Bona Fide stumbled out of the cookie-cutter suburban house, hands shaking. He turned the hose on, rinsing the blood off of his arms and onto the pristine lawn. Luckily it was nighttime, otherwise he would have been quite the spectacle.
Soap, he needed soap. And this knife, what should he do with it?
He hadn’t meant to do anything. He assured himself of this fact repeatedly. He had just wanted to talk, but they wouldn’t listen to him. Behind him, in the living room of the house, lay the bodies of his lover and their spouse, whom he had not known existed.
He looked around frantically. Had anyone seen him?
A figure stood under the streetlight, staring at him through two red circles. They wore a long red coat, and their mask smiled at him tauntingly. Behind the mask was a mop of orange hair. He squinted. Was this a woman? A cleft of the waist did seem feminine in nature, and the shoulders were slender rather than broad.
The figure walked out of the light towards him. “Bona Fide,” she greeted, voice harsh and staticky.
He held a pair of blue glasses up to his eyes. The text “Lvl 34 - Support - Hero Arbiter” floated above her head. He scanned the area discerningly—support classes were rarely solo acts.
“I’ve been tracking you this last week for embezzlement,” said Hero Arbiter, “but I didn’t realize that you were the murdering type. Sorry for the intrusion, but I can’t let that slide.”
He felt in his mind for his unique skill, keeping it in his focus. “I haven’t done any of the things that you accuse me of.”
Hero Arbiter was silent for a moment. Bona Fide was familiar with the confusion that his unique skill caused. He could admit that it brought him some satisfaction to see her stern composure waver.
“I may have made a mistake,” said Hero Arbiter. “But I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
She disappeared in a blink, leaving Bona Fide to clean up the miserable scene. He really hadn’t meant to kill the two. Yes, he assured himself, skill still in focus. It was just an accident.
----------------------------------------
Misery watched as his partner extracted an entire soda through a straw, before hucking it furiously into a trash can in the alley below them. The can fell over, and its contents spilled onto the ground.
Harbiter huffed and jumped into the alley. She bent over and began scraping the trash back into the can with its lid. Misery followed her and chuckled. “What’s got you all riled up?”
“Someone’s playing mind games with me,” she growled.
“Drop him like a rock, Harbs. Ain’t no dick worth—”
“A hero.” Harbiter slammed the metal lid onto the can.
“That tracks.” Misery grinned. “I bet you live alone in a forest surrounded by cute animals. A veritable princess.”
“Har.” She pulled a notebook from her inventory and pushed it into his hands.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Evidence. I have mountains and mountains of evidence against Bona Fide. Embezzlement, bribery, multiple accounts of murder. By all means I should have killed him already, but every time I confront him he somehow convinces me of his innocence.”
“You want me to dice the sucker up?” asked Misery.
“Not until I know without a doubt that he’s guilty.”
Misery eyed the chicken scratch that covered every inch of the notebook page. “He looks guilty to me.”
“By the way,” said Harbiter. “I know you killed Justice Fist.”
“You partner with a hero killer, he kills heroes. I do recall you saying that I could have my fun with him.”
“Why?” she asked. She took her notebook back and put it into her inventory, pushing it through the chest of her red coat as if the surface was liquid. The coat was sturdy, with a pronounced collar. Her chest was unsolvable-y flat, but the skirt of the garment did some work to add some femininity to her appearance. And that deep dark red—she looked like a proper villain now.
Harbiter looked at him expectantly.
“Why what?” he asked.
“Why do you kill heroes?”
Misery placed his hands on the back of his head, raising his elbows into the air. “That’s hard to explain. In short you could say it’s a family curse. In shorter: I enjoy it.”
“You have a family?”
“Did you think I just spawned in like a monster?” Misery clawed the air and gave her a wicked look.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Something like that.” Harbiter touched his shoulder, and the two teleported to a lush and shaded blue-scape. The Cerulean Forest Dungeon.
“What’s your end goal?” she asked. She pulled a lengthy, blade-ended spear from her chest, as if she were a magic hat.
“Is this an interrogation?” he replied, amused. He pulled out his own weapon, a simple machete that he had picked up purely for monster fighting. He made sure to maintain a well-stocked inventory when he was with Harbs, as he could never be sure where she would whisk him next. Unfortunately this meant the stick collection had to go.
“I need to know more about the man I’m partnered with,” she answered.
Misery joined her as she attacked some low level monsters. They didn’t need to use skills, a couple kicks and stabs was enough to fell the ghoul-blins and spiders. Harbiter insisted that they raise their levels, even if it required periodically grinding in the dungeons. They switched between easy and hard monsters to prevent exhaustion; today was an easy day.
