Iliya wasn’t a very gifted man. Every time he tried to create art his hands would form illegible blobs. Whenever he balanced his own finances, he’d have to lay down for at least an hour after, that’s how bad his head would hurt. And don’t even get him started on his dismal athletic non-ability. There was one thing Iliya could do though, something that came as easily to him as breathing. Iliya had something of a talent for analyzing narrative. He had a fierce memory and an even more terrifying sense of curiosity. There wasn’t a well written narrative in existence that Iliya could figure out before its conclusion. It’s what made him so successful at his university- Iliya was becoming known in his literature department for his inventive analysis of narrative structure, and his special interest in recognizing what pieces of dialogue and character actions would say about its writer. This was one of the reasons he and Professor Antoni didn’t get along. The professor was a strong believer in the canon, or agreed upon works that academia as a whole decided had more value. Instead of respectfully disagreeing with his student, he gossiped about Iliya with other professors and refused to meet Iliya’s eye whenever they met outside the classroom.
See, when the professor had met Iliya at the door, there was a reason he chose to mention those poor people burned to death. Professor Antoni could have simply knocked on the door and asked to be let in, saying he lost his key card. A much simpler explanation. But the burn victims were on his mind, so for the professor, who was rushing in that moment, that was the first explanation that came to mind.
Iliya still didn’t know how the professor knew to challenge him. Was he chosen directly and forced to participate? Was there some sort of tracker, or map that led challengers to each other? Iliya waved away that line of thought, it wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was the correlation that the professor had. The game and burnt people were linked to him. Had the professor found a way to burn his opponents to defeat them in a game? Or did they play a game that included something that burned them all to death?
Now, there are lots of ways for a body to burn. Electrocution, extreme heat, and the obvious. Fire.
The cat watched Iliya with undisguised interest as he opened the drawers in the kitchen, pulling out random items like paper towels and small metal utensils. It was a start, but it wasn’t what he was looking for. No matches, and nothing like a small lighter to light things like birthday candles. Iliya cursed his predecessors who had set the microwave on fire one too many times, causing it to be taken away. It would have been so easy to just shove a few spoons in the microwave and let science do its magic. He collected his bundle of items and brought it back to the table with his things. Iliya went into his backpack and took out everything that was inside: his notebook, a folder filled with useless fliers and handouts, and some crumpled up wrappers at the bottom of the bag. Iliya sorted through the wrappers. Thank god that his past self had been lazy enough to shove a handful’s worth of gum wrappers in various pockets of his backpack. He separated the gum wrappers from the empty chip bags and candy wrappers, and put all the paper products from the paper towels to the papers he had been grading into his backpack. He nestled the metal objects in between, hoping that they wouldn’t clink together as he walked.
The only piece of paper left out of his backpack was the hasty map Iliya had made earlier. Iliya flipped to where he had drawn the first floor of the Garrison building. The staircase that led from the first floor to the second, where the kitchen Iliya and the Moderator were, was on the far right side of the building. Next to the staircase was a hall of faculty offices. At the end of the hall, the building had the formal entrance, complete with a desk where visitors could check in. On the left was the student lounge, an open space with soft couches and a few desks with outlets for students who wanted to stay in the building between classes, or wanted to do some quick revision before class. The floor also had a small, one stall bathroom and storage closet near the offices.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“Want to come?” Iliya asked the Moderator. “You know smoke rises.”
The cat snorted. “Don’t pretend to worry about me, Red. I’ll be watching you from in here. Actually watching, this time. I’m sure I’ll see something worth watching for.” The cat grinned again, sharp fangs glinting against the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. “Don’t disappoint me.”
“I’ll do my best,” Iliya assured. He slid off his boots to reveal mismatched socks, one with a hole. His pinky toe stuck out and touched the floor. Then he grabbed up his backpack and held it in his arms. The gum wrappers and his phone were left securely in his pocket.
Iliya slowly descended on to the first floor, careful to keep his steps as light as possible. By this time, the professor had most likely found the stash of food, unless it was better hidden than Iliya assumed. He wasn’t sure what the game was fully capable of, but the Moderator continued to stress that this was the most simple a game like this could get. That meant the stash of peaches would be in a place that both the professor and Iliya could access. Furthermore, Iliya was pretty sure the stash would be on the first floor. While on the second and third floors, Iliya had not heard anything like footsteps or doors slamming. It was possible the professor had been on the second floor while Iliya was on the third, and vice versa, but how likely was that? No, the professor had probably been on the first floor the whole time, taking a bottom to the top search method to find the stash in Garrison. As he had never ascended, the stash was probably on the first floor.
Moreover, Iliya was pretty sure he knew where the stash would be. Feed the Kitten didn’t have a set location- it moved to wherever the challengers began the game. Unless the game was completely omniscient and omnipresent, which Iliya found impossible, the game wouldn’t have a set idea of where to put the stash. But Iliya knew the game was listening to them at certain times. For example, when Professor Antoni had gotten Iliya to open the door for him, thus starting the game. During this time, the professor had mentioned the lounge, more specifically than any other location in the building. This gave the lounge a narrative presence. All games followed a narrative, whether they were horrible otome apps or violent first person shooters. Locations were mentioned for a reason, and reasons for visiting happened to locations. Of course, this was all conjecture at this point. But Iliya hoped he was right. This would make his goal a lot easier to accomplish.
Iliya ruminated on this until he reached the first floor. He stood, silent. Listening. He couldn’t hear anything yet, but the professor could be waiting for him, still and silent. The man had played other games before, and Iliya didn’t know what kind of bonuses you got for winning. Did he get weapons? Enhanced seasons or physicalities? Knowledge boosts, or things to set traps with? Any of these things were possible, and Iliya was at a disadvantage. He was like a level one player facing a veteran with a blocked out level. And even worse, the veteran knew that Iliya was completely new with nothing to aid him. That could be to my advantage, though.
With careful steps, Iliya went over to the storage closet. Please, he begged, please let it be open. And to his surprise, it actually was. The door to the storage closet was mostly closed, but not enough to have actually locked it. Iliya didn’t know if this was the game helping his tutorial mode along, a mistake of the custodial staff, or if the door was normally kept like this. He just hoped that when he beat this game, he wouldn’t have to rely on dumb luck in the next one. Iliya slowly eased the door open, and lightly placed his backpack down to keep it that way. Nimble fingers danced over the shelves, running over bottles of cleaning supplies and stacks of printer paper before finally finding what he needed. Batteries.