I definitely ran.

  I walked up, DIY Stabby Pole in hand, the term in the system for the dull-tipped spear I’d made, got ready to battle…and ran in shame. I’d screamed, turned tail, and gotten the hell out of there. At this point, Kym was probably faring much better than I was.

  Sure, I’d gotten into a few scrappy fights in my time and fought with my brothers, but this was a different level. This was a freaking monster, of all things, with claws and teeth and one job—to end me. This wasn’t the sort of situation I really wanted to blindly wander into. Wander around? Yes. But there was one path in this whole place, and it led right to Mr. Bow Tie. He was the gatekeeper.

  I really wished I could find the key master.

  What I’d learned by watching him from a bush was that he had an extreme fascination with fire. The flames seemed to rivet the creature. He sat on that log, slightly hunched (pretending to be an old man to fool me, I was sure), and stared. He rarely moved.

  Unless I got too close, of course. Then he was all pep. He ran after me like a child seeing an ice cream truck. And with the polka music as our soundtrack, maybe he was.

  Assured I could beat him in a footrace if I had a headstart, I’d tried the ol’ “I’m super obvious except when I’m crouching” technique. I’d crouch-walked out of my bush and moved closer, getting nearly five feet away, undetected.

  Once I stood up, though? It was like the camo came off. That monster startled as though he’d seen a ghost and chased me like he was trying to create one.

  He didn’t seem to have a weapon besides the teeth and claws…and his Murderous Intent.

  If I could only get at my own Murderous Intent. I was sure I had some, somewhere. It must be hidden behind Crippling Fear.

  While pretending I wasn’t stalling, I’d picked this whole place clean. I’d met another couple plant monsters, as well. They seemed to drop different stuff every time. I’d even taken the time to try, unsuccessfully, to shove the golden chests into my inventory.

  Without anything left to do, I now had to face Mr. Bow Tie.

  He sat on his log, slightly hunched and not fooling anyone. His gaze focused on his favorite entertainment, crackling in front of him, while his outfit made jokes where he was the punch line.

  Here we go.

  I took a deep breath and executed my extensively practiced crouch. There was not one bug in this place that now saw me coming. Nor was there a bug in this faux-world that wouldn’t dart at my face if given half the chance.

  I aimed right for the center of Mr. Bow Tie’s back.

  I heard a snuffle. A snort. The monster leaned to the side.

  I froze with my DIY Stabby Pole held at the ready. Ready for what? I wasn’t exactly sure. Usually, it was turning tail and running in shame, but this time I was supposed to charge.

  While indecision gnawed at me, the monster lifted a cheek and let out a loud fart. I half expected him to then fall over dead, because every time I killed something, a ripper stopped the polka. Not this time, though. The monster scratched his cheek—the lower one—stretched, and then resumed his favorite pastime.

  The computer running this place had a strange fascination with flatulence.

  I resumed the sneaky, sneaky crouch-walk. One foot in front of the other. Getting close now. No music started. That was a good sign.

  The fire crackled merrily. The monster snorted. And then snuffled. That didn’t seem to mean anything. Closer still, and my DIY Stabby Pole was at the ready. My knife was on deck, ready for my quick draw. My heart started to speed up the closer I got. Sweat formed on my brow. Still, I held my crouch, nice and slow, hidden in very plain sight.

  Activate: Murderous Intent!

  “Die, monster, die!” I leapt forward, and suddenly I was in an intricate spin move where I twirled around without my consent, jumped higher than my high school basketball coach had ever seen, and slammed downward with a well-placed blow that I did not, in any way, initiate.

  My DIY Stabby Pole cracked the monster on the head. He issued an ear-splitting scream, the polka started with gusto, and I landed in a very cool martial-arts-style attack pose. How my thighs weren’t screaming, I did not know, but I held that pose wishing I had a friend here with their camera at the ready to finally get a candid of me actually looking good for once.

