Ever known the feeling of a pulse dying, the feeling of it fading as its heart tries desperately to beat one last time?
Limbs losing strength as it tries to kick away your arms wrapped around its throat?
Wheezing—trying and failing to breathe?
Of each scratch against your sleeves weaker than the last?
And when the white ball of fur finally took its last breath, I knew it again—Quite a nostalgic feeling I must say.
But it was not the feeling that interested me, rather...
[Milestone-Fist Murder(Complete)]
[Reward-5 stat points.]
[Only kills of beings that are intelligent or are overwhelmingly more powerful will count from now.]
Would insects have counted?
Maybe. But now? There was no way to know. Because if I was reading this correctly, it meant simply I couldn't become a little psychopath and go on an animal murder spree.
Speaking of animal murder, I looked down at my hands, the cat was there, I had to do something about it.
Not that hard to think about really. I opened the window through which it had walked in. It was right next to my bed—easy to reach.
So, tucking the limbs of the white fur ball in, I folded it up into as much of a ball as possible. Slowly carrying it in my arms I craned it out the window and released it. Gravity would do the rest of the work.
But to make sure no nonsense happened my gaze followed it down. And like a dead stone, it landed splat on the concrete pavement of a roadside walk.
It was dead, killed because it did not land on its feet like it should have. An accident of course.
It would probably be traumatic for anyone who found it. But not my issue. I threw myself back onto the comfortable sheets of my bed.
Not much of a throw—my 1 constitution stat to blame for that—but whatever.
"Status."
[Name-Mira Smith]
(Age-14) (Titles-Nil)
[Status-Weakness]
[Stats]
(Constitution-2)
(Intelligence-10)
(Magic-0)
(Learning-5)
[Traits]
(Cold Blooded)
(Self-disciplined)
It took a second to read through the ivory screen before understanding why my constitution was '2' not '1.' My recovery was progressing. Which was good.
Still 5 stat points.
I wanted to dump all of them into (constitution) but it would be noticeable right? I was a weak fuck right now but I still had enough muscle in my body to strangle the fur ball. And that was with a (constitution) of 2.
What would 7 look like?
And I had 10 in intelligence so not that big of a reward.
Maybe...Magic. Magic. Magic. Magic. A very good tool.
But I had no idea how any of it worked. DC's magic was funky. So funky, so uninteresting that I had no clue about it. And the inconsistency of its portrayal in media only made it worse.
And all that without mentioning the Dr Fate and golden body snatching helmet bullshit.
Ah, the remnant too. Who could say what those lingering feelings would do when mixed with magic—nothing good.
So, until I had access to a veritable tomb of information about that bit of madness I was not going to touch it.
What did that leave me with? Learning. Either completely useless or very very good. A gamble.
Ah well, a spread is the way to go, isn't it?
(Constitution: 2—>4)
(Intelligence: 10—>11)
(Learning: 5—>7)
(Please confirm your choice.)
Yes? Yes, this is my choice.
There was no delay between the end of my thought and the pain.
Rhythmic. Slow.
I felt like my heart had just been jackhammered. Like a nail had been struck deep within.
A nail from which ripples of pain ran through my body. And then that nail melted into a dark slime. Scorching my innards like lava.
I could not even scream as I twisted on my sheets. My feet jerked. Arms trashed.
It wasn't all. But. Before I could even register any more.
My consciousness was gone.
———
——
—
Sabrina walked into her room with a cup of coffee in each of her hands. One for herself and one for the other occupant of the room, her husband, "Kalvin," she called out.
His eyes snapped to her, almost in a daze, and as she caught sight of what he was looking at, she realised why—a farmed picture, Mira hoisted up onto his back against the backdrop of the afternoon sun hitting the sandy beaches. Sabrina had taken that one.
"You okay?" She asked him as she sat down next to him and handed him his cup.
He sighed as took a sip of his cup, "Think so, yeah."
She gave him a teasing smile, "Lier."
Kalvin could only sigh, his wife knew him too well, so he shifted his eyes from the picture to his wife and admitted, "Fine. I was just a little sad."
Just admit it, she wanted to say but swallowed it back, She knew her dear husband would never admit his feelings, heck, it was hassle enough to make him confess his love to her, "Idiot."
He hissed at her a little, before he called her, "Idiotess."
Childish too.
But that was all fine, she loved all of him, "Mira is back with us, so don't worry okay?"
He nodded halfheartedly "I will try."
Smiling she added, "One more thing, I am switching jobs."
"What?" The surprise on his face was funny to her—for some reason—and she liked it, still, it was not like that reaction was unexpected. She was a very career-minded woman after all.
"Yep. You know, when I couldn't go out to meet Mira..." She stopped herself, making sure to phrase her words carefully, "I hated it, yeah, I hated it. So, I have decided. I don't want to spend my time locked up in some lab while our only daughter grows up."
She had expected many reactions from him: quiet acceptance, curiosity, worry...but not the wide smile he was showing her.
But despite that, he only said, "Good."
"Oh, at least give me your opinion!"
"What's there to say?" He said as he pulled his free arm to caress her head, "Which man would be unhappy to have more time with his wife?"
She blushed. Her white cheeks dyed crimson as she felt blood rush to her head.
"...Ba—Bastard," She cursed him, her voice cracking as she did, even the curse had a very saccharine edge to it.
He really could play her like a flute, couldn't he?
[A/N: Give me your two cents, is this good content?]