Misery pondered. What was his end goal? “Maybe I’ll kill a few top heroes, then get murdered in a dramatic act of revenge, departing the world in a blaze of spells and glory,” he decided.
“That’s depressing,” said Harbiter.
“Well what’s your endgame then, eh Harbs?”
“Not all that different,” she admitted. “As long as Liberty Warrior ends up dead, I’d call my run a success.”
“I thought you only killed baddies.”
“That bastard is the worst of them all.” Harbiter slammed a ghoul into the ground with her foot. It poofed into smoke, as all dungeon monsters did upon death.
“You won’t be able to kill the number one hero alone,” said Misery. “Not as a support class.”
“I know.” Harbiter swept the point of her spear at a large spider, sending a leg flying. The appendage curled up on the ground, before turning into smoke. The spider screeched and rushed her, but she kept to a distance.
Dungeon monsters always chose violence, even when mortally wounded. Unlike his tedium-loving companion, Misery found no joy in fighting the unintelligent creatures. Harbiter finished the arachnid off with a spear through the face, then briefly glowed, indicating a level up.
“What level was that?”
“Thirty seven.”
“Jeepers, I gotta up my game.” Misery was still on the cusp between 74 and 75. Killing these weak monsters gave him virtually no EXP. “I’m gonna head to a higher level area. Don’t be leavin’ without me.”
“Sure.”
Misery passed a village of goblins. He had been thoroughly and passionately warned by Harbiter not to hurt any, so he just whistled a tune and walked past the small wooden structures.
He continued his grinding alone, killing stone golems and oversized bats in a rocky area. Gray toads sat among the boulders, large green crystals jutting out of their backs. They watched him with their enormous rainbow eyes and occasionally made deep croaks that shook the ground. He swore he saw one snap up a bat with their tongue from the corner of his eye.
It was somewhat meditative, thinking his thoughts, killing dumb monsters, and thinking some more. He could see how some people got caught up in it, even if it was boring as hell.
Voices approached. Misery leapt behind the smooth, thick trunk of a tree. He peered through bushes at the new arrivals, pulling out a simple monocle through which he scanned their nametags. There were three of them:
> Lvl 34 - Ranger - Astral Arrow
>
> Lvl 42 - Mage - Spoofus
>
> Lvl 57 - Support - Bona Fide
He blinked. Bona Fide? Wasn’t that the hero Harbs had been griping about? He slipped the lens back into his pocket and brought ‘Nucleus’ into focus. Surely he could take them all on. He could already feel the anticipatory dopamine kicking in. Kill! Kill! Kill!
Evidence.
He pushed the spell away, and his euphoria faded into bitter disappointment. Gee, he was really demonstrating some self control here. Harbs had better be oodles of grateful.
Misery followed the group, darting quietly from tree to tree.
The group of heroes slayed a few monsters as they passed through the clearing, leaving a trail of smoke.
“Wow,” said Doofus, or whatever the mage’s name was. “These giant ass toads are covered in crystals. Ka-ching!”
Ho! If they wanted to die to a passive mob, that would make his life a whole lot easier.
“Leave them be. They’re traps,” said the ranger. He was a plain looking man, with a plain looking bow and a simple green hunting tunic. Was he intentionally trying to look generic? Zero points for style.
“You’re no fun, Tim,” said Doofus. Misery agreed.
“Dungeons aren’t for fun,” replied Jim. “I lost my last crew to their own greed. Stay on track.”
Doofus looked to Bona Fide as if seeking backup.
Bonny only shrugged. “You can loot the frogs on the way back. For now, let’s head to the caves. That’s where the real prize is.”
Misery followed them to a cave entrance—a crack in the side of a rocky mound. He loitered for a bit and in the meantime sent Harbiter some texts.
> Misery: Bonny in cave, group of three
>
> Misery: Following them in
He hummed. It felt so clinical. The messages needed a bit of pizazz.
> Misery: Bonny looking tasty, might have a little bite
He frowned, just as he hit send. Did that sound sexual? He wasn’t meant to be that kind of villain. A few long seconds later, Harbiter responded.
> Harbs: Where are you?
>
> Harbs: We’re in a dungeon there’s a million caves.
>
> Misery: idk gtg before I lose them
>
> Harbs: Whereareyou??
That seemed like a good place to end the conversation. He grinned. The way she texted that last line seemed almost cu—he caught himself before the thought could complete. Girls ain’t cute they’re mean and scary not to mention heaps of hairy, he recited to himself. Probably shouldn’t have partnered with one then, idiot. Not that he had known when he extended the offer.
Misery shook away his thoughts like a husky shaking mud into the foyer. Not his problem—at least not for now.
He set his phone to audio recording, slid it into his pocket, and entered the cave.