Creeping 1.1

"Stay low," Dad said, "Keep to the ground."

I nodded, keeping the stalk of my hunting rifle close to my shoulder as I lay prone in between the stones and the sticks. My eyes focused on the deer grazing through the thicket.

"Remember we want to down it in one go," He pulled his rifle to his shoulder right next to me, pulled the bolt back, chambered a round and cranked the bolt back in.

He waited for me to mimic him and I did. It was just that he had a live bullet in his chamber and I had a make-believe one in mine.

Then he aimed it down, I followed along, the barrel lined up to hit just under behind the jawline, a shot through the spine. "Remember BRASS?"

"Yeah. Breath, relax, aim, stop breathing and—" My words froze. A cannon boomed by my side and a red bloom flowed at the deer's hide, it wobbled, not even knowing what happened before it collapsed.

"Shoot," He completed my words as he stood up. I followed behind.

It was down on the ground—paralyzed. Breathing still. Fighting for each breath. Its eyes caught us easily enough when we approached and I could see its pupils scatter, it screeched a little. Did it know what was going to happen?

Maybe he had seen this before.

It might have even been begging for us to spare it.

Not that either of us cared.

Dad took a knee next to the thing, pulling his knife, he was going to slit its throat. But I put my hands on his shoulder. He stopped and turned to me. I didn't say anything and simply slipped my knife out of my side.

His eyes widened a bit before he raised his hands as if to say, all yours.

I nodded, smiling a little before taking my place next to the deer and pulling my knife to its throat. And I realized that it knew what was up. I could feel it tremble. Moan and screeching.

It was a desperate plea for mercy.

But I sliced my knife back, breaking the skin and the veins. Blood gushed out like a faucet. Some of the boiling liquid even slid up my arm. Agh, it was going to be a pain to wash off.

Regardless it was bleeding out.

I started its dying form, taking all its helplessness in. Knowing that one day I might just end up like that.

Sighing I waited, waited till all movement seized.

Till it was dead.

Then Dad put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry kiddo you will get used to it." Standing up he still kept a close eye on me, maybe he thought I was affected by killing the animal. Well, he was free to assume what he willed, "I will go get the ATV."

Shooting him a nod I picked out a nearby rock to settle myself on. He was gone quickly and given that the ATV was just a few minutes walk away, he would be back equally as quickly.

Still, I had time so I pulled my, "Status."

[Name-Mira Smith] 

(Age-15) (Titles-Nil)

[Status-Healthy]

[Stats]

(Constitution-7)

(Intelligence-14) 

(Magic-0)

(Learning-7)

[Traits] 

(Cold Blooded)

(Self-disciplined)

No improvement other than 'Constitution' and 'Intelligence.' Both of which had of course also stopped after I became healthy.

A sigh left my lips at that, I had stagnated completely. My parents—too worried about their dear daughter didn't allow me anything, no strength-building exercise, no stamina work, no nothing.

At least I had managed to squeak out a deal about getting me in touch with my spirit animal: The Second Amendment.

Still, as my eyes travelled back down to the carcass sitting down by my feet...I didn't want to end up like that. Never.

I need power and for that.

And for power, I needed a kill.

Someone, something intelligent.

The sound of an engine forced me out of my thoughts. My eyes travelled up from the carcass to see Dad approaching.

Seeing him I pushed out all my depressing thoughts to make room for the better ones namely that today we had a good haul.

And that meant good food.

We arrived back at my grandparents' other cabin before the sun had even peaked. We had gotten a deer very early on after all, maybe too early even because now there was nothing to do but slog through the rest of the day.

Even so, it was not like having nothing to do was a bad thing.

As Dad's wheels rolled to a stop I got off the back of the ATV and after giving one last look to the carcass strapped to the cart, I walked up to the cabin door and opened it. But before I had even stepped inside Mother's voice rang out, "So how was your day? Shoot anything good?"

"Nah, not today either. Dad only went over the basics," I said while kicking the stopper down and fixing the door open.

"When you are ready I am sure he will let you," She assured not even looking up from her tablet. "So what do you want for dinner today?"

