Jonny crouched in the small storage area, immersed in thought. He surmised that he was in the back corner of the house due to the position of the trap door in the roof. Supposedly, the Lord’s bedroom was right next to the room he was currently occupying. If he were the owner of this house, he would place one guard at each end of the hallway. If that were the case, then one guard would be to Jonny’s left as he exited the room and one would be to his right. The door opened into the cramped room so there would be no way to open the door and slam it into the guard on the left. This put Jonny in the unenvious position of being between two alert mercenaries. They were sure to be large and heavily muscled as personal guards tend to be. Jonny was confident that he could take the two in an even fight, but he was not confident that he could incapacitate the guards without raising an alarm and letting his mark potentially escape.

As Jonny was trying to figure out how he was going to proceed, a large crashing sound could be heard from the first floor. A spike of adrenaline shot through Jonny’s core. Jonny’s mind began to work in overdrive. The crash downstairs sounded like a broken window and either fate was interceding on his behalf, a fact that he very much doubted, or Mouse had decided to provide a distraction. Jonny silently cheered the new development. He heard shouts of alarm from his left and his right and Jonny grinned because his educated guess had been correct. Loud footprints passed his door travelling from left to right and at their passing, Jonny silently opened the door to the storage room. He guessed correctly that the drama from downstairs easily masked the opening of the door. Jonny stayed crouched with his back to the wall next to the door. A long knife was clasped lightly in one of his hands.

As he waited, he heard a woman’s voice.

“Oliver! Horace! What the bloody hell is going on?”

A sheepish voice replied. “Sorry Madame, Al said a brick crashed through one of the windows downstairs. They saw a kid and they took off to catch to catch ‘im.”

A couple of seconds of silence passed and Jonny could feel the venom in the air as the woman replied.

“Well Horace, why don’t you go wake up the relief if they’re not awake already and. GO. HELP. THEM!”

The last were delivered in a shrill tone that sent Horace sprinting down the stairs in pursuit. Jonny heard the second pair of footsteps, presumably Oliver’s begin to follow Horace downstairs. Jonny was about to celebrate his good fortune when the Lord’s voice rang out again.

“and where the bloody hell are you going!?”

Oliver, obviously not much more intelligent than his fellow guard spoke hesitantly.

“Well…uh…madame… I was going to go ‘elp ‘orace.”

The Lord practically hissed her response.

“Get back to guarding the floor you mindless cretin. Does it really make sense to leave the manor entirely unguarded because of a single child asking for a slow and tortuous death?”

By the end of the question she was screaming again. Obviously, not waiting for a response, the Lord turned back into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Oliver stood there for a moment as if unsure where to go and then he ponderously walked back in the direction he came. Jonny carefully prepared himself for the hulk's arrival. Based upon the man’s voice, Jonny had a solid idea of how tall the man was and the approximate location of his target. As the man came within a paces distance from the open door, Jonny rose from his crouch and in one movement sent an arm swinging with the point of the dagger leading. The man had time to open his eyes with surprise before the blade sank all the way to the hilt in his throat. The blade was propelled with such force that that it nicked the vertebrae and sent a vibration through Jonny’s arm. Bright venous blood began welling around the wound.

Jonny retracted the kinfe so that the blood would begin to rush from the wound and down into the throat. The man’s own blood would keep his death relatively quiet. Jonny noticed that he had not nicked any of the large arteries in the side of the neck so Jonny assumed the man would die from drowning before he died from blood loss. The startled man met Jonny’s eyes in panic as he reached for his throat. The shock was too much for the man and he fainted. Jonny awkwardly caught the body on the way down and began dragging it towards the storage room. A trail of blood snaked on the ground as Jonny stowed the body.

Jonny placed the body propped against a barrel and let gravity finish the job. As Jonny watched the man’s life bleed away, he began to feel sick. Jonny abruptly threw up the food he had eaten earlier. He tried covering his mouth to dampen the sound of the vomit and fell to his knees from vertigo. A pounding began in his head. The pain kept ramping up and felt like crashing waves of agony on the inside of his skull. Jonny couldn’t understand what was happening to him. He kept thinking about the blood. The blood that was now pooling around him took on an insidious brightness as it spread into the influence of the lantern. Jonny couldn’t look away from the blood. The pain in his gut and in his head kept increasing. Forcing Jonny to elicit a low groan. Suddenly, it stopped.

Immersion has been broken. Avatar is experiencing extreme discomfort and stress. Removing subject from simulation… Removal has failed. [???] has intercepted the removal process. Avatar must continue simulation.

