John slowly became conscious, and the scene was eerily familiar. He was back in Patsy’s boxing ring in the same exact position as he was when he arrived at the scenario. Thankfully, none of the confusion or symptoms of mistaken identity made themselves known. Patsy’s thugs were laughing and joking, and Patsy himself was about to open his mouth to yell at John again. John quickly cut him off. He was pissed. He was angrier than he had ever remembered in his life.

“Shut up Patsy and get down here.” 

          John’s voice was as chilled as the depths of winter. Violent death laced his words, and Patsy quickly forgot whatever he was going to say and hurried down to where he was waiting. At this moment, he wasn’t the young man that Patsy had raised; he was the Ghost. These thoughts tumbled through Patsy’s head as he passed through the swinging door that partitioned off the ring from crowds. John sniffed in annoyance as Patsy took his time getting his bulk to the ring.

 “Quickly, give me the details for the quest from Smiley. I know you’ve been waiting to tell me all morning.”

Patsy blinked in surprise. He quickly forgot John’s unfamiliar verbiage and launched into an explanation.

“Smiley wants you to rob an item from the bloody Lord of Seven Dials. He didn’t tell me what or when just to meet your crow near the shankhouse by the docks. He said you’ve only got two days to do it.”

            John nodded in grim determination and pushed passed Patsy. Patsy just stared at him openmouthed as he made his way upstairs to his room.

            Once John reached the room, he quickly took out all of his gear. It was odd that John had never used this equipment as wholly himself, but every item felt familiar and comforting to him. He smoothly packed all of the gear away with practiced ease. The only difference between before and now is that if focused on an item for longer than a half second, an item description would appear on his HUD. Once he was satisfied that his gear was packed, Jonny put it all away into a large satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He changed from his gear into his night time clothing. The only thing he didn’t put on was his mottled camouflage cloak. The other clothing could be explained away, but the hooded cape would draw too much attention.

            John briskly left the boxing club and made his way the docks with a purposeful and lethal stride. The streets were dirtier than he was used to in his own time, but his time as Jonny was well spent. When pedestrians noticed him coming, they rapidly got out of his way and made it seem as if they were occupied with whatever menial task they were doing. John smiled. It felt good to feel like he was the predator. He had never felt such strength and confidence emanating from his being. The respect and fear from those around him was a heady feeling. Back in his own time, he was merely a proletarian to be stepped on but here…here he was a demigod among men.

            John arrived at the docks and started scanning for Mouse’s form. He was able to find Mouse without drawing any undue attention to himself. The boy was doing his own searching but far less surreptitiously than John. John slinked through the crowd and this time he left barely a ripple from his passing. When John wanted to project confidence and lethal intent, he could. In a place like this, it was more appropriate to swim through the currents of people like a shadow in the water.

            John walked through the crowd and appeared directly in front of Mouse propped up against the wall of a building. Mouse’s eyes popped open in surprise and fear as the target of his searching materialized in front him like a specter from a grave. John raised a hand and placed one finger on his lips. Beckoning to the boy, John made his way to the Queen’s Noose. The boy trotted along silently behind him. Mouse was having a difficult time keeping up with John’s swift stride and had to increase his pace up to a half-jog to keep up.

            He strode into the Queen’s Noose as if he owned it and met anyone who glanced up at him with a challenging glare. The few patrons at this hour dropped their heads and went about their business. Without looking to see If the boy was still following, John went to a corner booth in the back and sat down. Mouse glumly followed suit and sat down. John didn’t waste a second.

            “Look, boy I have my sources, and I know what we need to grab, from whom, and how we’re going to gain entry. I also know that we have to do it tonight. So right now, all we need to do is iron out how we’re going to distract the guards inside and ensure that you have a suitable getaway plan.”

            Mouse’s look of open-mouthed awe would have brought a chuckle to John’s lips at any other time. Right now, however, it was merely annoying. John sighed and then looked around for the bartender. Grimes was behind the bar, and as if he felt John’s gaze he looked up with a grave expression as he polished a mug with a small rag. He lifted his shoulders in a shrugging motion and gestured to the mug in his hand. John felt like he needed a drink but shook his head all the same. He needed to stay focused and get on with this disaster of a quest. He turned his attention to the boy who had remained quiet while watching the unspoken exchange between Grimes and himself. He finally spoke.

            “Well… I don’t know how many guards there are inside of the building. I doubt there are too many outside within shouting difference.”

