She had almost spent an entire day with Victor, and she still knew little about him besides his name.

And that part was only due to it being written in a floating box next to her head.

Victor: Swordsman Lvl 9 Marie: Crossbowman Lvl 8

Victor called it the party system, a way to share the credit for kills. So while he roamed around butchering his way through countless mobs, she could just sit on a roof and practice on the stragglers.

Every once in awhile he’d return to carry her to the next location, slowly clearing their way towards the city.

He seemed fixated on reaching the city, never telling her why. Initially, she had assumed it was because there would be more people there, but the longer they travelled the less this felt like the case.

There was a reason he was heading there, a reason he wasn’t telling her.

Thunk

Another clueless goblin fell down dead.

She pulled the string back and loaded another bolt in. She didn’t have to worry about ammunition, apparently, their weapons were magical. They wouldn’t rust or break, ranged weapons had infinite ammo included. And if it ever got lost it could just be resummoned.

Though she couldn’t figure out how Victor knew all of this, and he would avoid the question whenever she asked.

“The sun is gonna start setting soon, we should try to make camp before dark.” Victor’s voice playing in her head.

“Sure, I’m still at the last spot you left me at.” Party chat, another fun little part of the system that he just happened to know existed.

“Got it, should be back in five minutes.”

“Mhm.”

Sure enough, about five minutes later Victor had climbed up the roof she was perched at.

“I assume you have a spot in mind?” She put her crossbow away and waited patiently to be picked up.

“Yes, I found a house with a ridiculously large balcony.” He lifted her up, carrying her in the ‘bridal’ position.

She had suggested finding a pair of crutches for her to use, but being carried was easier and faster. Plus it left her hands free to shoot the few goblins that crossed their path, all of the other goblins were already dead, courtesy of Victor.

Eventually, they reached a house which they walked towards instead of the past, she looked at it. He was right, the balcony was ridiculously large.

They walked up the driveway, a gentle breeze blowing over them.

“Heh, we kinda look like a couple of newlyweds don’t we?”

“Newlyweds?” He looked down at her, then back up, “I guess.”

He had reached the door and was attempting to turn the handle with his foot.

“Do you have no sense of humor, I’ve been making jokes all day and you haven’t laughed at a single one.” She reached out and grabbed onto the handle.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll try to laugh at the next one.”

“Don’t do that, I don’t want your pity.” She jiggled the handle a few more times, the door still not budging, “I think it’s locked.”

“Got it,” He gave it a swift kick, breaking the lock effortlessly. Once they had stepped inside he lowered her down so she could stand on her own, “Take a look around, see if you can find any food.”

“And what about you?”

“I’m going to barricade the doors and windows.”

She nodded, then hopped her way into the kitchen.

She checked the cupboards first, finding an assortment of snacks and biscuits. Figures that such a massive house would have a proportionally large kitchen, stocked with a wide assortment of snacks. She even found a large selection of candy and chocolate, compared to the two packs of cookies she had for lunch this was a feast.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She checked the fridge next, most of the contents were uncooked meat and vegetables, the only things that interested her were the cans of soda on the top shelf and a wide selection of fruits.

The fruits had their own little shelf in the fridge so she just took the whole thing out and slid it onto the countertop. Then she went through looking for something to drink. There were a couple of cans of what she assumed was beer, was Victor old enough to drink?

Well, there wasn’t really anyone around who would care, and considering the state of the world, she probably wasn’t going to get in trouble for underage drinking.

Then again she probably didn’t want to be getting drunk right now.

She grabbed a can of coke and hopped her way back to the counter, pulling herself onto one of the stools so she could begin eating. Only now did she notice a fairly large stain on the kitchen floor, one of dried blood.

Did he clean up before bringing her here?

She wondered what he could’ve done with the bodies, probably just thrown over the fence into a neighbour’s garden.

He didn’t seem to have much respect for the dead. For her parents, he had just thrown a tablecloth on top to cover them up. And that was only because she had begged him to at least do something.

