Rosaline jogged across the street through fresh puddles. It was night and the wet concrete reflected the street lights and lamps from empty tenement houses. She’d pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up to protect against the rain, turning the world into a shiny tunnel she jogged through. Rosaline’s pace was measured and, like her footfalls, her breathing remained steady and comfortable.
Like most experienced runners, Roseline lost herself in motion. Her mind wandered for long stretches as her legs moved on autopilot, traveling through endless thoughtless vistas.
Tonight it was a street crossing that interrupted her experience and brought her mind back to ground. The crosswalks in her city had all switched to the small buttons that beeped when you touched them. This was one of the older kind they had in her hometown: a big metal button that you had to push in with a solid clunk.
Roseline mulled this over as she adjusted her ponytail. Her dark hair was getting long again and needed a cut. When she jogged it liked to wiggle out of her hairband.
She looked back and forth along the street even as she kept jogging in place. A few cars were parked along the side of the road in defiance of local ordinances. Their headlights were dark and their windshields covered in drops of rain, but Roseline viewed them with suspicion.
The car is an apex predator, killing not through malice but obliviousness. No matter how observant a man was, once he slid behind a steering wheel, he saw only the road and other cars. If you placed a human-sized metal post in the middle of the street, painted it red, and added reflective tape, people would still slam into it and then express complete shock at its existence.
Roseline finished adjusting her ponytail and ran her hand over her head, slicking back her hair with the rain. Nights like these were her favorite: there were fewer people on the street and the air was cool and fresh, the rain helping to clear away the dust and exhaust.
Strange how quiet it was though. Usually, there’d be a few cars roaming the streets or the boom of TV or radio through the thin apartment walls. Through the quiet came a gentle skittering sound behind her.
Roseline glanced back and saw only leaves.
The light finally turned and she checked both ways before heading off. Now that she was paying more attention to her surroundings, Roseline thought she might have taken a wrong turn a block or so back. Her surroundings felt unfamiliar and there were none of the little shop signs or restaurants she knew. This didn’t bother her as much as one might think; after years of living here, Roseline was comfortable with the street layout and a hazy mental map at the back of her head. At the next corner, she turned left towards the north—she was bound to hit Piedmont St in a few minutes. Once she reached a major thoroughfare, Roseline would know exactly where she was.
One block went by and then another and Roseline still hadn’t hit Piedmont. She wondered if she’d gotten so turned around that she wasn’t heading north at all. Roseline pulled out her phone and realized with surprise that it was dead. This inspired an irritated grunt. She thought she’d charged it but must not have plugged it in properly.
It was not a big deal as it was still early enough in the evening that most businesses were open. She merely had to find one and orient herself. If worse came to worse, she’d order a taxi to take her home.
Still, as she moved on, her unease grew. Despite what one saw in cheap thrillers, being a young woman alone at night wasn’t that dangerous. Obviously, there were parts of the city one tried to avoid, but those parts were just as much trouble whether one was male or female, young or old. The vast majority of people one encountered while jogging simply ignored you. At most, you might get someone trying to bum a cigarette or some change. What you had to watch out for were lazy dog owners who let their pets run around off a leash—they’d stand and do nothing but yell ‘here girl!’ while their dog slammed into your legs and tripped you.
But… this was weird. Something was weird about tonight and Roseline was starting to get nervous. Where was everyone? Thinking back, she didn’t recall seeing another living soul for about an hour now. All the cars were parked and empty. All the shops were closed. There were lights coming from homes but no sign of anyone moving around.
There was an awful, panicky feeling growing in her chest. As she stepped in front of an alley, there was a metallic crash and Roseline yelped, leaping back before she could think. A silver, slightly bent trashcan rolled across the ground and bumped into a brick wall, coming to rest. Peering at it, Roseline spotted a generous furry posterior and a long rat tail sticking out.
