A blinding light flared, startling me awake. I fumbled for the knife on my hip while I scrambled up to a sitting position and put my back to the wall. Chez leaped to his feet and rushed to my side, growling. We stood there, ready to fight for our lives for a full minute before my brain woke up enough to remember that all the lights had been on when the power went out.

I sighed at my overreaction but smiled at my loyal friend. It was good to know that if we were actually attacked, he would stand by my side and not just run away or hide. The importance of the lights being on slowly registered in my mind, and while I was delighted that we had power, it meant I had a lot of work to do today.

I immediately turned off every light in the apartment, unplugged every device and appliance except for the fridge, and turned off the automatic air conditioning and heating. Then I had to repeat the process for every apartment on the floor. With the floor master key, all I had to do was break the alarms, flip some switches and pull some plugs. It didn’t take long, but the real challenge came next. There were 59 floors, and I had no idea how many I would have to power down before the batteries could last through the night on their daily solar power generation, and as far as I knew, most of the floors were swarming with monsters.

All I could do was start at the top and work my way down. I got my gear together, with spears and a heavy wrench in my pant-quiver, my hunting knife on my belt, and basic first-aid supplies and snacks tucked into my pockets. I was fully prepared, but my biggest concern was that Chez still had a nasty infection on his face, could barely use his right arm to eat and was still very weak. I hoped that the floors I was heading to were unoccupied, but there was no way to know for sure. I knew Chez would never stay here by himself if I were gone for as long as I planned to be, and he might get lost trying to find me.

I was conflicted, but in the end, I had to take Chez with me unless I was willing to lock him in a room and hope he didn’t claw through the door before I got back. I gave him a sharpened spear, and we set off into the stairwell. I chose the side that I hadn’t locked and started climbing the stairs, locking the doors to each floor as we passed until I arrived at the door to the penthouse suite, but the door in this stairwell was just as unyielding as its twin on the other side. Poor Chez was struggling, but at least we wouldn’t have to go up any higher. It was all downhill from here.

We walked back down to floor 59, and I took a lap around the hall. There were no damaged doors or any other evidence of goblin activity, so I broke into the maintenance room. The key was there, and if this had been a real game, I would have laughed at the repetitive level design. As it was real life and the consistency allowed me to expedite my mission, I was simply grateful to the dutiful maintenance staff for returning the master keys to their proper place on each floor.

I grabbed some blankets out of the first apartment I opened and got Chez settled down in a corner of the hallway before I got to work. I would take inventory of food and other supplies later. For now, all I cared about was conserving power, and soon the only things still running on that floor were refrigerators. Floors 58 and 57 were handled just as quickly, though my keyring was getting heavier. Do a lap to check for intruders, grab the key, turn shit off. It was easy work, but floor 56 was different.

Halfway through my lap around the hallway, I smelled something rank, and as I turned the next corner, I saw a few doors had been broken through near the stairwell. There were three holes, all goblin-sized, and I quickly drew out a spear. If it had been a single apartment that had been compromised, I would have happily charged in knowing that my back was secure and I could retreat at any time, but if I chose wrong or there were goblins in more than one of the apartments, they could circle behind me and trap me inside. If Chez was in better condition and we could communicate better, I might have him stand guard over the other holes with his spear, trapping the enemies in their dens.

I walked to the maintenance room while I pondered my options, as I would need the master key unless I wanted to try squeezing into a goblin hole on my hands and knees. As I was grabbing the key, I saw a power drill and a box of screws on the workbench and knew what I could do to trap the bastards in there.

I started searching apartments for scrap wood, but unless I wanted to start sawing apart tables, there wasn’t much I could use. I was just about to check the tool room for a saw when I saw a bed and remembered the wooden slats that often supported them. The first bed I checked had metal supports, but the second had the wood I needed. I picked up as many as I could carry, and set them down as quietly as I could near the apartments, and grabbed a box of screws, the drill, and a screwdriver head for the drill.

As soon as I started screwing the first slat onto the door, I heard angry screeching and grumbling from inside, and I rushed to my work. I stood to the side, in a way that I could see all three doors, and put screws in as far away from the hole as the boards could reach. I didn’t want one of the little green bastards to gut me with a knife while I was trapping them.

A green head popped out of the far door for a second before it darted back inside, and I wondered if he and his friends would be brave enough to charge out. Once I had four slats screwed in on one side, I grabbed four screws and rushed to secure them while constantly flipping my head back and forth to ensure I wasn’t about to be ambushed.

Next, I moved on to the middle door, and halfway through a green arm darted out with a knife, wildly flailing but not reaching anywhere close to me. Chez dutifully stabbed forward with his spear, and I heard a scream from the other side as the hand vanished back into the hole. I quickly finished barring the middle door. The third and final door was secured uneventfully despite knowing that there was at least one goblin inside. I readied one of my spears over my shoulder and pushed the door open into the apartment.

