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Recuperation

The room is simple. A large, queen-sized bed, with a faded blue quilt, sat in front of a large television; one of those that had lead filled bottoms and bulbous screens. There was a desk and a single chair that seemed as if it had been pulled out of a dining room on the other side of the room, where the hall led to the closet and restroom. I set Clio down on the floor and aim the staff in the middle of the bed.

“O, Companion of Mine, come to me.”

Brrow?

Shadow drops out of the air and onto the comforter. She glances around; wide-eyed, before hopping off the bed and brushing against my leg.

Where?

Her voice echoes in my head.

“This is home now,” I answer.

I plop onto the edge of the bed and manage to pull off my socks and shoes. The stench is nearly unbearable, but the comfort is unreal as I finally relieve the pressure off my hurt leg. I manage to unbuckle the gauntlets and set them on the floor next to my torn-up hoodie. I do the same with the mail. It falls with a heavy thunk onto the mattress and depresses it. I barely manage to set it down next to the bed. I then unlace the blue tunic, pull it off, setting in the same pile, pull the Kris off of the band of my pants, then finally lay my back against the bed.

It is the most comfortable thing I have ever felt. I move a couple of the multitudinous pillows on the bed to the foot and set my leg up on it to prop it off before weariness took me and I found myself drifting off to sleep. I wake up with both Clio and Shadow sleeping next to me. The sun is strong as it filters through the southern window, and I pull my phone out of my pocket. Before it dies, I quickly place an order for a few things from All-mart. Dog food, cat food, a few pairs of clothes, soap, some shampoos, some new shoes, some dishes, and a phone charger. I also order something from a nearby pizza joint.

As I wait, I turn on the television with the remote on the table next to the bed. There were only a few channels; so I choose the news and turned it up as high as it could go as I hobbled to the restroom. The shower hisses on, and I wait for the water to heat up I examine myself in the mirror.

I traced the thick white line that bisected my belly button and fingered the triangular hole where the Kris’ blade had entered on my side. How many more scars would dot my body over the course of five years, I wonder. How many more lines on my back where the Ratman priest had stabbed me over and over again? I strip, and hobble over to the shower and sit on the side as I clean my body of sweat and dried blood. For the first time in what feels like months, I feel clean.

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That quickly ends as I put on those old pants, and slipped on that sweat-stained tunic. At least my body was clean. I sit on the edge of the bed. The news was talking about a mundane thing. Some end-of-the-world cult had cropped up at some point a couple of months back, and the increase. I didn’t care. I knew the world was going to end soon.

It takes about ten minutes after my shower for the first of the orders to arrive. I pay them in cash, with a large tip, and take the pizza and set it on the table. About thirty minutes after that, the delivery from All-mart had come. I help as well as I could with my injured leg, pay the man a large tip, and begin to unpack.

Four plastic bowls go on the floor. One with cat foot, one with dog food, and two with water from the sink. I pull out a pair of collars: a light blue one for Clio, and a dark red one for Shadow. It takes some coaxing to put it on the former. With that on it, I open the window, and Shadow immediately dashes out. She’ll be safe. She always is.

I lay down after having a few slices of pizza. After a bit, I take Clio out for a walk to use the restroom on the small patch of grass in the middle of the complex. After that, I approach the head desk.

“I’ll like to pay for the next week,” I tell the woman. It’s the same one.

“If you want.”

I set down 900 dollars.

“Keep the change. Also, I’ll clean the room myself, so please no housekeeping.”

“Room 212?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll make a note.” Her fingers blur again, and I go back.

“Also pick your dog’s shit, can you?”

I pull out a small baggie from my pocket and do just that; tossing it into the dumpster beneath the overhanging hallway. I look back. Three doors stand within the parking lot; one right outside of the front office, one beneath a beat-up car, and one standing right in front of me, by the dumpster.

“What level is this?” I ask the Shard on my arm.

“5.” It responds.

I’ll close it once it’s dark. I tell myself as I take the elevator up to the second floor and open the door. It feels odd to relax for a change, but if I were to go in now I would die, surely. Then again, if I don’t, I could level up and get back into the fight quicker. Or I could die, and leave Clio alone in a strange place. I’ll take the day to think it over.

I hobble over to the bed and set Clio down. She crawls into my lap as we watch the television.

“How many points do I have towards the leaderboard?” I ask.

“You have closed eleven doors, with a combined total of 39 points.”

“How are the points calculated?”

“By the levels of the Doors you close. One point for each level.”

“I feel like I should be near the front.” I say with some pride, “How many people could close a level ten door by myself?”

“The one at the top so far has a combined score of 105.”

I lose that sense of pride and lay back. I grab my staff and begin casting Lesser Heal on myself over and over again, in an attempt to mend my twisted leg. I didn’t realize I had a competitive side to me, yet here it was, beginning to burgeon.