She rolled her eyes at her reaction. Roseline got annoyed when people were too emotional—laughing too loudly, yelling at the scary parts of movies. When her co-worker had brought her new baby to work, a bunch of people had gathered around it to ooo and ah. Roseline had simply pulled on her headphones. She liked babies but give the little fellow some space. Besides, you could get a newborn sick by exposing it to 30 different adults that way.
Yet she was the one they called thoughtless and rude.
Finally, her eyes alighted on a gas station with a convenience store. The heavy door was already ajar, it felt sticky and sluggish as she pulled it open, and then it remained agape, the black metal arm having long given away its last shit.
“Hello,” Roseline called. No one answered and she didn’t spot anyone near the register. Given how slow it was, the cashier was probably smoking out back or taking a half-hour long ‘bathroom break.’ Grubby tile squeaked under her wet sneakers as she leaned over the counter and spotted a plastic phone, its numbers worn off.
“Hello!” She rose her voice it could carry into the back. “Anyone here?”
There was a grumble and Roseline’s hopes rose before she realized it was one of the refrigerators kicking in.
While her immediate impulse was simply to hop the counter and call a taxi, she figured she’d wait a few minutes. There was the usual selection of candy bars, cheap beer, and hot dogs that had been rotating in the heater for so long they were mummified.
A giant, anti-theft mirror hung above the cooler and she glanced at her distorted image. Her face was a pale blob with a red spot for a nose. In the reflection, something gleamed golden on the floor at the end of the aisle and she twisted to look behind her.
It was a hexagonal copper coin. One of those goofy tokens they handed out to kids at amusement parks. Normally, Roseline would be averse to picking random things off ground, especially this ground, but it looked clean and bright.
Plucking it up, she studied it in the flickering, buzzing fluorescent light. On one side was a circular labyrinth. The design reminded her of I'itoi, the Old Man in the Maze. The other side was two doves in flight.
Ah, doves and copper—Venus. This was probably meant to be a love token and someone stamped the back with a Native American design just because they thought it looked…
Was that a hand on the floor?
Roseline had taken another step or two forward and just now realize there was a hand on the floor, its arm disappearing behind a magazine aisle. The pale skin blended in with the tile.
For a moment, her heart spasmed and she froze, the dread that had been gnawing at her rushed in. It was difficult to breathe.
But no, she was being foolish. Yes, it was a hand but that didn’t have to be something alarming. Think, Roseline, think. Don’t let your emotions make you stupid. It’s probably the cashier and he probably fell asleep out of sight. He works at a gas station, he juggles three different jobs, and tries to nap when he can.
Roseline stared at the hand.
… but he didn’t wake up when she called? And why sleep on the floor instead of in the back?
“Fuck,” she whispered and took a step forward.
Blood on the floor, the man’s mouth hanging open in an expression of pain. Blood soaked into his work shirt. Torn cloth. Jagged slashes across his chest and stomach.
And rats. Big, fat sewer rats chewing on his flesh. She recognized the sound then. She’d heard it beneath the echo of her steps, the grumble of the fridge, and the constant buzzing of the overhead lights. Wet chewing sounds, gnawing sounds, shuffling and squeaking sounds.
Roseline stumbled back, knocking over a map turnstile. She rushed to the counter and vaulted over it like she was nineteen again and competing at college regional. The thought flitted through her head that she ought to verify that the man was dead—hungry rats would eat dying people—but even if he were still alive she’d want to call emergency first.
She picked up the phone and dialed 911 then held her breath. No dial tone, the line was dead.
Her eyes widened as she glanced around the store. Someone must have cut the wires before coming in and killing the man. The murderer might even be here still.
One of the rats stuck its head around the corner. Sniffing the air curiously and looking at her with black eyes.
There was no gun behind the counter or even a baseball bat. Another groaning sound came from the back and this time Roseline wasn’t sure it was mechanical.
She moved to the door, glancing behind her as she went. Another rat waddled into her path. Roseline kicked it, the little furry mound squeaked in protest as it went flying. More rats were following her now. They were as big as good-sized house cats, their black and brown fur covered in a nasty-looking oil.