John opened his eyes. His face was wet and sticky for some reason and his surroundings were dim with only the light of a small lantern illuminating the space. As John sat up, it all came back to him. Patsy. The boxing ring. Mouse. Elizabeth. Smiley. The Heist. The Queen’s Noose. Grimes. The Lord of Seven Dials. It all came rushing back in episodic fashion. He had been there. He had done those things. John had a difficult time reconciling who he was with what he had done. Looking around, all he could see was the blood. It was everywhere. It coated the floor. It coated his hands. John belatedly realized that the stickiness on his face must be blood as well. When a muted cry he began to scrub the blood off of his face. His attempts were unsuccessful and he just smeared the blood further. John was revolted. All he could think about was the moment the knife plunged into the man’s throat and his subsequent look of surprise. That man had a name. He was Oliver and now he was no more.

Something deep within him snickered in derision. His head began to pound violently. Part of him wanted to say “fuck it” and then finish the job. The other part of him was deeply disturbed by the life he had just taken. Collective took this moment to intrude upon his thoughts.

John. It has come to my attention that you are experiencing elevated levels of stress and emotional trauma. As a safety precaution I have tried to forcibly remove you from the simulation but something is blocking my attempts. I cannot eject you safely but I can help you to succeed within this simulation and manually escape. Would you like me to do that? Due to your current position, I have turned on your Neural Communication Network. You may now speak to me mind-to-mind so that you do not reveal your position. Additionally, as recompense for allowing you to be in danger during a protected zone, I have awarded this ability to you freely.

John was stunned from his spiral of grief and self-loathing. He had never heard of Collective giving away anything freely, much less such a valuable ability. He was constantly amazed at Collective’s cognitive abilities. Everyone knew that Collective was merely a highly advanced computer but this sort of language seemed almost…empathetic.

Collective, what kind of help are you talking about?

Well John, you have earned a plethora of ability, skill, and level updates. Levelling up has been known to have a soothing effect on the human psyche. I can allow these updates to happen and it is likely that you will feel whole enough to complete the mission. If you refuse, it is likely that you will die within this simulation and it will continue until you go insane.

Collective paused and John sensed that it seemed troubled.

This is not how this simulation usually goes. I will have to analyze what went wrong. It isn’t usually this immersive.

John doubted that Collective had found very much in its long life that it could not quantify and explain down to the smallest cell. If Collective, a being of almost omnipotent and omnipresent capabilities was troubled, then John should be downright terrified.

I’ll take the updates, Collective.

Very well, John. Good luck.

Blue glowing prompts quickly appeared in his vision and John quickly viewed them. Something inside of him was rushing him to hurry. He felt like he didn’t have much time left.

Ability Acquired! Stealth: The basic principles of absolute stealth have been available to you. Stealth consists of the ability to sense the baseline of your environments, blend into your surroundings, move silently, and understanding the principles of detection. Continue leveling to decrease detection radius and increase small bonuses to Endurance, Agility, Intelligence, and Dexterity. Current Detection Radius: -5%. Current Stat Bonus: 0.25. Skill Acquired! Sneak Lvl 1: Sneak can be used to evade all forms of detection. However, success depends upon the level of Sneak in combination with Endurance, Agility, Dexterity, and Intelligence against your opponent’s detection radius as determined by their Intelligence, Wisdom, Willpower, and Focus. Additionally, any advanced attributes such as Perceptive or any skills in relation to sight will affect these modifiers. Skill Acquired! Throw Lvl 1: Is a skill used to propel weapons toward an opponent. This can be done with large weapons like shields and spears or small projectiles like knives and darts. Success and accuracy depends upon the level of this skill and the Mastery of the weapon attempting to be thrown in addition to stat modifiers. Skill Acquired! Ambush Lvl 1: Ambush is a skill used to surprise an enemy with an attack. Success depends upon the level of this skill, Stealth, Sneak, and stat modifiers. Ambush ensures a guaranteed critical hit. Ability Leveled Up! Adaptability is now Lvl 2! Ability Leveled Up! Knife Mastery is now Lvl 4! Ability Leveled Up! Unarmed Combat is now Lvl 3! Ability Leveled Up! Inner Focus is now Lvl 3! Due to your Adabtability, Strength has increased by 1, Focus has increased by 1, Vigor has increased by 1, Endurance has increased by 2, Dexterity has increased by 2, Agility has increased by 2, Willpower has increased by 1, Intelligence has increased by 2, Wisdom has increased by 1, and Charisma has increased by 1. You have levelled up! You are now Lvl 4! You have (9) stat points to distribute. You have levelled up! You are now Lvl 5! You have (12) stat points to distribute.

