Statement: What is the point of a card with words on it? Why track the items they did? It’s an underlying question that threatens to turn the entire world into a death game. Every single person, who’d been human, had one of these cards. Yet, the store owners also used them.

Much like the line, our need for money continued. We are provided funds for killing monsters, plus we get colored orbs. It is a game, of sorts. One where failure results in death. The stakes of life, or a chance at a lifetime as the stewardesses had said, didn’t make it less of a contest. Who then, are we playing against? Is it this “Secret King”? Or is it less sinister, with the enemies being each other?

We, being me, hobbled to a nearby house. It didn’t matter which one, they were all available. Little Shade picked a lock and let us into the new place. The inside was relatively untouched, unlike all the houses we’d be in with broken doors. Those places had been picked over by mini-orcs but they apparently had a hard time with doors.

I had a harder time walking. Months of practice with the crutches helped me know how much I could take and, at the moment, that wasn’t a lot. My body kept mending, starting with my eyesight, then the busted leg. By the time I reached a bed, I could see, walk better, and happily eat an entire cow.

Healing used energy and left me wiped. I couldn’t pin an exact ratio but it would help me to test it out, in the far, far, future. Maybe it would be a next week task.

Little Shade herded both elves into another room and spoke to them in quiet tones that I couldn’t understand. The words flowed weird and connected in a long stream that reminded me of the foreign script put into books. I lay on an untouched bed and smelled the leftover scent of a person who never returned home. The thought bothered me, but not enough to get up.

I pulled the card from my pocket. Despite the fight, acid, explosions and general destruction of the last day, the card remained pristine and untouched. It had over one thousand dollars on it, though the money symbol was a bit strange. I’d earned less than that during the initial line and came away with a powerful spell book.

A dozen thoughts fluttered through and each one became harder to grasp. I remembered the taste of steak and wondered if there were any functional barbecues that had survived the end of the world.

The door creaked open and I worked to rouse myself. Heavy eyelids prevented me from waking completely. A dark blob in the doorway hinted at Little Shade’s presence.

“You awake, brown man?” Her sharp voice shook me.

“Correct,” I mumbled. Idly, I remembered peeling away this form would speed my healing. It took too much effort to lift myself, plus the mild buzz of arousal helped distract me from the terrible reality of being half broken.

“You’ll be okay, yah?”

“Correct.”

“Then you’ll be able to help me soon?”

I hummed and focused on the ceiling light. It was strange how much I missed electricity. The fact that those creatures had somehow altered such basic physics was also downright perplexing. Lightning still flashed some nights, which meant that channeling it through copper wires should have been feasible.

Little Shade was talking and I hadn’t been paying attention. I tuned in and heard, “You go in there, find Midge the Tattletale. She’s tied to that table by a gold chain. Just erase the markings or break the chain. Either one will be enough and Midge will be free.”

The small fantasy cartoon character must be Midge. It made sense, given that she had known all about my ability with a glance. The faerie, or whatever, had known more about me than I did even after days of experimenting.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Midge is harmless on her own. She’s like a babbling Tinkerbell, she is. We need her though. She knows too many secrets and we ain’t leavin’ that kind of knowledge in Coach Big Balls’s hands.”

It was apparent that Little Shade wouldn’t leave me alone until we hashed out this mission of hers.

“Why don’t you go in there?”

“Can’t. Ordered not to, I am.”

Her word choice left a lot to be desired. I assumed she meant the slavery issue somehow included certain rules, such as not stealing or breaking free Coach Big Balls’s, or Madison’s belongings. It was one way to stay in charge.

I turned to one side and stared at her through half closed eyes. They kept falling shut while the blob of darkness almost looked bashful. From what I recalled of Greek history, fighting mythological beings was a feat worthy of the Gods’s attention. I wanted at least a day’s rest before being hounded.

“So I can’t help you sneak into the camp. Not like I have been. You’ll be utterly alone. But, here’s the kicker, Midge will trade money, like what we just earned, for secrets. The kind we need to survive. Yah? Init a good deal?”

That word was so freaking important to everyone. I didn’t entirely understand how or why the idea of secrets played into this world. Nearly every “secret” spouted so far felt more like common sense. Save my money, don’t tell people my full name, don’t share my secrets.

My nephew had once told me, loudly, in my ear, a secret. It was a stupid one, involving a toy he’d hidden inside the back of his closest. It mattered to him, it didn’t matter to me. The thought of him, and the rest of my family, made me sour.

