I walked cautiously down the hallway, my eyes scanning left and right and my ears straining to hear something, anything.

  Passing the spot that contained the hidden entrance to the shop, I tapped the wall again, hoping I’d be able to re-enter. Nothing but solid, stuccoed sheetrock.

  I was alone again. Although the shopkeeper had been a literal monster from myth, she had been the only one who I seemed to have any hope of conversing with. I’d have to find a way back, and hopefully get some more questions answered. This time I’d make sure to talk as long as I could before buying anything, hopefully buying me some extra time in relative safety.

  I reached the first door in the hallway that wasn’t mine. It looked like the standard apartment door that I was used to seeing in the building, only it wasn’t numbered. I looked back to confirm that my own door was indeed still numbered, which thankfully it was. It might be a nightmare to find my own door again depending on how mazelike this place was. If only I had a map.

  At the thought of a map, a new display appeared in the top left of my vision, a larger rectangle subdivided into smaller ones in a grid pattern. The only bit of information it conveyed was a tiny red square at the bottom.

  Automapping? Had to be. Roguelikes usually feature a map of some kind. From the number of subdivided rectangles I was looking at a pretty large level, but that was assuming the level took up the entire area of the map. Another piece of info that I would have to learn.

  I tried the door handle, to no avail. I did get another message from Management though.

  TIP. Some rooms are locked. You’ll need a key to enter. Management.

  Okay, well that answered that. To fully explore the level I’d need keys. The question was where to get them. That brought up another question. If I couldn’t clear every room, would I still be able to clear the level?

  I moved further up the hallway to the second door, located just a few feet from where the hallway split left and right at the T-junction. This time the doorknob turned and I twisted it.

  Before I opened the door I paused, getting myself ready for whatever might be on the other side. I inhaled and let the door swing open as I stepped to the side. I would not be caught by some sort of jumping monster again like I had been the first time.

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  When nothing jumped out, I poked my head around the corner of the doorframe, scanning the room.

  I was greeted by about a ten by ten square room bathed in darkness aside from the glow from an old-style floor model CRT TV, which shone on what appeared to be an empty couch. From the hallway entrance I was looking at the side of the TV and the couch, which looked familiar.

  Anyone who grew up in the 80s had seen this couch before, or at least some version of it. Heavy wood and covered with a usually brownish pattern of some kind. This one was straight out of my early childhood memories, with each cushion adorned with what looked like a mill of some sort framed by brown flowers. We had one like it in our rec room when I was a kid, and I’m pretty sure some of our relatives had the exact same one.

  There wasn’t any sound coming from the TV, and from my current angle I couldn’t see what was being displayed. I could see from the changing glow on the couch that there was probably something being shown.

  I stepped into the room, fork out, ready to... well do whatever I could with a fork. There was definitely no rocking and rolling in the cards, not until I got a better weapon.

  I switched my gaze between the couch and the TV, ready for one of them to come alive and attack me. Nothing would surprise me at that point.

  I approached the TV first and jabbed my fork at the side. The fork bounced off the faux wood, scraping the finish a little.

  Satisfied that the TV wouldn’t attack me, I looked toward the couch. Approaching it, I rammed the fork into the nearest cushion. Aside from poking a hole in the patterned fabric, nothing happened.

  As I moved to turn away from the couch, my foot brushed up against something. Looking down I saw something sticking out from underneath the couch’s frame. It looked like a magazine, the edge of one of the pages poking out just enough for me to grab it.

  I bent down and jabbed the apparent magazine page. I wasn’t taking any chances at this point. There was no reaction, so I began to pull it out from under the couch.

  The moment I held it up to my face, info brackets appeared around it.

  FORKS MONTHLY – SKILL MAGAZINE – CONSUMABLE

  YES/NO

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Forks Monthly?”

  With nothing to lose, I focused on yes, causing the magazine to disappear. My phone dinged.

  YOUR BOUND WEAPON ATTACK HAS INCREASED BY 0.5. Management.

  Great, now I was better at... forking. Why couldn’t I have picked up a baseball bat or a frying pan when all this had started?

  I felt something shift in my hand and looked at the fork. It looked like the item had changed with the upgrade. The handle was a little longer, giving me maybe an extra half inch of reach, and the prongs did look a little sharper, though that may have been my imagination. It still seemed like a pretty pathetic piece of hardware.

  I ran my hand under the couch and then under the cushions to see if I could find anything else. Between the cushions my hand brushed something metal and round, which I pulled out.

  1 SILVER

  TAKE INTO INVENTORY?

  YES/NO

  “I’ll be damned,” I thought, taking the silver into my inventory. The silver count reappeared in my vision the moment I did.

  I was about to turn to leave when the glow from the television suddenly dimmed.

  Static suddenly surrounded me, ready to kill.