, she got to her feet and rapidly fired magic bolts into my prone body.

I groaned in pain as her magic bludgeoned my body. I was ready to die. The bolts stopped after three, which was less than I expected. I hazarded a glance at her, and saw that Shelby had her in a chokehold.

“Fucking stab her!” He said, annoyed.

I stumbled to my feet, stabbed her in the stomach and stared at her blankly, not knowing what else to do. She snarled at me, pulled the knife out of her chest, and started chanting. Blood poured from the wound she had reopened.

“What’s she doing?” Shelby shouted. I screamed and punched her in the face, doing nothing to stop her chanting. The knife was starting to glow bright green, which couldn’t have been a good sign. In a last-ditch effort to save my life, my brain tried to access everything I knew about self-defense (acquired from youtube videos and some tv) at once, resulting in me palm-striking and breaking the green-haired chick’s nose, while kinda mumbling, “street smarts, bitch.”

The woman trailed off, and Shelby threw her at me, getting as far away as he g=could from her. I screamed again and pushed her limp body off of me. She hit the ground, and blood started to ooze from her face.

“Is she dead?” He asked.

Level Up!

I didn't have a chance to answer him. A box popped up in my vision, quickly replaced by another one:

User not found. Please wait. Initializing…

“What the f-,” I was cut off, unable to move. My heart raced as I tried to move my muscles to no avail. An agonizing ten seconds passed until I was able to move again. I collapsed to the ground, Shelby stumbled and fell backwards and just started crying.

“What the fuck!” I shouted.

“Is this just what happens when you kill people?” Shelby asked through his tears, “I don’t want to do it again.”