  The monster poofed into smoke, the fart noise ended the polka, as such things usually did, and I was left posing next to a log with a pointy stick.

  My screen popped up immediately.

  Congratulations! You’ve unlocked [Sparkle Toes Sneaky Polka Pounce]! Enemies are confused, allies are embarrassed, and you are…oddly proud. It takes great patience and finesse, along with a complete lack of self-respect, to execute that move properly. A single strike leaves your weakest enemies in shambles and your strongest enemies slightly perturbed.

  Attack boost: +50%

  Style points: +100 (sequins not included)

  Dignity remaining: 0

  I finally straightened up. This time, a large stone chest appeared in front of me. Except I was behind the log, and the log wasn’t flat. The chest wobbled, tilted, and then fell and rolled into the fire.

  “Really?”

  I sighed and stepped over the log. My DIY Stabby Pole went onto my back. The fire’s glow didn’t feel all that hot. Maybe the flames weren’t real?

  “Crap apples!” I yanked my foot away.

  Yes, they were real, and every bit “that hot.” They might not emanate the same amount of heat, but they had some serious bite to them.

  Three globs appeared in my vision on the upper left. A quarter of one flared before disappearing.

  Ah. I did have a certain amount of lives or health or whatever. If I got hurt, that potion, and maybe the cooked eggs, could help heal me. Good to know. Would’ve been nice to know before I’d stuck my foot in the fire willy-nilly, but fine. This place clearly wanted us to learn things the hard way.

  I edged around to the other side of it and contemplated dousing the fire. The problem was that I hadn’t seen any water around this place. I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since I got here, and it didn’t seem to matter. With a pantry full of bugs, I didn’t question it.

  Maybe I could push the chest out.

  I pulled out my DIY Stabby Pole and used the end to shove at the chest. That mere touch and the top sprang open like the others had. Light flared, then glowed.

  I bent to peer in. There was no way to tell what item lay inside.

  “Bugger.”

  All I had to do was stick my hand in there and the item would swish into my inventory.

  To do that, I just had to dart my hand through the fire with ninja-like speed so the flames didn’t burn me, and I didn’t lose any more health. No sweat. Maybe I’d get an achievement for my fire-dancing prowess.

  I bent, readied myself, and shot my hand forward. Heat seared, an item went into my inventory, and another piece of glob flashed before disappearing. No achievement came.

  My inventory showed two new items. They flashed across the screen for me to read before being organized into their categories.

  The first was a coin-sized, glittering disc of polished metal attached to a pin. It apparently sparkled in almost unnatural ways, though it currently wasn’t proving it, and boasted doing so even in the blackest of nights. Which was crap, obviously, because dark nights didn’t exist here.

  Reading on, I found it seemed to delight enemies with its sheer fabulousness and was always visible when worn, like a glittering beacon of divine diva. All this to offer +5 charisma when moonwalking away from enemies.

  I assumed charisma was something to make running away in shame a little easier to manage. Whatever worked.

  The other was the Ambusher’s Accordion, which was apparently a weapon. An accordion weapon. It could be used as a bludgeon as well as an instrument (which I would not be learning how to play) and gave me the special skill of [Oompah of Doom].

  “Balls,” I murmured, reading what that was.

  I would need to learn how to play. If I got the melody right, I could lay waste to a field of enemies with the sheer prowess of my magical hands.

  The item came with [Parchment of Learning]. I’d need to practice in order to level up enough to achieve the melody. The more I practiced, the better I became, and the more advanced the enemy I could dominate.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  It was a rare item that needed no explanation, and I was as lucky to have it as unlucky.

  “Sounds like a load of hassle,” I grumbled, putting it all away.

  The next monster in my path had a weapon. Same look and outfit, same goatee and bow tie, same stupid sandals, but now carrying a baseball bat tipped with spikes.

  The setup was similar, with logs surrounding a crackling fire, only this one had something roasting on a spit over the top of it. The monster paced, bat held at his side. He always looked in the direction he faced, but he constantly changed that direction. There would be no sneaking up on this one.