"Grilled deer," Pulling the rifle off my back I stacked it by the wall. "Dad made the shot."

"Oh," She looked up, a smile on her face, she liked meat, well, I did too, nothing to complain about there. "So, why is there blood on your hands?"

I looked down at my palms, right, the blood, "I slit the deer's throat. Dad didn't kill it in one."

"Ah, first time right? I remember mine too. It was...eh gruesome. Never liked that part. Don't worry you will get over it," Humming to let her know I heard, I ended up in front of the sink with soap on my hand trying to wash out the blood.

"Don't take it too hard okay sweetheart?" She approached from the back, hugging me. And though I had, of course, not taken it hard, I was not going to tell her that.

Finishing washing my hands I had managed to get most of the blood out so I wiped my hands on the towel, "Mom, you can let go you know?"

She didn't, of course, even as I put the towel back. And I knew what I had to do. Pulling my hands to her side. I tickled her. Instantly she pulled off. A hint of a smile still on her lips. "Alright, alright. But the hug helped right?"

Shanking my head I smiled back and lied, "It did Mom. You are the best."

Pleased with herself she nodded, taking her seat at the table again, "Mira tell your father to cut the pieces a bit larger, we might as well have a barbeque with your grandparents tonight."

"Sure," I said before shuffling out of the cabin and telling Father who was busy moving the carcass to the butchering station, he turned his head. "I heard your mom. Call them up will you?"

Shooting him a nod I slipped back in towards the landline that sat beside Mom's table. Picking up the phone I dialed their number on the landline. Why landline? Well, there was no single anywhere here.

The phone connected, it rang, but no one picked it up.

A frown cast on my lips, grandmother's always on point with her calls, always and every time. She even had eight landlines strung about their mansion—one was never more than ten feet away from you in that place.

Well, one more try couldn't hurt, so I dialled again.

And again no one picked it up.

I turned to my mother, "Mom they are not picking it up."

She spared me a side glance and shrugged, "Walk over and tell them then."

Nodding I picked up a bottle of water and started.

It was going to be a trip and a half if I was walking to Gran's place the bottle was needed.

I had left the cabin at around ten and by the time I could see the tip of their mansion(estate?), it was eleven and some change. An hour-long walk. Even the bottle I had been sipping from was now empty.

But here I was.

Crossing over perhaps the only bit of asphalt this deep in the thicket I stood in front of Gran's home only they were not alone.

There was a car parked right next to the main gate, a shoddy one, old and trashed. And the brass gate was carelessly thrown open, and the guard, Kevin was...absent.

Even the dogs, where were they? Where the fuck were Lucy and Coco? They would be running out by now licking me up and down by now.

Then from the corner of my eye, I saw red. A strain on the glass blades just out of sight inside the walls of the estate. Instinctively I walked over and a stone's throw from the stain my feet froze. My breathing stilled. I could see what was there. Two balls of fur, Lucy and Coco, both lay still, motionless. There was a small pool of blood underneath their bodies.

Pushing myself forward I walked next to them, to see their wounds and check if they still drew breath.

As I took a knee next to the two German shepherds my eyes quickly caught on the wounds, slit throats, I moved my fingers over the wounds—clean as fuck and in the same spot for both.

Not another blemish on them.

They didn't even fight back, did they? If they did the slits would have been messy, rough even if just due to the dogs fighting back.

Motherfucker.

I pulled myself up and quickly slid away behind the parked car, standing in the garden I was an exposed turkey ready to be shot at.

At least here, behind the car I could break the line of sight for anyone keeping guard through the windows.

Well, if they hadn't seen me already. But given I was not shot there might be a chance.

Regardless I had two options: To flee or to stay. To fight or to run.

I remembered the words of the system. The words I had gotten half a year ago.

[Milestone-Fist Murder(Complete)]

[Reward-5 stat points.]

[Only kills of beings that are intelligent or are overwhelmingly more powerful will count from now.]

And so, the answer was easy. Fight and kill.