She took another sip of soda, seriously considering the alcohol in the back of the fridge.

Victor entered the kitchen, dragging a sofa behind him. There was a door in the kitchen leading to the back garden and he propped the sofa against it.

“There are drinks in the fridge, they’re mostly lukewarm though.” He nodded and opened the fridge, picking out a bottle of water. She pointed at the sofa he had propped against the door, “Is that enough to stop them?”

“Enough to deter them,” He stepped back to admire his handiwork, “If they really wanted to get in here nothing would be able to stop them.”

He looked at the food she had laid out over the counter, taking a pack of bread. Marie just stared as she watched him eat the bread raw.

“Do you not want anything with your bread?”

“No.” He gurgled at her as he continued to wolf it down, finishing the entire pack in a single go. Then downing what she assumed was half a litre of water, “I’m going to double-check all the entrances, make sure there aren’t any I missed.”

“Oh… sure.”

He left the room leaving her to eat in silence.

-

The sun had started setting.

Marie had left the kitchen and was hopping her way up the stairs. A couple of pictures were hung on the wall near the stairs. She wondered which one of them was the bloody stain in the kitchen, but I suppose it didn’t really matter, they were all gone now, weren’t they?

When she reached the top of the steps she found Victor crouched there, tying a piece of string between the banisters.

“What are you up to?”

“Setting up a tripwire at the top of the stairs,” He looked up, seeing that she was standing on the other side of his little trap, “You need some help getting over it?”

“Yes please,” He lifted her over by her shoulders, gently putting her down on the other side, “You picked a bed yet?”

"Pick whichever one you want, I’m sleeping on the balcony.” She started to hop away, ready to turn in for the night.

“Any reason why?”

“Not used to sleeping indoors.” She stopped and turned back to face him.

“Wait, where do you usually sleep?”

“In a bed,” He paused, thinking back to what he had just said, “I mean, I prefer sleeping outdoors.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“Slip of the tongue.” He turned back to work on his little trap, obviously trying to avoid saying anything more. She would’ve tried to push him for an answer, but she knew better than to try. He’d just sit there in silence.

“Sure, I’ll see you in the morning.” She added that little exchange to the list of questions she wanted to ask him.

“Night.”

She hopped her way down the hall, picking one of the doors and looking inside. The room wasn’t particularly large, but it was pretty spacious, with little furniture besides the bed and a couple of wardrobes.

She hopped over to the bed and tucked herself in. Eventually drifting to sleep.

-

(Sometime in Victor’s first life)

Two men around their mid-thirties sat around a small fire, eating bits of meat they had just roasted off it.

“Ironic isn’t it? That it would be just the two of us again. The original duo, Victor and Fred.”

“I guess,” Victor didn’t look up, choosing to focus on his food.

“The last time we were like this was back in Yorktown wasn’t it? Can you believe that? That was almost two decades ago. Just the two of us out for revenge, me, the tragic hero. And you, his sidekick.“

Victor didn’t speak, and just kept on eating. Silent as a ghost.

“Why don’t you pick this time?”

“Pick what?”

“What we do from here on out. Last time we went with what I wanted, this time we’ll go with what you want,” He stared across at Victor concernedly, “What do you want to do?”

“I want to bury her.”

“You’re still not over it are you?” Victor didn’t answer, “That was years ago, I don’t even remember where she died.”

“I do.”

Silence once again.

Fred sat there for a while, not sure what to say. Eventually, he stood up, dusting himself off.

“Fine,” He smiled weakly, trying to lighten the mood, even if only a little, “Your turn to find closure.”

-

Victor laid there, wide awake, eyes open.

A dream?

He had laid there for what felt like forever, trying to recall the now fading memory.

Their last adventure together, after they had both lost every reason to live.

Was it my fault he died?

He had asked himself that question many times, each time coming back to the same answer.

Guilt was a distraction, distractions get you killed.

Victor, was it your fault he died?

Yes.

Yes it was.