            John rapped his fingers against the tabletop in annoyance. He couldn’t exactly tell Mouse that it was the guards outside that had caught and killed him. While he was extremely over this training sim, he didn’t want to break character and risk losing all of the abilities and stats he had acquired. Instead, he tried to inject a measure of calm certainty into his voice.

            “There are guards outside, but I’m not sure how to deal with them. Once I sneak in through the hatch in the roof, I will enter a small storage area. In the hallway outside, there are two guards on opposite ends that are protecting the Lord’s room in the center. What I need is a way for you to draw their attention without actually getting caught. I feel like this mission will fail with your capture.”

            John ground his teeth in frustration. He didn’t want to die again. That was a fact. Worse, was dying to that cretin of a woman who could kill a child in cold blood. John didn’t mind killing anymore --a thought that surprised him—but he couldn’t let an innocent die even in a simulation. This sim was unlike anything he had ever experienced and was indistinguishable from real life. While the choices he made in here wouldn’t matter to the outside world, they mattered to him. He felt like there was something cold and dark twisting its way through him slowly but surely. He intuitively understood that the less moral decisions he made, the more powerful this creature would become. He needed to balance that power and escape his pathetic excuse of a life and yet still maintain a semblance of himself.

            Seeing the thoughts swirling in the Ghost’s face, Mouse gently proffered a potential solution.

            “Well, we could use Elizabeth…the girl that got me entry into the manse.”

John’s eyes snapped back from the dark place that his thoughts were taking him to.

            “What do you mean we can use her?”

            “Well, I was just thinking that she and her mom switch off staying the night at the Lord’s house. They remain just in case the Lord needs something during the evening. It’s on Lizzy’s off nights that we…ahem…spend time with one another.” Mouse soldiered on despite the embarrassment lighting a fire on his cheeks. “It’s Lizzy’s off night, and that means her mom is staying the night.”

            The boy looked into John’s face as if looking for a sign of approval. Unfortunately, he still looked quizzical, so Mouse hurried to explain.

            “We can ask her to pound on the door and cry for her mother. Hopefully, she can raise enough racket that the guards up top will go investigate.”

            John frowned in thought.

“and if they don’t?”

Mouse began to reply and then stuttered to a halt.

“Uh… I’m not sure then.”

            John began to think out loud.

“What we need is a distraction that’s serious but not so serious that the Lord isn’t permanently roused from her sleep. The guards need a reason to stay distracted but have a reason not to chase you through the streets.” John tapped one finger against his chin as he tried to reason out something serious without raising a complete alarm.

            “I could throw a brick through a window?”

The glare that John delivered made Mouse shrink in his seat. After a moment, the glare abated, and John began tapping his chin again.

            “Actually. Throwing something might work. Not a brick, of course. If you throw that, you’re seen as just a childish prank. You’d deserve a painful death, but nothing that requires a real changing of the guard rotation. Now...what if we used fire?”

Mouse looked puzzled. “there’s a chance you could burn down the whole building?”

            “No. Just a small one. Maybe if we take a glass bottle, fill it with alcohol, and then set it alight with a rag, we can cause enough of a scare to rattle the Lord without her sending her goons out into the night to find you. If we scare her, she’ll post the guards on the ground floor to protect the premises so that something like that doesn’t happen again.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

            Mouse began to look excited. He had heard of techniques such as this but had never gotten to do it himself. He imagined that he would look the picturesque rogue if he could throw one and fade into the night. His boyish mind began conjuring up fanciful scenarios of him throwing up massive walls of flame, scaring the Lord’s goons, and then disappearing into the night to enjoy his just deserts with Lizzy.

John brought him back to reality by loudly slamming his knuckles against the tabletop.

            “That’s what we’ll do. Meet me on the roof of the house across the street from the Lord’s house. Grab what we need from Giles and get there after full dark. Do not bring your girlfriend. We’re going to get in and get out without anyone the wiser. Any questions?”

            “Wait, yeah! I forgot to tell you; you’re supposed to kill the Lord for Smiley!”

John shushed the boy vehemently. “Yes, idiot I know. I’ll take care of it. Now grab what we need and scram!”

            Mouse leaped from his seat and almost ran to Giles behind the bar. After a hushed conversation, John watched Giles give the boy everything he needed. The boy exited the shankhouse at a run. Giles noticed John’s glower and made his way over to the table with his drink of choice. John didn’t even notice the disparity of his two identities. He had never engaged in any such frivolity in his own time. John went to pull the drink from his hand, but Grimes held it firmly and met his eyes.