  I’d taken some time to collect items, thinking about my plan of attack. Mr. Batty Bow Tie wandered that clearing, nonstop. He got very close to the trees and bushes surrounding it. If I hid there, I could jump out and surprise attack him as he passed by. It was my best bet.

  Trying to summon my Murderous Intent, I crouched behind a tree, watching. Adrenaline spiked my blood. My hand tightened on the DIY Stabby Pole.

  The monster made another circle. One more.

  Now or never.

  I burst from behind the tree. A strange, maniacal cackle erupted from my mouth, unbidden. My pin gleamed, shooting sparkles into the air in front of me.

  The monster turned to me in straight-faced curiosity, which quickly transformed into startled surprise. He lifted his bat slowly, but I was already on him, my purple bar draining dry as I reached him at a sprint.

  I stopped and swung. My weapon clacked across his head before bursting into splintery shards.

  “Sonuva—” I tapped into my inventory as the monster windmilled a few steps backward. Its red health line decreased by half. It hadn’t dropped the bat, but it had stumbled dangerously close to the fire.

  Fire burned me, so it should burn a monster.

  Yanking out the knife, I darted forward, but instead of chopping at the monster and possibly breaking another weapon, I shoved the creature toward the fire. My cleaver left my hand and manifested onto my back. The monster stumbled back, hit the spit and the meat roasting on the fire, and tumbled into the flames.

  The polka played its merry jig. The monster flailed as flames engulfed it. It jumped up, still holding the danged bat, and then ran around like a character in a movie, flames dancing high.

  I hopped from side to side with my arms out. Surely, touching it would burn me. But I probably needed to end the fight.

  The decision was made for me when the health of the monster ran out and it poofed into smoke. An item levitated in its place, waiting for me to grab it, and, to my extreme delight, the bat with spikes rolled away, unscathed.

  “Yay!” I pranced forward and snatched it up.

  [Spike-Tipped Bat]

  A piece of America’s pastime, only angrier. Achieve greater attack value when striking your enemy while yelling “home run!”

  Special ability: The Grand Slam. Gain +25% damage if opponent’s skull makes a “crack” sound.

  “Ruthless,” I said with a cockeyed grin. This was my highest-valued weapon so far, which made sense, given the spikes. Durability was better, too. Score!

  I slid it into my inventory and grabbed the levitating item. A groan quickly followed.

  “Sandals,” I said, holding the dark beige items in my hand. The disco pin wasn’t half bad, because I did like a little sparkle, but the sandals weren’t even a cute style. It was as though someone entered the sandal market late, looked around, and said, “Whelp, it’s all been done. I guess I’ll try to get fired.”

  And hopefully, they did get fired.

  The wide strap over the foot was sewn together with oddly bunched strips. The front portion of the base didn’t allow enough room for toes, making them hang off the edge, while the back portion extended too far. The construction made it look like the sandal was too big for the foot, and a person just had unnaturally long toes.

  And then I read the description and narrowed my eyes. The computer running this place was clearly making things personal.

  [Pebble Attractors]

  Often called sandals by the grossly uninformed and fashionably obtuse, these slides are pure comfort and classical luxury…

  I huffed. Classical luxury? Who was smoking what, and when would the high wear off so they could regain a little sense?

  I finished reading through it. They offered increased speed for “running away in shame,” and a modicum of defense against attacks from monsters in bow ties. They helped, in other words, and yes, this had just gotten personal.

  “Well.” I slipped them on my feet and stared at my toes hanging over the edges. “My situation just got a whole lot uglier.”

  I collected the roasted meat item and returned to the path.

  ***

  “This would be better with an animal companion,” I murmured as I crouched between two bushes, slightly behind a tree. I leaned to the…right, probably, I didn’t know; stress was confusing me. Three Mr. Bow Ties wandered around a little clearing on the trampled grass. In the corner of their encampment, a fire burned underneath a large pot that didn’t have legs. It just hung in midair, like that was normal.