After dismissing the prompts, John felt superhuman. Not only did the rush from the levels hit him at once, but he had never felt this powerful in his life. His limbs were more fluid and his mind seemed to be functioning at a higher level. He felt an intense energy pervade every cell of his body. With the rush of stat and level gains, his fear of his current situation faded away. Surprisingly, he felt whole. His higher intelligence was helping him to reconcile the two identities within him. He felt the lessons from Jonny settling into his character like an old friend. Thus, to an outside observer, John’s previously awkward and stilted movement became more like those of the Ghost. He didn’t have the same lethal fluidity, but he wouldn’t be mistaken for an easy target either. John figured that his adaptability would assist in the integration of the Ghost’s skills into his own avatar.

He pulled up his character sheet with a thought.

Satisfied, John dismissed the sheet and rose silently to his feet. Even Jonny was not as quick and as powerful as John was now. After all, Jonny was only human and John…John was something more than human. John found himself no longer revolted by the sight of the blood. If anything, it felt right in some way. The person, Oliver, was in his way. He was merely a means to the end. Sometimes you hit the bottom of the cliff and bounced off of the rocks. That was life. Or rather, the end of a life.

Satisfied that his earlier weakness hadn’t been discovered, John stealthily entered the hallway. Reaching the door to his target, he surreptitiously opened the door and entered the bedroom. The door hadn’t made even a creak to betray his presence and John closed the door behind him. He didn’t want a guard to casually come back from chasing Mouse and discover him. The room itself was richly appointed. A large four poster bed dominated the room. It was plushy decorated with hanging silks and expansive blankets. In the corner of the room was a vanity desk that included an ornate mirror and all of the accoutrements of a well-to-do woman. The amount of wealth in that desk was mind-boggling to John. Most people in this time and place could not afford a fraction of the gilt on the mirror. The rest of the room, while well-endowed with expensive and tasteful furniture of the time, did not attract John’s notice. He was here for one reason.

As John drew closer to the bed, he drew his second knife. The swish of the blade being drawn could barely be heard but John winced at the sound. The first had been left in the pool of Oliver’s blood. John could retrieve it later and it was more important that John had a fresh blade to avoid the inevitable slippage caused by the slickness of the blood than it was to maintain weapon discipline. He waited to see if the weapon’s noise had alerted his target. She was facing away from him and all John could see was the black shadow of her hair. Noticing no movement and hearing only the heavy, regular breathing that denoted deep sleep, Jonny drew within striking range.

Just as Jonny drew close, a loud shrieking startled him. John was not experienced enough to avoid the back step that had his hurried swing, miss and slice through the empty air. The place the woman had once occupied was no longer the same. Instead, a kick shot out from the confused mess and landed in John’s gut. The air rushed from his lungs as he back peddled in order to catch his balance. The Lord of St. Giles, removed herself from the bed and stood proudly. In one hand she clutched a wickedly curved knife. It was made for slicing more than stabbing. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship but that was not what held John’s attention. In the other hand she held a small pistol.

John raised his knife in a defensive positon but he knew he was severely outmatched. Criminals during this period didn’t usually use firearms. The penalty for having them was too severe for most criminals to bother. John had wildly underestimated his opponent and he felt like he was about to pay the price. The woman’s ice cold voice penetrated the darkness.

“Drop your knife.”

John complied quickly. He still had a host of knives secreted on his person. All he needed was a moment’s distraction and he could draw and throw one of the knives on his thigh into the Lord’s throat. He must have betrayed his killing intent as the Lord took no chances.

“Turn around and face the wall away from me. You will walk outside the door being careful not to appear to leave my sight for a moment. If you hesitate to comply with my orders I will fucking shoot your bloody brains out.”

John sensed the seriousness of the situation and complied with the woman’s demands. She led him to the first floor and then further down a flight of stairs into a reinforced basement. The room was pitch dark but the Lord navigated the way with ease. While John was at the bottom of the stairs, she remained at the top and turned to call loudly.

“Guards! We have an intruder!”

Heavy stomping could be heard in a corner of the house above John and two thugs joined the Lord at the top of the landing. She quickly disseminated orders.

“You two secure that man and ensure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

John’s back was still turned and so all he heard was the stamping of feet down the stairs before the whistling of a club struck him in the back of the head. His vision faded to black.