Piled up beside an empty ice dispenser were burnt-out tires and a broken wooden pallet. Roseline the loose board on the pallet and stomped down, ignoring the splinters that prickled her fingers.
A hissing rat ran towards her, as though her getting a weapon had incited its fury. She swung down and crushed its head. Now the others darted forward and Roseline batted them away but two more had appeared from the side of the building.
Was this seriously happening?
An entire nest of rats had crawled out of the muck to eat a man, maybe even kill him, and how they were attacking her. As she impaled one and then sent it cartwheeling into the street, Roseline wondered if she was losing her mind. Rats were scared of people. Even if they suddenly turned bloodthirsty, they had a full-grown human to munch on already, why attack her?
Rabies, it must be a new strain of rabies.
A rat tried to bite her ankles and she danced out of the way. This seemed to be the last one. Roseline booted it to the door and then swung it shut, trapping its wriggling form between the frame until something gave and it went limp.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Roseline sucked in air as her heart continued to hammer. She should call the police and then go to the urgent care. People needed to know about this. Or perhaps they already knew. If there had been an emergency broadcast she missed, that might be why no one was on the streets.
As she walked to the nearby houses, a screen popped up in front of Roseline:
[Initial evaluation complete. New Unit accepted.]
Ash King's Rook (B-Grade, Mundane Tier)
Might: 8 | Grace: 7 | Fortitude: 10
Presence: 5| Intuition: 6 | Awareness: 6
Attk bonus: 0 | Def bonus: 0
Special: None | Aspect: None
It brought her up short and she looked around, trying to find out where it was being projected from. Nowhere she could see. When she took a step to the side, it followed, remaining right in the middle of her vision.
[Reward for completing evaluation: Deckholder
Reward for first combat win: Common grade card
Bonus, no damage taken: One copper coin.]
Okay, this was wild. Sweat trickled into her eyes and she wiped it away with the back of her arm.
The message sparkled and transformed into a leather belt that hung in the air. Roseline reached for it and it solidified in her hands. It wasn’t exactly a belt but a leather bandoleer with a slim pouch built into it.
Roseline knocked at the first door and rang the buzzer. As she waited, she kept an eye out on the street and the gas station. Was that a figure moving in the aisles? The person was hunched over as they looked around and then raised their snout and sniffed.
Roseline swallowed hard and silently crept further away. At the corner, she pulled on her bandoleer. There was the faint rattle of a coin within. She rang a few more doorbells but didn’t pound on any doors. No one answered.
Now that she was alert she saw small bodies slipping through the shadows. Had they always been there? Or were more of them emerging? Eyes glinted bright and hard at her. There was no fear on display, only some unholy intelligence taking notice of her. In every alley, she could spot a dozen of them now. At every intersection, she saw a few darting across the street in the distance.
They were following her.
It was clear now that this wasn’t her city. She was somewhere else. But even if this had been her home, she’d be completely turned around by now.
The first real attack caught her by surprise. As she passed a row of parked cars, there was a clang from a nearby dumpster. Roseline snapped in its direction, eyes furiously looking for movement, and then a heavy weight landed on her back. She almost screamed but when Roseline hit the pavement the breath was knocked out of her. She twisted under the creature as its teeth and claws sank into her.
There was no way to reach it and it firmly gripped her back. With a grunt, she lifted herself up a few inches and then slammed her back into the nearby car. Once, twice, and then Roseline managed to get her legs under her properly and throw her entire body into the blow. It release its hold and Roseline scrambled away. The plank of wood she’d been using to defend herself rested several feet away and she lunged for it, grabbing it as fast as she could and then spinning around.
The creature that had attacked her was as much wolf-hound as rat. It swayed awkwardly as it tried to get its paws under it. Sensing it was still dazed, Roseline clubbed it over the head. It cringed, its sounds of pain as she hit it repeatedly were too similar to a dog’s. She felt her resolve falter. She couldn’t put strength behind her blows as it shrank from her, blood oozing into its right eye.
