Walking didn't take me very far from the bar, various obstacles appearing for almost every block travelled. Dogs, bandit NPCs, roaming players, monsters, collapsed buildings, and more. I'd give the developers one thing, they could definitely make monsters. The first one I'd encountered was this horrid creature that had probably been human once, though now it was little more than a hunched over, near-skeletal body eating from a trash can. It honestly reminded me of a goblin, except goblins didn't have that many teeth, nor did they have four eyes of varying colors and sizes. It scurried off as a series of gunshots emanated from a few streets away.

I ended up hunkering down just inside a run down office building, hiding in a cubicle just out of sight of anyone who might peer inside. Light filtered in through one of the many shattered windows, illuminating just enough to see both what I'd suffered and what I had obtained. Looking at the empty ammunition box, I smacked myself on the head. I'd forgotten to collect the shell casings, which could've been very useful in the event that I found myself making bullets.

----------------------

Cobra-87 Double Action Revolver

"Good enough to stop an overzealous fan in their tracks."

White Common Firearm

---------------------

---------------------

Echelon Blackout Submachine Gun

"Perfect for any covert operative in need of a quick and dirty exit."

White Common FIrearm

---------------------

My knee was bruised and a little uncomfortable, the faintest feeling of sore muscles prickling my senses. My shoulder ached a bit as well, though it wasn't anything compared to losing my leg, especially with the limited pain. My head however concerned me. If it was a degrading injury, I'd have to watch for debuffs and possible damage over time, maybe even a disorienting effect. I needed real medicine, and I needed it sooner rather than later.

I stuffed the revolver into my pack, and took half a minute figuring out how to reload the unfamiliar submachine gun, the mechanism for doing so being a button just above where the magazine was loaded into.

I only had a few lighters left, the whiskey bottle, and my completely unsanitized medical kit. With those things and an extra half loaded gun, I took a deep breath. I could still feel an ever present fear in the back of my mind even as I stood up, put my backpack on, and walked out the door.

The street was empty on both sides, abandoned cars lining the road. A slight breeze passed me by, giving me chills as the moon shone down. I could've gone to a hospital but I didn't trust those in games, movies, or books. Death was incredibly common inside them, and at most I'd just end up another casualty. I started looting cars instead, not for medicine, but for anything that I might be able to sell for a more well put together kit, or for a fabricator to make better equipment.

I didn't find much of anything. Most cars were either empty, or locked, or only held a few extra things. I did find some credits hidden away in a glove box, bringing my account to a solid two hundred thirty four credits. I had to hide a few times as well, as both players and monsters wandered by, but otherwise I was fine.

I took a peek inside a crumbling apartment building, only checking a few empty homes before scrambling to get back outside after hearing a deep rumbling noise from the floor above. I'd even managed to find another Cobra, though it didn't have any ammunition, and it was light grey instead of a white quality firearm. The trigger stuck a bit and sometimes the firing cylinder wouldn't turn, but it still seemed to work well enough for what it was. I shoved it in my bag to be repaired or sold off later.

Looking at my incredible yet meager haul, I knew that if I really wanted to make progress, I'd have to take another risk. I needed armor and weapons to get the medicine I needed to heal my injuries, so that I could get more items to sell. The best place to start would be a police station, or an area where private security resided. The only problem was that I didn't know where anything was. To help remedy this I headed back to the office building I'd hidden in and began climbing the stairs to the roof.

Revolver in one hand, lighter in the other, one boot-fall at a time, I walked, conquering one flight of stairs after another. While I wanted to use the submachine gun, spraying a ton of bullets in a confined space didn't seem like the best idea to me due to potential ricochet. The flickering flame of my lighter illuminated floor numbers and white brick walls.

As I saw each number fading and chipping with age, I mumbled them to myself as if to confirm that I wasn't walking through one of my worst fears. I was very much afraid of the dark. I had held off the paranoia for a while, but now that things were truly quiet, I couldn't help but see shadows moving on the walls, eyes staring at me from the darkness just beyond my little light.

My teeth were clenched and my finger was on the trigger guard, poised to move and fire at the first sign of a tangible threat. Part of me thought that I could hear laughter from below. I picked up the pace, my leg injury slowing me only a little bit as each boot smacked against the concrete stairs. I heard chittering noises from a few floors above me, the sounds of too many legs skittering along walls, and I finally couldn't take it any more.

I took the nearest door I could, exiting the stairwell into an empty office space with almost two dozen cubicles, most of which were either blown over or collapsed, several broken windows showing the outside world.

