Cillian was crouched low in the grass, staring at the deer not even twenty feet away. He wasn’t sure if he could make the shot from this distance, but trying to get any closer could spell imminent disaster, so he had to be careful. It was a lot slower than a bow or gun, so he had to be cautious with that, too.
The deer had very soft eyes, even at this distance, he thought, and swallowed thickly. Come to think of it, it was an elegant creature, all legs and gentle browns that invited him to pet. It was beautiful, in its own way, with dappled cream spots and delicate footsteps as it munched on the tall grass.
… It was also very vulnerable, unaware of the predator in the grass just waiting for it to make a mistake. That was right. He was a predator right now, and he almost preferred to be the prey. It was easier to justify killing then. But was it really that important for him to kill? And feed that damned cat? Couldn’t the Tower just conjure up some kibble for it or something? He hadn’t even thought to ask. Maybe he should try asking first. He didn’t really want to do this.
Cillian shifted back on his haunches, and the grass rustled. In an instant, the deer’s head shot up, and his eyes went wide.
“Shit!”
Cillian popped to his feet and let the hatchet fly, but the deer was already bolting away as the hatchet fell harmlessly in the grass and wildflowers.
Dammit.
He fucked up.
Now he had to find the hatchet in all this blasted grass. How obnoxious. With a sigh, he made his way through the waist-high grass, looking around for the hatchet in question, and tried hard to think about how he was going to feed the cat. It was basically his responsibility now, wasn’t it? He could run it off, but that didn’t seem right, what with the two cats causing issues. They had clearly shunned him.
The hatchet was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if it could return to his item box after a set period of time. That would be nice. It had to be around here somewhere, but the question was where.
It took him a bit too long to realize the birds had gone silent. Chirps and rattle had ceased, and he didn’t notice it for a hot second, but when it dawned on him, it was a bit too late.
“RAWWWRRGGGHHH!”
The cat hit him out of nowhere, ripping his back open from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, scoring across his spine, and his eyes went wide as he faceplanted in the dirt.
He couldn’t move.
Something was severed.
“REWIND!” he shouted, and prayed it wasn’t too late.
It wasn’t. In a moment, he was standing where he had been before, and he spun just in time to completely bitch-slap the cat down into the ground. It hit hard, carving a path through the dirt, and Cillian whirled as the other lashed out with its whip-like tail, scoring a long gouge over his chest, and he swore as he sprang back once, twice, three times.
His bra was probably wrecked, and couldn’t the damned thing just take them off if it was going to aim like that?
The two cats were now circling him, growling lowly, and Cillian slid his foot back through the upturned dirt. They could strike at any moment---
A tail attack, and he caught it just beneath the barb and yanked, though every instinct screamed at him to not grab a cat’s tail. Heedless of the internal alarm, he seized it at the base and put his back into the movement, slamming the cat into the ground and leaping on it to get it by the throat, but it was too late. The other sprang on him, sending them both rolling as rocks and grass whipped around his exposed skin, but the cloak caught the majority of the impact. Cillian rolled a bit further than the cat, smacking his head on a rock. He stumbled to his feet and dropped into the base fighting stance Julius had taught him, hands up to protect his face.
The two cats were circling again. One swiped at him, and Cillian danced back, then the other lunged, and he kicked it in the face, sending it flying. The first cat sprang on him, and it was all too much for Cillian to keep up with. They both went down, the claws digging into his cloak. He landed a flat-handed punch on the thing’s jaw, snapping its head back before he went with the tried-and-true method of kicking up at the soft underbelly. Once, twice, three times, and it yowled and tried to swipe at him, but he caught it with the gleaming claws inches from his face.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Cillian stared at the gleaming claws with wide, wide eyes, and then slowly looked up at the cat, who seemed about as confused as he was that he wasn’t doing anything. His brain went blank, and then he spat in the cat’s eyes.
That was the most disgusting thing he had ever done in his life, but it had the intended effect. The cat leapt off of him, rubbing at its eyes with one massive paw, and Cillian took advantage of the distraction to spring on top of it and get it around the neck.
Make it quick, make it quick, make it quick---
Crack.
The cat slumped down on the ground and Cillian rolled off of it to let his head whip left, right, only to realize the other cat was nowhere to be seen.
Shit. Look for tracks, look for tracks, look for---
The cat came out of nowhere, slamming into him bodily, and the two went rolling yet again as Cillian screamed and clawed at its eyes. The cat yowled but Cillian ended up on top by some miracle.
Snap.
Done.
It was done, and Cillian’s chest was heaving lightly. He was now covered in a sheen of sweat, feeling disgusting and sticky. Both cats were firmly dead and already shimmering, and Cillian, still perched on one body, fell through the air to land right on his ass. Two more hunks of meat wrapped in butcher’s paper landed beside him, and, well.
His cat needed to be fed.
But maybe he should leave it? The level should be ending now.
Oh, shit, he needed to find the damned hatchet before it ended.
Congratulations!
You have completed the bonus objectives: kill three with your bare hands!
You have leveled up!
You have leveled up!
… Didn’t he go up two levels each last time? Also, didn’t it normally say he completed the level?
… The reality of his situation descended on him, and Cillian stood up and stared down at bright yellow flowers swaying in the wind. Tears were springing to his eyes, and he pursed his lips.
“No,” he decided simply and promptly flopped down on the ground, crossed his arms, and stared up at the sky. “I SAID NO!”
It wasn’t even that he was attached to the blasted cat. It wasn’t about that at all.
No, no. It was about the sheer cruelty of giving it the capacity to trust, the ability to feed it, to pet it, to love it, and then you just had to kill it anyway.
No.
He simply would not be doing that.
Julius could bitch if he wanted to, but Cillian wasn’t going to be doing that.
“You’re not ruining me,” he said out loud, not sure who he was talking to, but someone was in charge of this fucking nightmare of a tower. Someone was, and what had Julius said? This was a place of man’s hubris or something like that? Abruptly, he came to his feet, spread his arms, and really started to scream. “YOU’RE NOT RUINING ME, YOU HEAR?!”
The Manager of Time is watching you with concern.
“What the fuck is this?” he screamed and swung at the pop-up, his hand passing through it harmlessly. “You think I give a shit?! You think I care? No! I’m not fucking doing it! You’re not…! You’re not gonna do this to me!”
Hubris, huh?! Hubris? He’d fucking show them hubris. He’d show them exactly what hill he was going to be dying on today. And tomorrow, and the next, and however fucking long it would take them to figure out he wasn’t going to let them even start to turn him into a monster.
“YOU WANNA SEE SOME CRAZY SHIT?!” he screamed, his voice going borderline hoarse, and kicked uselessly at a bundle of meat. “I’LL SHOW YOU!!! I’LL SHOW YOU THE CRAZIEST SHIT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN!! WILL THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY, HUH?!”
A sob bubbled up and Cillian flopped onto his ass, burying his face into his knees as he wept into his thighs.
He couldn’t do this.
He couldn’t do this.
The cat had laid on his feet. Didn’t even try to eat him. It had to be so hungry, but it was lonely. And Cillian knew loneliness. How could he possibly kill something like that? How could they even ask him to do that?
No.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
They weren’t going to do this to him.
They could strike him with lightning, put him through hell, but they weren’t going to do this to him. He wouldn’t allow it.