“Not your thing? Secrets are as a good as gold, they are. Once found a secret stash, that’s how I got my hat. Yah? A woman sold them clones a small treasure she did. She told ‘em that her favorite hat was lost under her bed. Them stewardesses acted like it was a verbal orgasm, falling over each other. ”

Little Shade stepped close and tipped the wide brim down.

“She didn’t make it. A lot of people threw her into one of the exits, they did. So I knew where she’d lived. A posh lady, found her hat, lifted it for myself.” Little Shade spread her hands wide past the shroud of darkness and spun. “See? Secrets lead to treasures, that they do. And Midge the Tattletale knows a grip of them.”

She wouldn’t leave me alone to rest. It aggravated me. I grunted, pulled covers over myself and said, “We can talk about it after I heal.”

I fumbled for a blanket’s edge with my missing hand and felt my heart skip at the sight. The stump had grown a bit longer, a clear sign of healing, that or I was turning into some monster. I used the other arm to pull the cover tight and clutched my broken limb close.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“I’ll heal from this. I need time,” I whispered.

Sleep did not come easily. The elves and Little Shade continued talking in their funny language. I wanted to ask how she’d learned it, but that was probably a “secret” too.

It took two days to recreate a limb. Little Shade disappeared frequently, leaving me with two elves who refused to talk in my presence. My body shut down frequently and I knew someone who cared was around because food would appear in a pile next to me. They were mostly cans of cold dollar pastas in questionable sauce. The food was delicious.

When awake, I’d contemplate the terrible situation and wonder if there was a secret that would solve it all. I couldn’t see how, but something messy had started this nonsense. There were no obvious reasons why a bunch of women came out of nowhere to kidnap us. At the end of two days I had answers and a bunch of unsubstantiated theories.

I woke up on the second day and stared at two unmarred hands without comprehension. My fingers waved slowly while my eyes watered from muddled happiness. The act of passing time hadn’t been easy. I’d spent most of it in bed, with only the occasional awkward trip to the bathroom, where at least plumbing still functioned.

There were notes on the nightstand. They made no sense and weren’t in English, like every other written word in this entire place. I scanned the page multiple times and turned it over. There was a picture on the back that grew in detail as I watched.

Allegra’s face formed. At least, I was fairly sure the art belonged to her. The lines were fine and shading intense. She’d had a power that let her perform magic using pencils and maybe Allegra could send messages.

There were no words on the back. Her face slowly grew smaller and excess pencil lead swam across the page’s back to form a new picture. I wiggled my nose and cupped a hand over my face. It’d been four days, maybe, since we’d handled the dungeon together. I knew Little Shade better than Allegra.

The picture shifted to a question mark that danced on the page. It swam to a map of our neighborhood and a few suns and moons. I took that to mean they were going to be a couple blocks away at sunrise a few days later. It was that or they were telling me the city would be crushed by a series of fireballs and meteors.

The different pictures repeated a few times. I wasn’t sure how to signal back to her, or if Allegra could even see me. She must have been able to or there wouldn’t be a message on the one piece of paper I happened to pick up.

I set it down and went to the bathroom. When I returned, the elves held the piece of paper. They ignored me and passed it back and forth, turning the object over in search of hidden meanings. One flipped it, tilted their head and wiggled long ears at whatever they saw.

“It’s a message for me,” I said slowly.

They lifted their heads to stare at me and blinked. Neither one spoke.

“Did Little Shade write the front?”

They said nothing.

I sighed and frowned. Expecting a response had been stupid of me. They went back to the paper, searching for a secret that didn’t exist.

There were some supplies around the room, but not much. The one benefit to all these abandoned houses was a long list of kitchen knives. Searching for guns was pointless, but I did find an empty jar and loaded it up with supplies from a drawer in the laundry room. This time I packed a perfume bottle as well.

Post Note: Paying attention in chemistry might have helped me learn how to combine products under the sink into something useful. I’m hoping to figure out how to read this strange script one day and search for answers in a library—but not the one Coach Madison staked out.

Little Shade didn’t show up. I couldn’t tell exactly how much time passed, but eventually decided to go about freeing Midge on my own. If she could sell secrets that led to magical items, it would be worth investigating. Worst case scenario, the people would see me, and hopefully still give me some space after killing the hydra.

“I’ll be back,” I told the elves.

They ignored me. I shook my head and realized they could probably take care of themselves to an extent. That room we’d found them in had been lived in for days and Little Shade would be back with food eventually. She cared about their welfare.