Roseline panted and some damn burst within her. She fell back and emptied her gut. This place was mad. So what if she killed one monster or not? So what if she killed a hundred? There had to be thousands of these things, maybe tens of thousands, maybe she was the only human left alive in this nightmarish place.
Spitting up the last bit of bile, Roseline began to run. Instead of looking forward, she looked up. In the distance, she spotted taller buildings where the residential district gave way to business and industry. If she could get high up, Roseline could catch her bearings.
Her legs pumped wildly as she tried to flee from this madness with all her strength. She didn’t bother looking left or right, only on outrunning the horror behind her. Soon the burning in her muscles and her own reason caught up with her. This thing was hunting her: it had tracked her until she became unnerved and then used simple trickery to distract her as it struck. These rats were working together and running to exhaustion would only make her easier to take down.
She slowed as she emerged into a plaza. Bright spotlights illuminated a bronze Prometheus as fountain water sprayed upwards around his noble form. Roseline stopped by the water, letting the cool mist wash over her.
Even then she saw them, though they did not seem to like the light.
It was only then that Roseline noticed she’d been bleeding. Not a great deal, thankfully enough, but the rat-dog had managed to scrape up her sides and the back of her neck. If it weren’t for the thickness of her hood and her long hair, she expected it would have gotten a far deadlier grip.
As she moved through the commercial district, Roseline found more locked doors, some even chained shut. She wondered at the bright lights that continued to shine from high up. Some were no-doubt automatic but a few must hold souls like herself. She couldn’t be the only person alive… could she?
Why had she even ended up here?
At last, she came to a large, elegant hotel. On the fifth and highest floor, all the rooms were dark save one. A strobe light pulsed in a regular pattern: blue, blue, blue, red. What did that mean? That had to mean something.
This could be another trap but she would risk it.
Soft jazz drifted from speakers near the valet. Someone had tried to roughly bar the spinning door by packing it full of luggage. That would have worked for older models but peering up into the spinning column, Roseline found the release latch. You had to have one these days to accommodate people with disabilities… and the snot-nosed brats that deliberately got themselves stuck at least once or twice a year.
She undid the latch, swung the glass panel outwards, and began digging out the luggage. Even while she worked, Roseline looked around. A few rats slithering under parked cars and a few more running along the gutters. No dire rat-dogs in sight. There was blood splattered on the plush carpet of the hotel lobby, however.
When she finally got in, she examined one. It was dried stiff and there were no bodies in sight. There were other bloodstains, all just as brown and old, as well as frequent signs of struggle. Shattered potted plants, a knocked-over luggage trolley, and pearls from a necklace.
Rolling one between her fingers, Roseline remembered her coins and reward card. She jabbed at the elevator button, unzipped the little pouch on the bandoleer, and pulled her ‘Common Card.’
Castling Short
Active: Switch places with a designated ally, any damage done to them in the last six seconds transfers to you instead.
-- Use: Once daily
Passive: When you have at least one ally in sight, you have +1 Def bonus.
The elevator chimed and opened for her.
“That’s useless,” Roseline muttered to herself. Tucking the card away, she entered.
A mournful sax accompanied her upwards. The fifth floor was unlit save for Christmas lights strung along the walls. That was enough to give her pause. No blood stains though. Roseline exited the elevator and went to the stairwell. A glance down revealed no furry killers to block her escape.
Someone, or something, had drawn arrows along the wall, leading to room 536. All around the door frame were arrow stickers and chalk drawings.
Roseline no longer thought this was a trap. It was looking more like someone’s manic episode. She tried the door handle, half expecting it to be locked but it swung open easily to reveal a hotel suite with a sunken living room and all the furniture pulled out. Standing in the middle of the room, a flashing strobe light attached to its back was…
A candy machine.
A fucking coin-operated machine where you twist the handle and out pops a treat or a little plastic bubble with a cheap toy.