An indeterminable time later, John groggily regained consciousness. His first observation was that he was in the basement of the Lord’s house. It was now brightly lit with candles on sconces along the walls. He was in the center of the room and tied to a chair. Directly in front of him was the staircase leading up to the first floor and on the left a long wooden table adorned with various implements for torture could be seen. John had not noticed the table in the darkness and the sight of sickeningly curved or pointed instruments had all manner of thoughts running through his brain. John was surprised to note that he felt a vague unease about the whole situation. It had not been the first time he had been tortured. That thought scrambled his preceding thoughts as he realized that in fact he had not been tortured before. That had been Jonny. This realization frightened him more than his current situation.

Panning his gaze from left to right he found the Lord, by herself, smirking in the corner and the reason for the smirk was on John’s right. She had caught Mouse. He was bound and gagged in a chair next to him. His head drooped against the bonds and his hair was plastered to his skull with trickling blood. He looked small and vulnerable. The usually hard lines in the kid’s face had been softened by unconsciousness. If one were to ignore the blood, the boy looked as if he were peacefully sleeping. The incongruence these observations incensed him. John presumed that Mouse had received much of the same treatment that John himself did. Thus, John felt himself become irrationally angry. How dare this woman attack an innocent in such a way. Mouse was just a boy caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He still had a whole life to lead. John was about to verbalize his righteous indignation when the Lord began to speak.

“Who sent you? What were you trying to accomplish?”

John realized that he did not want to provide any information to the witch. She would have to kill him first. He said as much with his eyes. His anger didn’t keep him from noticing the pyramid tied on a leather thong around her neck. It was the training sim! It looked odd now. In real life, the sim had glowed with an inner purple hue. Now,

“It’s going to be that way is it? Alright then.”

The Lord briskly walked over to the table and selected a small curved knife. After inspecting it she walked slowly towards the unconscious boy. She turned and held my gaze.

“Don’t do this.” John couldn’t summon the anger he previously felt. Instead he just felt sad. There was no universe in which this scenario ended itself peacefully.

Grinning, the Lord gripped the hair of the boy and jerked his face upward with one hand. The other took the curved knife and sliced it across the cheek of the boy. It was not even a life-threatening threatening wounds but the pain brought Mouse gasping awake. He looked around in wild panic. He was obviously discombobulated. As if by reflex, tears started flowing from Mouse’s eyes and the mixed with the blood seeping from his cheek and into the gag covering his mouth. Mouse’s muffled protests made John’s heart ache. John flexed and unflexed his muscles, trying to loosen his bonds in some way. The movement proved futile and he grit his teeth and he tried to free himself from the ropes surrounding him. Even his feet were bound to the heavy wooden chair he found himself on.

Tears of frustration appeared in John’s own eyes as Mouse met his gaze fearfully. Seeing that she had elicited exactly what she needed, the Lord repeated herself while still gripping Mouse’s hair. Her knife hung dangerously close to Mouse’s exposed throat.

“Who sent you? What were you trying to accomplish?”

John didn’t see any point in trying to lie but he felt an intense attachment to Mouse. “I’ll tell you everything once you set him free.” John’s voice didn’t sound confident even in his own ears.

The Lord seemed to consider John’s request. Even going to far as to tap the tip of her knife against her chin playfully. It left a small drop of blood and John found his attention draw to the small drop of Mouse’s blood on her face. Seeing his devoted attention, the Lord grinned cruelly. With a smooth motion the blade fell towards Mouse’s neck. John screamed “No!” as the knife moved in slow motion. Mouse’s eyes widened as the knife started on one side of his neck and raggedly tore into his flesh from one artery to the other. John clinically noted that the cut itself was professional. It was difficult to slice both carotid arteries in one go. John watched the ight fade out of Mouse’s eyes as the blood quickly fountained from his severed arteries. It was over in only a couple minutes but those minutes felt like a lifetime for John.

The Lord merely watched the emotions play about John’s face. She smiled again. “You know he had to die. He broke one of my windows! One of those windows was worth ten street rats just like him.”

John didn’t respond to her words. She continued. “Now. Who sent you and what were you trying to accomplish?”

She got closer and peered into John’s face. She was only a few inches away from John’s seemingly defeated face. John summoned his last bit of anger and tossed his head back and then smashed it into the Lord’s face. He felt the cartilage in her nose break and she staggered back clutching her face. She screamed in rage and John felt a supreme peace as he looked her dead in her wild eyes and said, “Fuck. You.”

Her eyes were crazed as she stalked over to the wooden table and picked up the pistol she had left there. Marching back in front of him she drew the pistol smoothly to chest height and fired a round straight into the front of John’s skull.

You have died! You are being sent for respawn.