I exhaled through my nose. Maybe the Checklist was misleading. Maybe it was just tasks picked at random, with no care as to how it could affect other people. Honestly, with as information-starved as I was, it could be anything.

  I forced myself to move on, flipping to my stats.

  ***

  HP: 11/11

  SP: 11/11

  Set | Level 1

  Strength: 3 (+1)

  Endurance: 2 (+1)

  Agility: 2 (+1)

  Dexterity: 2 (+1)

  Perception: 3 (+1)

  Intelligence: 2 (+1)

  Willpower: B

  ***

  The numbers weren’t shocking. I wasn’t some battle-hardened warrior or some absurdly talented savant. I was just a hunter. My body was used to tracking, fighting, surviving, and following the orders of the folks who knew more. If anything, I was just surprised my Willpower didn’t have a number. I was also curious about the numbers in the brackets. Why were they separated like that?

  On second thought, why wasn’t my Intelligence higher? I was definitely smarter than I was strong. Unfortunately, there weren’t any points of interaction with this screen, so I couldn’t open up tooltips or something.

  One thing I could conclude, though, was that gaining a Level also sort of healed me, so this world probably worked on a heal-when-Level sort of rule.

  I stretched my fingers and poked my head out of the hiding hole. Pretty desolate place. Never been out there or this close to a Mauler, so I had no idea if these things were pack animals.

  Unfortunately for me, I was down an arm and my crappy little bow fell out of my hands when Bastard McGee sacrificed me. Staying out here too long wasn’t advisable.

  The village couldn’t be so far. If I could retrace the Mauler’s steps, I could find my way back. My eyes flicked to the ground. I crawled out and searched, finding something after a few moments–blood. It was a faint, uneven trail leading away–very clearly my blood.

  There was a problem, though. It was way too faint. It was so easy to lose track of it. But that didn’t make sense. The wound that I had couldn’t have been bleeding this lightly.

  I guessed that the village wasn’t far because I hadn’t died from blood loss. But this didn’t make sense.

  I clenched my teeth. How much blood had I lost? I didn’t feel lightheaded. Shaky, yes, but not in danger of passing out. Even before the Level, I was lucid enough to escape. Would that have been possible with severe blood loss?

  Then a realization hit me.

  Some villagers had gossiped about it. Shadow Beasts had clotting agents in their saliva.

  A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. “Yeah, you clot so that you can enjoy your fresh meal at your own pace.”

  That thing had demolished my arm and, in the process, made sure I wasn’t going to bleed out.

  I exhaled and shook my head. No time to think about that. I turned toward the faint blood trail and took my first steps forward.

  My mind was still buzzing, jumping from thought to thought. It wasn’t lost on me that I was unnervingly calm. I chalked it up to shock, my memories of another life coming back, a side-effect of the Level, or a mixture of everything else.

  I also lamented my lack of ability to defend myself. The Trump Card was a saving throw. I still didn’t have anything to protect myself with, and I seriously doubted I could do much with my current stat totals.

  I punched the wall next to me. It hurt. It remained strong. Strength at 3 meant nothing.

  The tunnels felt tighter the farther I went in. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me, but every shadow seemed deeper, and every breath sounded louder. My steps were careful, and measured, but even so, I winced at how loud the crack of the rock beneath my feet was. I kept my eyes locked on the faint blood trail, knowing that if I lost track of it, I’d never find the village again.

  Still, my mind wouldn't shut up. It kept going back to the list…

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  That collapsed Checklist loomed in my vision; its soft blue glow was a quiet reminder that there was an alternate way forward.

  I told myself I could pursue it after regrouping. That was the sensible approach.

  I entered a slightly tighter tunnel. Still big enough for the Mauler and its snack to move through, but the ceiling was lower. The tunnel walls felt rougher here too, like they’d been scraped by something massive and coarse forcing its way through.

  There was suddenly a slither. I froze. There was something there, a little ahead of me. It wasn’t a Mauler, but it was a Shadow Beast all the same.

  At first, it was just a dark shape, blending almost perfectly with the shadows. But then, its silver eyes opened. Not just two. Dozens. The eyes spiraled, a sick rattling sound coming from them like they were maracas. Then they all stopped and blinked in unison.

  I knew what this was–a type of Shadow Beast called Stalkers. They were thin humanoids with elongated heads, limbs, and torsos. They were like shadows that were peeled off of surfaces and made to stand. Other villagers had reported them staring from beyond the boundaries.