  Each monster had no originality except for its weapon. One had a proper spear, one a bat without spikes, and one a rusty sword that I wanted so, so badly. Rusty or not, metal beat wood. I bet that thing would do some damage.

  But given that he currently had it and I did not, that damage would be to me. Not ideal.

  My eyes flicked to my health. Still only half a glob was missing from that fire incident. In the day and a half that I’d been traveling in zigzags to this location, hoarding as much as I could, as fast as I could, I had encountered several plant monsters and a couple ambling Mr. Bow Ties. Obviously, the plant monsters were as easy as normal. They never altered their pattern.

  For the Bow Ties, who had sticks or nothing at all, I’d used my Sparkle Toes Sneaky Polka Pounce and knocked them out in one go. Easy-peasy. That skill was first rate. Embarrassing my allies, my ass! I looked awesome doing it. I was sure I did.

  Plus, the more I used it, the more experience I got! More experience meant the attack was stronger, apparently.

  Quite a change from my day job, all this. I did things over and over and over again there. More experience yielded the same paycheck and yearly fruitcake.

  But seriously, hadn’t there been enough movies about the horrors of fruitcake? Was giving that as a holiday bonus really a bonus?

  I fingered the Sequin of Swagger on my sports bra strap.

  So far, I’d only encountered monsters one on one. This clearing had three. With weapons.

  Maybe I could sneak closer, sprint through, and, if they got close to me, moonwalk away. I would go around, but there were cliffs on either side, and I was too afraid to see if the tree climbing phenomena worked on cliff faces. There was no telling how far away the ground was—the sky and beyond was all shrouded in thick fog.

  I bit my lip. No, going around was impossible. But sprinting through and running away in shame? That really did seem like a possibility…

  Except each challenge was building, and I needed better weapons to confront anything beyond this.

  My gaze tracked to the pot over the fire. That was there for a reason. It had to be a way to use the resources I’d hoarded to help me heal from a hard battle. It had to be. I had a couple potions at this point, but the description said they were lame. Several of the food items mentioned hearts. Healing.

  “I can do this,” I whispered, which would land better if I had an animal companion.

  You’ve got this, the animal’s eyes would assure me, even if it was lying to itself and to me.

  “I do,” I would respond, believing the lie. “I definitely do.”

  Instead, I was crouching between two shaking bushes as I made up conversations with fake animals.

  “Okay.” Time for action.

  Maybe instead of an animal, I could create a persona, like Tommy Tombmaker. A tough Bostonian that wasn’t afraid of nobody.

  “I’m gonna woorsh the flooah with ya,” I murmured in a Boston accent, embodying my brother Max. He’d moved to Boston and really run with it. It suited him, though. That guy had no fear of anything. Except maybe getting kicked in the balls.

  Adrenaline amping up, I thought-opened my inventory, because I’d figured out how to do that, and pulled out one of the healing potions. Down the hatch.

  “Good night,” I said as my face contorted. Sour.

  One-quarter of a glob filled back in. I took another to get to full health and then wiped my horribly salivating mouth. Good Lord, that potion was disgusting.

  That done, I pulled out the [Down The Hatch] glass, which had been a reward for collecting twenty eggs. I then plucked out one of the eggs and cracked that sucker into the glass. This was supposed to give me a boost.

  A glance up, catching sight of that sword, and I cracked one more. I could always find more eggs. Better to err on the side of caution. Assuming the boost helped in any way.

  “This is going to be gross.” I swirled the eggs, took a deep breath, and drank them down.

  Thankfully, my retch didn’t bring them back up.

  I shoved the glass back into the inventory, hoped it cleaned itself, and grabbed hold of my best weapon, the Spike-Tipped Bat.

  Music faded in slowly, and it wasn’t the polka for once. No…it was “Eye of the Tiger.”