I prayed she did. There were food supplies in the house that would tide them over for a few days. By then, I should be done with Midge, or dead from my jailbreak attempt going horribly wrong. The clothes in this person’s house hung loosely. They must have been a bigger person.

The streets were disturbingly empty. I took a few wrong turns but eventually honed in on the red housing. My hand stayed in the spell book, ready to launch the exploding spell at enemies. None showed up. Considering the sheer number that had died to the hydra, it made sense that the streets were empty.

I wandered into the sea of red painted houses. I peeked into one of the windows and felt startled at what lay inside. These houses were full of scrounged goods and stored items. Piles of boxes contained bars of soap, toiletries, baby diapers, and a literal ton of goods. And that was only what I could see from the window.

Each house nearby was much the same. It was amazing. Gathering this from our town must have taken a lot of work and time. There were heavy bars on the doors and window. Not even a mini-orc could get into these houses, maybe.

Boards lay between the roofs of some buildings, making shitty walkways. I eyed them while slowly stepping forward.

“Hey!” someone shouted.

I’d become so used to be ignored that I ignored the man yelling and searched for mini-orcs instead.

“Hey, you! Who are you?”

The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

“Don’t move,” someone much closer said.

I froze and shifted my eyes to the side. A man with a crossbow was right next to me. The bolt aimed at my head. My first reaction wasn’t fear or a sudden retreat, instead I wondered if it were possible to heal from an arrow to the head.

“Who are you?” another man said. I stayed locked on the crossbow wielder. He was unshaven and dirty. He sniffed and waved the weapon at me.

“Well?” the other person said.

Theo, complete with his half a highly tailored business suit, walked my way with a sword pointing out. His clothes were much cleaner than the other man’s.

The crossbow man shuffled to one side, so that we weren’t all standing in a line. “I say we shoot first then let God sort him out.”

“You know the rules. Anything with a brain gets brought to the doctor for processing.”

There, on Theo’s neck, was a black band, or tattoo. It was in the same long squiggly lines that letters turned into. Now that I knew what to look for the signs were more obvious. Little Shade had been telling the truth.

The other man had a tattoo as well, half hidden under the scraggly beard.

There were two questions that came to mind.

1. Why could they see me, but monsters couldn’t?

2. Why hadn’t I taken off the brown-skinned form so they’d recognize Lance?

“Nod if you can understand me,” Theo said.

I nodded.

“Who are you?”

My monster murdering skills weren’t high enough to slap away the crossbow and knife them. They weren’t monsters or mini-orcs. They weren’t even transformed humans like the nymph woman and her husband. The only small mercy was their gender. Putting a woman in front of me would have resulted in a whole host of lewd thoughts.

I knew from prior experience that lying was impossible, but there were no rules that prevented me from choosing not to respond. Being silent would be rude so I simply said, “That is a secret.”

Theo’s face pitched tightly. “Is it now?”

“Correct.”

“Have it your way then. Turn around, or my friend will put a bolt in your head.”

Theo spoke more to me now, when I wore a stranger’s skin, than he ever had to “Lance.”

I laughed quietly and turned slowly. They were going to tie me up and take me to the very base I’d been walking toward.

Maybe, if I was really lucky, they’d bring me to this person enslaving people and I could shove an explosive rune down their throat. The idea made me smile and laugh harder. My mirth died as it occurred to me that I might be turned into a slave as well.

One of the two hit me, causing my leg to buckle. I fell to the side and lost my backpack. My hand braced against the ground. Red energy glowed on splayed fingertips. I adjusted my fingertips and flung the forming spell toward my backpack.

The spell glommed on. Neither man noticed the forming rune and its glowing points. I curled into a tight ball. The crossbow carrier stood above me, pointing a potentially problematic projectile in my direction.

The jar exploded. A yell and thwack of noise occurred at the same time. Sharp pressure jolted through my arm. I grit my teeth, got up and bolted past Theo’s rocking form. He clutched his face, and I almost felt guilty.

But most of me felt amused. I resumed chuckling. It was uncontrollable, a reaction to the absurd madness of this new world and the choices I continued to carry out. Setting off a bomb next to me wasn’t on the bucket list. If that wasn’t on the list, being enslaved with a tattoo would never register at all.

“Breach!” Theo yelled. “Intruder at the stockpiles!”

The amused noises were giving me away. I clamped my hands over my mouth, stumbled through the buildings and found a corner to huddle in. Coach Madison’s people would soon be swarming this area.

I heard a faint voice that could have come from miles away. It said, “Treat?”