My knuckles throbbed, and my arms ached. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It was currently 5:30 PM. I had been in here for over six hours at this point. Has anyone even noticed? Will anyone even notice? Mark might; though he might figure that I was merely shirking my promise to meet him again. Frank? He might as well if he ever came by. Hopefully, if I die, my neighbors will contact Frank about taking in Clio and Shadow.

If I die…

I laid back and stared at the ceiling. A strange tremor began working its way through my body. The contents of my stomach churned and leaped up my throat, and I had to suppress a gag as my teeth began to chatter together. The shadows gathered in my peripheries grew and loomed over me, and felt as if they might overwhelm me. I draped my cut-up arm over my face to blot them out and slammed my fist into my knee to get the shaking to stop.

“Is there no other way out?” I asked the ghost that had attached itself to me.

No.

“Can’t you do that...group finding thing that you were talking about earlier?”

No. There are no level 10’s in the world yet so it hasn’t been initiated.

“What’s the highest level?” I asked as I let out after I let out a long stream of air.

There’s a level 8 in Japan, but at the rate they’re going, it’s going to take them two or so days to get to level 10.

Two days...that’s the soonest I could get help. Would I be able to hide away for two days? Would Clio and Shadow be okay for two days? No, they wouldn’t, and that’s what’s more important. If not outright hurt by an angry Mark when he tried to push into my door, then they’d be at each other’s throats once their hunger got the better of them. As is the nature of cats and dogs.

“What can I do?”

You can hide out, or you can fight. Those are your two options aside from dying.

“But how do I fight? How could I win against 23 enemies?”

You don’t have to. He said.

“Yeah, I do. That’s one of the tasks, isn’t it?”

Yes, but you don’t have to win against them all at once; nor do you even have to engage them in fair combat.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“But what can I do?” I whined as I leaned back, and let out another long stream of air.

It was something that my therapist had taught me to do in moments when my anxiety began to go into overdrive: to take deep breaths and to breathe them out slowly through my mouth.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Normally, it worked. Now, however, I couldn’t just stop my heart from pounding in my chest. I slammed my fist into my chest to try to stop it from beating so wildly and rolled over onto my stomach. I needed to be strong. I needed to be strong so that Clio and Shadow wouldn't suffer needlessly. I needed to survive this so that I could continue taking care of the. I needed to survive...

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered.

You will if you just stay here wallowing.

“I’m not wallowing,” I answered.

I pushed myself off of the stairs with a heavy, pained grunt.

“But what can I do?”

Think for yourself. My patron said. But remember, you’re not facing 23 enemies at once. At most, you’re taking on 2.

“What do you mean? There are 23. It says so on the Shard.”

Do you have to fight them in the street?

“Do I have to fight them in the street, what does that even mean? Do you want me to fight them in…”

I looked at the door; wide open to welcome the night air, and the small room it opened up into. Furthermore, if I lead them upstairs, I would be taking on one at a time. How would I better those odds?

I glanced around the small living space. There was a kitchen and pantry near where I had burst through the wall. I walked over to it and threw open the door to the pantry: sitting on the shelves was a small crate of dried, bright red berries. Other than that: lining the shelves were glass jars and bottles: half of them broken. I could probably use these as caltrops or something similar. I picked the shards up carefully and set them right in front of the door. If I broke any of the bottles right now to increase the number of caltrops, I risked alerting the guards up the road a little.

I then turned my attention to the red berries. Could I use these? Are they poison? Why were they left here? I test one with my tongue. When I don’t feel anything burning, I chew on it: rolling around the chewed substance on my tongue for a bit. Again, finding nothing amiss, I swallowed and gripped my wand.

As soon as it hit my stomach, the hunger I felt evaporated. Even the fatigue that had built up over the day from slowly smashing through the plaster and wood wall alleviated just a little bit. These...these could be useful in the future. I plopped another in my mouth. How would I move them...ah, I didn’t have a way at the moment. I suppose I’ll be on the lookout for them in the future. I stuffed a few in my pocket and continued searching through the house for anything that I might be able to use.

There was nothing in the kitchen and nothing in the entry room to the house. Upstairs was simply a bedroom with a bookshelf and a corpse. There was a bag, however. I filled that halfway up with berries and slung it over my shoulder. On the Catman, it would probably have fit over its chest like a satchel, but on me, it was nothing but an oversized purse.

In the room, there was a small alcove that the bed sat in, much like the first dive that I did, that held the bed. Just beyond the bed in the wall, was a window covered in a dingy gray curtain. I parted the curtain a little with the tip of my wand, and quickly closed it: there was a perfect view of the two guards. Now, instead of two ratmen, there was a ratman and a dogman standing and chatting with one another as they haphazardly watched the street.

There was nothing that I could find that would help me even the numbers. Am I going to have to funnel them in? I asked that question to myself as I sat on the upper step of the stairwell. One at a time coming up here: no, it would be two at a time if they had anything with reach, like my Patron said. No...it would be even more if they had anyone with ranged capabilities…

I popped my neck and flinched as I nearly rammed my head against the lamp embedded in the wall.

Lamp?

I pushed myself off the wall and turned to face it. It had a glass bulb with its top open, and inside was a wide wick coming out of what felt like a tin bowl that was hung on the wall with a rusted screw. It reminded me of something from my childhood — of the kerosene lamps that my grandmother kept around her house.

The glass bulb came loose by turning a screw on the side of the contraption. I set it down on the step below me and pulled open the top. Shimmering inside, and soaking into the wick, was a liquid that glimmered in multicolored sheens. Now this might be something to turn the tides.