            “Be careful lad. You have an aura of death about you. I fear that you may have gotten in over your head on this one. Even the Ghost has to find a grave eventually.”

John nodded and retrieved the drink. He took a small sip and allowed the alcohol to settle on his tongue before replying.

            “You’re more right than you know. Unfortunately, tonight will be a night for killing.”

Grimes shuddered at the steel in John’s eyes and began to walk away. He tossed a half-hearted “good luck” over his shoulder before returning to his place behind the bar.

            John slowly sipped on his drink until the sun began to set on the horizon. No one bothered him, and he was left to his own devices. As the dark orange of sunset lit the sky aflame, John rose from his seat. He was none the worse for wear from his measured drinking and instead felt a sense of relaxed alertness. He was confident, now more than ever, that he would be successful on this go. He didn’t want to wipe again.

            The trip itself was uneventful although this time, John remained on the ground rather than taking to the roofs. He had more time this play through and used it to pick up the pulse of the surrounding neighborhood. Once again, John was struck by the similarity that St. Giles had with Jacob’s Island. Although they were in the same city, he always expected that the two territories would have more marked differences.

            John made it to the building before dark had truly set in. He ambled about the neighborhood flawlessly disguising his abilities. He noted that the Lord had guards all around the rookery. It was no surprise that Mouse had been caught the first time. He wished he had taken the time to gather this information previously. He chuckled darkly.

            “Oh well… live and learn. Or in my case, die and learn.”

Once night had indeed fallen, John made his way to the meeting place. He found Mouse hunched over in the shadow of the chimney just like last time. The difference now was that there was no little Lizzy keeping him company.

            Mouse waited until he drew close before he spoke in a hushed whisper.

            “You were right about having to do it tonight. Lizzy came by and let me know. I can’t figure out how you knew that before I did.”

            John ignored his implied question.

“Are you ready boy?” Mouse nodded. “Good, I’m going to sneak into the building. Once I’m inside, count to two hundred and then throw the bottle.”

            Mouse grimaced. “Sorry, Ghost. I can’t count that high.”

John sighed. “What the hell are they teaching you in school these days?”

            Mouse looked at John blankly. “Why would I go to school? My folks can’t pay for that.”

John suppressed his irritation. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that he lived in a time when children were more concerned with getting a job than going to school.

            “Alright, forget it. I’m going to sneak in, and I need you to imagine the amount of time it will take for me to drop my gear and get into position. You’ve done this sort of work, so I’m trusting in you.” The last was given in a confident timbre, and it had a surprising effect on the kid. He swelled with determination and nodded forcefully.

            Seeing that the kid understood, John dropped silently from the roof and landed in a small abutting alleyway. He padded across the street and gracefully made his way onto the roof of his target. He marveled at his competence. He would never have been able to something like this before the sim. He wasn’t sure if it was the time he spent as Jonny or the resulting stat gains, but he felt silent, graceful, and lethal.

            The hatch posed no trouble for him. He was more familiar with its operation and was inside in mere moments. He silently navigated his way to the ground floor. He did a quick check of all his weapons and eased the larger blades in their scabbards so that he could draw them quickly. Just as before, he lit his dark-lantern and left its muted illumination to fall against the wall away from the door. A short time later, he heard the distinctive shatter of glass and whoosh of flame that heralded the fire bomb’s arrival. It hadn’t been mixed with any thickening agents, and so it should be more shock and awe rather than actual danger.

            The bomb’s conflagration brought shouts of alarm from the guards below. The two on the same floor as him pounded down the stairs. The Lord herself was shaken from her bedroom and cried out.

            “what the bloody hell is going on!?”

One of the thugs responded from below, but John couldn’t hear him from his hidden position. He took the opportunity to open the door while it was masked by the confusion. As a result, he could listen to the exchange between the Lord and her goons.”

            “Ok, so who did it?”

“We don’t know Madam, whoever did it ran off as soon as they threw the firebomb. It could be anyone.”

            There was a brief silence as the Lord digested the information.

“Set up a revolving watch on the house. I want most of you outside. Leave two in the guardroom as a relief. Start patrolling around the house and the immediate vicinity. If one of the other guards in the neighborhood discovers who threw the fire bomb at the home, then have the perpetrator brought to me.”