  Energy filled me, and suddenly I was a GO for launch!

  I burst out from between the bushes faster than I anticipated. Lightning fast. Crazy, silly fast! So fast that I hit the tree with my shoulder and careened off to the left. The monsters noticed me.

  I righted myself and zoomed toward the closest monster, his bat not covered in spikes. Reaching him, I swung as I yelled, “Home run!” The bat struck his arm. He grunted—which was a very dignified way of handling ruthless violence—and poofed out immediately. The eggs and the added attack were no match for such a low-level monster. Awesome!

  I spun. The music throbbed in the clearing now, pulsing in my blood. It took precedence over the polka, and good thing, too. I could fight anyone with this soundtrack!

  Mr. Bow Tie with the spear hurried toward me. The other didn’t intend to wait his turn, though. He wasn’t far behind.

  “Come and get it!”

  I smacked the outstretched spear with my bat to knock it away and stepped into his space. My aim was high, my target plain. “Home run!”

  Crack!

  Direct hit! He poofed into nothing. His spear went tumbling away. “Eye of the Tiger” started to fade and my movements slowed. My boost was wearing off.

  “Oh no,” I breathed as a rusty sword swung toward me.

  I couldn’t get out of the way in time. I couldn’t put up my weapon to block. All I could do was show it the side of my back so that it sliced into a non-vital, kinda meaty part.

  It bashed against me. The swing was not terribly strong, and the edge was, thankfully, dull. Not dull enough, however. It cut into my exposed flesh. White-hot pain ballooned, making me gasp and dragging at my focus. The rest of the music died away, allowing the polka to fill the dead space. Two globs drained from my reserves.

  That was a helluva strike.

  Keep going, I thought desperately. Don’t falter. If you falter, you die.

  Survival mode kicked in, and I swung wildly. “Home run, you trash goblin! Home run!”

  My bat hit its side. It staggered and I advanced, frenzied. Terrified.

  “Home run!”

  Its red line drained away and it poofed into smoke on the next stagger.

  I breathed heavily as I stared down at the levitating item. Pain beat a dull throb in my back. Anger welled up, and I stepped forward and kicked the freaking thing.

  Instead of gratifyingly flying away, the item slipped into my inventory.

  I didn’t bother looking at what it was. I didn’t care. My freaking side hurt.

  I slung my Spike-Tipped Bat to my back and grabbed the sword. It was apparently called the Tetanus Tickler, a fitting name. Swung by a weak enemy, it would only result in a “paper-cut-worthy” wound.

  “Bullcrap,” I murmured.

  I’d had a lot of paper cuts in my time, and they didn’t do much more than sting. Easy to ignore, unless you were making margaritas and the lime attacked you.

  But this?

  My whole side ached—throbbed—and my skin felt unnaturally hot. It had taken two of my three globs. If I had gotten hit a second time, or hit by one of the other monsters, I’d be done for.

  I finished reading the description and learned that if a strong enemy hit me, it would inflict a “debuff” that slowly drained my health down to the last sliver—unless I had some sort of cleansing potion. I didn’t know what a debuff was, but it was clearly a bad thing. During the learning phase, however, the debuff wasn’t active on me.

  If I used the sword, it would debuff my enemy, draining them to death if I waited long enough…and didn’t die in the process.

  That last little bit was an aside, the jerks.

  The sword had been worth fighting for. Now I just needed to get a shield to stave off the next attack.

  Contemplating that, I grabbed up the spear and then the regular bat. Neither was much better than the now-deceased DIY Stabby Pole I’d made. I did still have the knife, and I’d picked up a cleaver as reward for killing one of the monsters.

  Neither of the other levitating items were food, so I just swiped them away when they appeared on my screen. I’d get to that later. Right now, I needed to learn to cook without a kitchen. Tough challenge, given I’d never properly learned to cook with a kitchen.

  It better not be cooking that got me killed in this place…