Roseline could have screamed with frustration. Instead, she deflated. She sat at the edge of the living space, head in her hands. Her feet ached, her body ached, she was all alone in a city, killer rats had taken over, and she needed to pee. And her one hope since landing in this awful world turned out to be an advertisement for dollar store toys.
This place must have a toilet.
Getting to her feet, she headed to the bathroom. Her legs protested her getting up—she’d probably sleep like a rock when she got a chance.
After doing her business, she returned to the living room. They had a mini-fridge with a few bottles of water she happily downed. After a few gulps, approached the candy machines. They were white plastic and slightly taller than she was, four altogether with metal rods joining them in the back.
From left to right they offered:
Healing Hearts Gummy Candies. +10 to Health.
MagWrecker Crowbar. +1/+0, Might
Silk Cutter Katana. +2/+0, Grace
UltraBrite Flashlight. This last one had a little red Out of Stock sticker over the coin deposit.
Above the machines hung a glowing message: Only one purchase per customer.
Roseline looked at the dispensers dubiously. Candy and a flashlight she could imagine, but what sort of a sword came out of a vending machine?
It was not the mere unreality of it all. Healing candies were strange but so were giant rat-dogs. So was being pulled into another city while in the middle of a jog. Something fundamental had broken down tonight and Roseline wasn’t going to reject anything that might help her survive. It just felt like she’d wandered off the set of Aliens to take a break in Mario Kart land.
Okay, she had two coins. First, should she go with the katana or the crowbar? While the katana had better stats (twice as good?), Roseline had no idea how to wield a sword. Whacking something with a crowbar was simple enough and she could use it to pry things open.
Now, which would be more useful for her, a crowbar or a healing item? Roseline wasn’t badly hurt but it seemed inevitable that she’d suffer more attacks before the night was through. She’d probably need healing. At the same time, a healing item was something you used once while a weapon was something you used constantly. And healing wasn’t too useful if a monster was able to straight-up kill you.
Crowbar again.
Roseline dropped a coin into the machine and twisted the key-like crank. It made a deeply satisfying clacking sound and then spit out a plain card.
MagWrecker Crowbar
+1/+0 when wielded
Might, Equip, Weapon
She waved the card in the air, trying to get it to do its magic.
[Would you like to Equip MagWrecker Crowbar to your Weapon Slot*?]
“Asterisk?” Roseline tapped the card to the pernicious bit of punctuation that indicated fine print.
[Equipment is a type of card that attaches to a Unit called their Bearer. While attached, it grains their Bearer its benefits and positive tags. Each type of Equipment requires a specific slot-type and a Bearer can only wield one piece of Equipment in each slot.
If a Bearer leaves Play, all Equipment they carry is left on the Battlefield.]
Well, she didn’t like being referred to as a unit but learning she was on a battlefield was interesting. She’d played a handful of collectible card games and typically you summoned a creature from your hand to a battlefield to defend or attack a player.
Typically, there was no attention given to the actual summoned beings who died in various horrific ways, sometimes even being sacrificed to benefit their summon. Even if the fiction was that they were adorable pocket monsters who just wanted to sleep, their sole purpose was to fight and die. They didn’t even do that thing that actual soldiers did where they had actual thoughts and opinions on how battles should be fought.
[Would you like to Equip MagWrecker Crowbar to your Weapon Slot*?]
The message flashed impatiently.
“Yes,” Roseline said, trying to keep her tone calm even though she was addressing a magical box.
The card broke into a million glowing bits and reformed into a crowbar. It was nice and heavy, seemly made out of cast iron with a leather strip wrapped around it for a grip. Apparently, she was +1 better at attacking now, though Roseline felt the same as ever.
She pulled out her second coin and tried to buy a Healing Heart but the crank wouldn’t move.
“Had to try,” she said to the ‘one item per customer’ sign.
Then she spent a few minutes attempting to tear open the dispenser with her new crowbar.