It was an opportunity after all and while I preferred safety, this was almost like a handout.

———————————————————

[P.O.V: 3rd Person]

It was a damned day when he finally folded to his friends. Even the afternoon weather seemed to mock him, almost inviting one to go on a picnic. Maybe invite Magan from the store too.

But no, here he was staring down a pair of old folks, scared and resentful with the business end of his cheap Chinese Type-56 rifle while his...associates cleaned the place out.

Well, he signed up for it, so he couldn't complain. He just hoped that these old folks would stop looking so resentful. Insurance was going to cover them, he knew they had it, Kevin was sure of it, so it was not like they were losing anything. Even the cameras were just turned off and not destroyed. It was just the dogs.

And he didn't think he deserved the hate for—His vision blurred, his body lost strength, and he stumbled forward. A force gripped his hand and dragged it back pulling the gun from the pair.

Then lava erupted from his neck. Following it came a smouldering pain. A scream erupted from his throat but a hand gripped his mouth close, he couldn't scream.

Knees giving in, he fell forward. The last thing he felt before he couldn't anymore was the feeling of lying in a pool of warm water. Crimson red water.

Mira didn't let him fall freely though, that would have made too much noise, so she put him down gently. Her hand still gripping the rifle while her knife hung off her wrist.

Her eyes moved up to meet her grandparents they were surprised, too focused on the man to have seen her sneak in, her entry was as much a surprise to them as it was to their captor.

They looked at her, her eyes matched theirs, she pulled her knife down to the ground and slid it to them, all the while she pulled up the Type 56, the spare magazine and readied the gun against her shoulder. Flicking the safety off.

Seeing her, many words were stuck in their throats, none of which they voiced, instead her Grandfather pulled up the life and ground it against his wife's tapped hands, cutting it away.

Mira let them be and quickly moved up and stacked herself next to the stairs, aiming her gun up the flight, they were up there, she had figured out that much by quietly sneaking into the security room and turning the cameras back on. An almost trivial job.

These looters were either so shit or confident that they hadn't even left a guard in the security room, not even a lookout.

Even now she could hear the noise upstairs, but they hadn't heard her, so she waited and waited, until one stepped out of the top floor, a biker helmet on his head.

The moment she could see his body she aimed for the center man and pulled. In an instant, the world ignited in noise as the man didn't even have time to react. He fell backwards with five bullet wounds in his chest. Two down. One left.

"Chase!" Someone shouted, Mira turned her gun to the source, he was hidden behind a wall, she didn't give a fuck and pulled the trigger. Full rip. It was 25 shots. They tore through the wood and straight towards the source, "FUCK!"

The man cursed as she knew something hit, she was not good with guns. She had only been using bolt actions till now after all. So, she was just spraying and praying. Good thing then that her first target was very close range. And good on her luck that she nailed the other bastard through the wall. Well, not luck, not really. He was a stone's thrown from her and hard to miss.

Not that she trusted her luck, she quickly exchanged the magazine and kept her gun aimed at the source, not before quickly switching her position for one behind one of the doors that led into the main hall from where she had a clear view of the stairs. It was necessary really, what if the vandal got inspired by her, blind-fired and somehow nailed her?

She would be fucked. So she was here.

Waiting for either the man to make a move or for the police to arrive. Whichever really.

As for how the police would arrive? She was counting on her grandparents to have something hidden somewhere around here that had a working reception, unlike her phone.

And as sirens rose in the distance. She could feel a smile draw on her lips.

Then she saw it, the sight of a pistol peaking out of the sides of the wall trying to align itself to her previous position, even if it was widely off. She didn't hesitate and peeked out fully and with her sights matched on the wall she ripped the trigger again.

A scream erupted.

The gun fell over limp.

He was dead.

She stood up and let her gun slip to the ground.

And as she did a voice roared over the estate, "We have this building surrounded!"

Well, a bit fucking late for that.

And funnily enough, that was a good thing.

[3xHuman defeated and killed.]

[Reward: 3 stat points.]

Fucking really? After all that shit? Three?

Agh, fine.