            John could hear her turn and march back into her room while leaving the unidentified guard on the step. He smiled. This was perfect for his plans. He didn’t think his planning skills were all that great, but maybe his two points invested into luck were able to turn the tide for him in this situation. The guard retreated down the stairs and left him alone on the floor with the Lord. Still, he didn’t want to move just yet. First, the guards were still on high alert and would respond accordingly to any abnormalities. Second, the Lord would not have had any time to return to her slumber. She seemed unusually competent for this era, and he wasn’t willing to tangle with her in a fair fight. A quick knife to the heart while sleeping would finish this scenario once and for all. John’s conscience rebelled for a brief moment at the thought, but he ruthlessly crushed it. He will kill now and think about the consequences later. He didn’t have time for introspection right now.

            John could feel the tension in the house like a palpable thing. It felt like the attention of some great beast was drawn the actions within it. The feeling of being watched kept John alert and ready. Soon, the eerie feeling began to ebb, and John realized that it was a sort of danger sense provided by an overlapping of intelligence, wisdom, and focus. Once the feeling of ever-present danger subsided completely, John crept from the room and down the hallway.

            He prized open the door without a sound and stayed low to the ground. While a crouch wouldn’t necessarily help him be any sneakier or assist in combat, it was still more subtle than merely walking up to the bed. Should the Lord’s eyes open, he didn’t want her to see his dark silhouette standing over her. A bullet to the brain at this juncture would be an annoying way to respawn. He ignored the treasure trove of Victorian wealth around him and advanced to the bed like a detached shadow. He rose up like a vengeful ghost and slid his knife out of its sheath. It was hard to tell where her body was in the refuge of her coverlets. He could discern that she was sleeping on her side away from him. He realized that he was not in an advantageous disposition, but he wasn’t willing to cross to the other side of the bed and potentially wake the Lord up.

            Slightly reaching over the bed, John struck out with the knife aiming for the approximate location of her kidney. He wanted to angle the blade towards him to potentially nick the major artery in her abdomen, but that would be a lucky shot. The piercing of the kidney would be painful enough to incapacitate her with pain while he capitalized on a more lethal target.

            In a twist of ill timing, She turned in her sleep as the downward sweep of the knife caused it bite into her flesh and skid down her spine. John cursed as she cried out in surprise in pain. The parting in her flesh caused blood to soak the bed immediately but she skillfully rolled away from John until she crashed painfully to the floor. John wasn’t sure what would happen next, but he didn’t hesitate in his response. With one knife in one hand, he drew a throwing knife from the bandolier at his thigh and went to cut her off from the door.

            The Lord jumped from the floor quickly and apparently resisted the urge to hold a hand to her wound. Instead, she raised the pistol she had grabbed while rolling off of the bed and raised it in John’s direction with fire in her eyes. John was not as surprised by this maneuver as the first time and let loose his throwing knife as soon as she began to raise it. The knife sailed true and plunged into the wrist of the hand with the pistol. It clattered to the ground, and before she could react, John had closed the distance between them, kicked away the gun, and brought the gleaming point of his knife up to her throat.

            Despite the obvious pain, she was in, the Lord froze and looked into his eyes. The moonlight took this opportunity to shine into the room and illuminate her face. John detachedly noticed that she was beautiful. Her hair was as black as night but the moonlight illuminated eyes that were as blue as Arctic ice. There was a lethality in them that was reminiscent of an apex predator. For a moment, John was sad. She was beautiful, but the predator in him recognized a fellow threat. Something cold twisted in John’s gut, and John grabbed the back of her head with one hand and slammed the blade home with the other. He watched the spark of vitality fade from her eyes.

          With little remorse, John left the blade where it was and let her drop to the ground. He drew his second knife, strode over to the door, and listened for the telltale sounds of approaching guards. Noticing that their brief exchange didn’t attract any attention, John put his knife back in the sheath and studied the Lord’s body curiously. A rancid stench had already begun to emanate from the body. Holding one arm to his mouth, John reached below her nightgown to the pyramid hanging from a thong around her neck. It used to shine with a spectral green light, but now John noticed that it had turned completely black. He wasn’t sure how it glowed with darkness, but it did. John pulled on the pyramid until the thong snapped and it came free in his hand. He looked down into it and felt as if he were being drawn away.

            The glow surrounding the pyramid began to increase until it was the only thing that he could see. It whisked him back to his own time and his reality.