  We actually had no idea how these things operated. We just knew they liked to watch us.

  The Stalker swayed in place as its eyes blinked. And then the mouths started forming.

  They pushed through the shadow membrane of the Stalker’s body, shapeless at first, then stretched into twisted grins. Some were too wide, others too small, but all of them curled at the edges, like they were enjoying making me the butt of their joke.

  And then, suddenly, a singular laugh came from the Staler.

  It was a low, grating chuckle at first. Then a bubbling guffaw, as if it couldn’t contain its amusement.

  It echoed through the tunnel, bouncing off the walls, and attacking my ears with its discord.

  I stumbled back. “Why am I so funny to you things? Is it because I’m dead, no matter what I do?”

  To my surprise, the laughter paused.

  “What?” I asked, confused.

  All at once, the mouths opened wide and let out their mind-breaking cackle. I didn’t think. I just turned and bolted into the nearest passage. As soon as I did, a shriek echoed. From my peripheral, I caught a glimpse of a shadowy whip.

  It struck me on my right arm, tearing my skin open and causing blood to splatter. The impact caused me to twist and hit the wall, but with adrenaline coursing through me, I kicked off and kept my sprint up down another passage.

  As I ran, I glanced at my arm. “Holy shit. No way.”

  The wound had closed up! How did that happen? It was gushing blood a second ago. I got my answer when I looked at my HP bar.

  HP: 6/11

  It clicked for me at that moment. Wounds didn’t stick as long as I had more than zero HP. Suddenly, one aspect of this world illuminated for me. That said–

  “A single whip took out nearly half of my HP? I knew I was outmatched!”

  The Stalker’s cackling still echoed behind me–more than enough reason to never consider stopping. My boots slammed against the rocky floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The tunnels narrowed and twisted. Rocks would fall ahead of me, or sometimes pop with incredible force. Worm-like lights poked in and out. The floor bubbled at times. Shadows stretched, but I wasn’t sure if that was real or panic-induced.

  The rock beneath my feet crumbled more easily, forcing me to adjust my footing mid-step. The walls seemed to press in when I ran past, making me push harder. It felt like the tunnel knew I was here and wanted to enforce a natural order that I was fighting against.

  I turned a corner sharply, nearly slamming into the wall. The Stalker wasn’t behind me anymore, or at least I couldn’t hear it. Even so, my instincts screamed at me to keep moving.

  And just then, I heard something else, proving my instincts right. It was an obvious scraping noise, like claws dragging against stone. I think I could tell where it was coming from. Something was keeping pace with me in the parallel tunnel.

  I risked a glance to my left, and my stomach dropped.

  Through jagged openings, I caught glimpses of it. A thin, primate-like Shadow Beast was sprinting beside me on all fours. Its arms were too long. Its fingers—razor-sharp and silver-coated—clicked against the stone as it sprinted. Its face was flat, smooth, like it was wearing a shadowy mask, but I could see its silver eyes opening across its body like bubbles rising beneath a surface. They clustered at random, vanishing and reappearing in different spots, like they couldn’t decide where they wanted to look at me from.

  And most annoying of all, that mask-like face was wearing a perpetual grin.

  The moment our eyes met, it shrieked to greet me. A high, piercing sound that sent a spike of terror through my chest. My body leaned forward, purely on instinct, but my legs weren’t fast enough. I could already tell it was right on me. The moment it could cross the thin layer of cracked rock, it would get me.

  No. No, no, no. I need to move.

  I willed my body to go faster. I got a ‘B’ for willpower? I hoped to use it and will my legs to burn to a crisp if it meant escaping.

  “Faster!

  And then a jolt ran through me.

  It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t exhaustion. It was the same sensation I felt when I leveled up. A sudden clarity. My body responded.

  I was running faster. Not by much. Just a little. But I felt it. My feet hit the ground and propelled me forward with more force.

  And something else—

  SP: 10/11

  I hadn’t been using any abilities. I didn’t have any abilities. But my SP was draining—seemingly one point every second.

  I activated something. Didn’t know what, but something was active!

  The realization sent a shock down my spine, but I didn’t have time to process it. I leaned into the speed, forcing my burning legs to carry me as far from that thing as possible.

  Eleven seconds. I had eleven seconds! Eleven seconds to change my destiny!