My paranoia was reaching a fever pitch with even a warning indicator flaring to life, as I recklessly searched through each cubicle and desk for a candle, or a flashlight, or something to at least burn. The noise would likely be audible to anyone else on that floor, but I no longer cared enough about running into any hidden players, throwing aside staplers, tape dispensers, and other miscellaneous items.

I came up with three different scented candles that I lit all at once in the cubicle furthest from the elevator, situated in a corner near one of the aforementioned windows. It wasn't much, but it did calm down my mounting fear.

I'd learned a long time ago that I could survive being in the dark so long as there were noises around me. Even distant ones could help soothe my mind, such as barking, gunshots, and strange noises that normally deserved a healthy amount of paranoia.

It was when things went quiet that my brain kicked into overdrive. I would hallucinate enough that I couldn't go out at night by myself if I didn't have some sort of flashlight on me. I even had night lights on when I slept, unable to stop the scratching, the whistling winds, and the worst of all, the unintelligible whispers.

It took several deep breaths to steady myself again, looking not at the darkness permeating the rest of the office, but at the candles and their small, warm, comforting light. The warning indicator disappeared.

I'm not ashamed to admit I sobbed in that tiny cubicle, crying as softly as I could to help wash away the fear. The scent of vanilla was a big help.

I spent the next several minutes after that just breathing, staring at the candle I'd put on the ground directly in front of me. It burned ever so slightly brighter than the others, warding me against the dark. Feeling just a little bit better, I blew out the candles and stuffed them in my pack. I flicked my lighter back on and walked back to the door to the stairwell, dusting myself off the whole way. The windows weren't high enough to see what I was hoping for, so the roof was my best option.

I opened the door and stepped back into the pitch black silence. My boots began to make contact with concrete stairs once more, the shadows dancing along the walls. It didn't take long for me to start hearing things again, seeing things moving in the dark. The fear settled into the back of my mind like a bony hand pressed against my skull, though there was also something else there now. Conviction. Another flight of stairs beaten. Another nightmare shifting across the edge of my vision. Another rock clacking against concrete several floors below. Another flight of stairs beaten.

My lighter flickered once before sputtering out, leaving me in total darkness. I took a deep breath as I unstrapped my backpack for one of my other few lighters, even as I tried to reignite the flame. As my hands grasped around it I heard whispers everywhere, all at once, I flicked the lighter on inside the backpack, pulling it out even as my head whipped around to see whatever had been making the noises. There was nothing there. Just more hallucinations. The fear pressed in on me as I resumed my walk. I was losing what remained of my trigger discipline as my finger rested on the trigger, the safety long since off.

Almost mercifully I saw a door at the top of the stairs as I rounded the next flight. With that, my fear simply disappeared all at once. All the noises, all the moving shadows, everything just disappeared. I took one more breath, grabbed onto the door handle, and pulled it open.

A gust of wind blew past me, reintroducing me to all the sounds that had vanished while I was in the building. The gunshots, the distant shouting, the many battles happening in both the ruins and the forest. I walked out onto the roof as a feeling of genuine accomplishment washed over me.

There was no fanfare, no achievement, and not a single piece of loot I could see anywhere nearby, but I still felt far better than I had in an entire year, even with the movement impairing debuffs and injuries. The slight breeze I had felt before washed over me at full force, giving me goosebumps as I walked a small distance from the edge, looking around for anything resembling a police station, or something that might have more guns available.

I could see the bar I'd escaped from just a little bit to the west of me. While I had expected it to have burned down, it was just the same as I had seen it when I was busy running for my life. I'd gone a total of maybe four blocks away, the lights of Bastion just beyond the treeline. Seeing it for myself without having to run from anyone, I realized just how close to it I actually was. The forested area was at least three times as large as the expanse of grass separating it and the ruins. I hadn't even realized, but the trees were all pine. Just like the ones I used to see before I'd won the lottery.

I turned away from what was probably a beautiful sight only because I still had a job to do. I didn't have the time or luxury for reminiscing about the past. I went to the edge of every side of the building, scanning everything I could with my eyesight alone.

There was a gun store maybe seven streets away that was under guard by a minimum of ten players, none of which I could identify in any way except for the fact that they were all armed. Not an option. I continued searching my surroundings, trying to spot something that would give me some sort of clue to a weapons storage. Then I spotted what I'd actually been looking for. It was just barely visible behind what looked like a bombed out bank.

A police station sat behind the bank, similarly reduced to rubble and recognizable only because it had a half buried giant police badge that I had mistaken for a giant football at first.

I started back down the stairs, accompanied by voices and shadows and the whispers of an insane mind.