As soon as I saw green, I hurled my spear. Three goblins were waiting, spears raised, about six feet from the door. My spear caught one in the shoulder, and it went down screaming. The other two charged me, but I drew a second spear to fend them off. My arms were half again as long as theirs were, and with my greater reach, the little bastards couldn’t come close. They made feints and a few lunges, but neither of the beasts was willing to fully commit to an attack and risk their lives. Of course, I wasn’t willing to risk my life either, so I backed off and shut the door.

I counted to thirty, spear in hand, and then threw the door open again, hurling my spear. The wounded goblin had been helped up by his comrades, and my spear pulled from its shoulder, but my second strike was not aimed at that one. My spear pierced through the back of one of the goblins helping, and now only a single goblin remained uninjured. The first goblin I had hit turned and ran deeper into the apartment, and its comrade turned to face me in shock. I readied another spear and threw. I missed, and my spear flew wide.

The goblin was suddenly inspired and gleeful now that its enemy was unarmed. It charged while I frantically drew out another spear, but the beast covered those few short feet far too quickly and stabbed me just above my hip. The goblin chittered happily at his success, but then I heard a furious roar at my side as Chez rammed his wooden spear through the other goblin’s chest. The feral goblin stared at Chez as if it couldn’t believe what it was seeing. Its beady eyes stared, demanding to know why its kin was working for the enemy as it coughed and spattered blood all over the floor.

I patted Chez’s head in thanks. In only two short days, he had proven to be a loyal companion. I groaned as I pulled the spear from my side and hoped the damage was minor, but the blood was gushing out far too quickly. I had to wrap this up quickly.

Skill Improved: Thrown Weapons Thrown Weapons has reached level 2 Skill Improved: Pain Tolerance Pain Tolerance has reached level 4

I swiped away the pop-ups and stalked into the room. The goblin that had speared me was dead, but the one I caught in the back with my second throw was still alive. I stabbed its throat with my spear as I passed. There was at least one goblin still alive. I searched the apartment. The living area and kitchen were clear. The bathroom was empty so that only left the bedroom.

As I opened the door to the bedroom, the wounded goblin lunged at me. I awkwardly shoved it aside with the shaft of my spear and then speared it through its good shoulder before it could lunge again. It howled pitifully but, with both shoulders crippled, could only muster a feeble resistance as I slashed its throat with my knife.

Part of me was sickened by my actions, and a tiny voice kept nagging that if I helped them, they could be like Chez. Focusing on the couple the goblins had murdered and started to eat was the only thing that kept my hands steady as I checked the closet to ensure the battle was truly finished. I knew what the beasts were capable of and knew that Chez was an exception. He had approached me, surrendered completely without a fight, and proven himself to be a loyal companion.

If another goblin surrendered, I might take a chance again, or at least escort them to the nearest stairwell. At the same time, I couldn’t give them a chance to. The only reason I had survived this long is by striking first when they were spread out or distracted. If I tried to give them a chance to surrender, they would have time to prepare.

Chez’s existence challenged my conviction that all Goblins were evil, and I was in the right to preemptively slaughter them, but I knew that I couldn’t stop. I needed to secure food for my long-term survival, and they had already progressed much too far up the tower for comfort. Even with the five floors, I had secured, the non-perishable foods wouldn’t last forever. The loss of electricity was an inconvenience, but it reminded me that the water supply was finite. All it would take was one broken pipe, and I was fucked.

My objectives remained the same. I had to drive the goblins out of the building, and get strong enough to roam the hellscape that was once San Francisco. I told myself I had no other choice as I stepped over their bloody corpses.

I left the dead where they lay and retreated to an apartment on the far side of the floor to rest and treat my wound. I knew that treating piercing wounds was more complicated than simply sterilizing and stitching, but that was as far as my knowledge took me. As soon as I finished stitching, the blood flow lessened slightly, and I thanked the bonus I had gotten for my first aid. Blood continued to seep out between the stitches, and I worried that an artery had been severed. All I could do was keep applying pressure and hope that my hibernation ability was enough to save me.

I was in too much pain to sleep, so I sat in a recliner and started trying to teach Chez more words. Practicality demanded we start with commands that I might need in a fight. We practiced stay again, and I taught him to come, follow, stop, and go. It was a bit of a mess, as I have never tried to teach a language before, but it only took one success for him to understand. I had found a pack of Oreos and used them as treats.

Next we moved on to weapons, which were much easier as I had something to point to, though he struggled with pronunciation. Spear became “Zeer,” knife became “Naff,” and club became “Crab.” We continued to practice new words until I grew too weak and stumbled over to the bed. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to take me, praying my hibernation would keep me alive.