The door creaks open to reveal an empty corridor of my apartment building, flower pots haphazardly knocked over, the plants mostly gone or shriveled away.

The corridor to my left is blocked by rubble, disallowing me from going further upstairs. The only way is down. And it’s not Essex.

The two apartments accessible on my floor turn out to be devoid of life, the furniture shredded, torn, or broken apart as I eventually give up on salvaging anything useful from the premises. I have five more floors to go through, and something is bound to come up eventually, so that keeps my mind going.

I trudge down the steps, my footing uncomfortable due to the sheer size of my new root system. My entire body is off balance due to my newfound height and elongated limbs, turning my descent into a somersault down the last few steps.

Try walking better

Funny. Very funny.

Exhaling audibly, I dig my face out of the concrete and shift my body around in order to try and ascertain whether something has been dislocated. Status screen could be helpful, but getting a feel for my body should be a priority now. The screens also show almost nothing, or at least I don’t know how to access the parts I’m interested in.

After realizing that the majority of damage has been done to my pride and self-esteem, I use my hands as leverage in standing up, my bark creaking in response to the movements of my body.

Fifth floor, nine apartments.

I stop myself from any verbal announcements and exclamations, hoping that everyone that live here doesn’t need or doesn’t want any assistance from me, or that they have passed the point of needing help at all. Any attention I bring to me in this place could turn out to be negative, especially considering I don’t exactly look like a bona fide human anymore.

I walk over to the nearest door, trying to open it using my oversized palm. The door gives way after I manage to yank the handle down forcefully, only further increasing the sound pollution of the building.

You’re as unnoticeable as the Sun during a hot day

You’d also make a lousy burglar

Thanks, oh so helpful status screens. As if having branches for arms didn’t hinder my villainous ways already.

The apartment reveals to contain nothing of importance, the early signs of abandonment showing in the form of dust on the surfaces I search through. People left in a hurry it would seem.

Returning to the floor hallways, I go through the open doors of the adjacent apartment. The living room reveals to be splotched in dark red as my flashlight tries to light up as much of the space in front of me as possible.

The red splotches seem to be blood, but nothing else can be found on the scene of the crime. Furniture turned over points to some kind of a struggle, the use of the word loose in the context, but no bodies can be found. Maybe it’s for the best when I think about it clearly. I’m fine with dried blood, not sure how would I react to more grim things yet.

The cabinets in the kitchen reveal some canned fruit, which I take, along with a can opener I can only hope of mastering to use in the next decade.

I never thought myself as a guy that would steal from others, but I’m guessing the blood in the room belongs to whoever lived here, and they don’t seem to have any use of food anymore, at least here. Hunger crushes morals eventually, might as well get used to it quicker. The things we do.

The floor reveals to hold nothing more than several blood-stained rooms, no semblance of life, past or present, to be found within the confines of the walls. The evening Sun poses more problems for my vision, as I can’t be certain my flashlight would be a sufficient light source for exploration of the building.

Apparently, my luck statistic would be soaring in the triple digits if I could check it, as I haven’t found any trouble with “wildlife” as they put it and the corridors seem to be largely unaffected by whatever caused the cave-in on my floor.

Floor four shows a novelty in the form of a locked door. My knocks don’t seem to elicit any kind of response from within the apartment, so it’s most likely vacant from before all of this happened.

Figuring out this could actually be worth my while as opposed to travelling idly through the streets at night, I try to get a firm footing on one of my roots, as I kick down as hard as I can with my other leg. This action results in me pushed back down, with the doors apparently not recognising my authority in wood matters. I never lifted in my life.

Dulled senses – health loss minimal

I just wanted to point out how much you suck at burgling

I get back to my feet, using my hand to hurry the process of dissolving the status screen.

The second try leaves me standing in the least, which I count as progress of sorts. It won’t help me open the door faster, but my morale is a bit higher.

The third try leaves my foot beyond the threshold, the opened door swung before me.

There is wisdom in not using shoulders or face to break open doors

However there is no wisdom stat so take from that what you will

The entire thing about missing stats is weird to me. You usually imagine having those. That would be something worth looking into at a later date, as pondering about why something doesn’t exist seems paradoxical to the notion that status screens exist at all. I move on, trying to not get caught in the moment.

My flashlight points in the general direction of the rooms ahead, stale air escaping through the newfound passage. The closed slits on the windows let a minuscule amount of natural lighting in, as I scour the premises for anything of use.

I find absolutely nothing, my spirits only kept high by the prospect of me actually being able to open the door by brute force, signaling that I can actually scrounge up as much. My break-in didn’t seem to garner any attention, wanton or otherwise, as the floors are as deathly silent as before.

My descent continues with the tally being more blood splotches on the walls, a few additional cans of food, along with a new bottle of water.

An apartment on the second floor of the building has a bag of fertile soil for pots.

Couldn’t hurt, right? I am partially a plant after all.

The small bag is barely tied using a rope I just wrapped around hoping the contents wouldn’t spill too soon. A plastic bag I scavenged nearby (they are going to last for centuries, it’s probable they will come in handy sooner rather than later) I use to somewhat secure the contents and to provide a buffer between food, clothes, blankets, and soil. I think I know the odd one out.

You do realise plastic bags are not ecologically friendly, and you’re a plant

There doesn’t seem to be a convenient inventory in which to store the items I carry. So much for that particular game mechanic, which means I am severely limited to the total amount of things I can salvage from this place.

Getting a car to run and carry my groceries is out of the question, since all the fuel is probably gone, burned or used up already, and my driving skills depended on having fingers the size approximately a third of the current ones. I’m a week behind on everything, and the lucky break of being alive would have to be enough.

Floor one, and my last chance to find more stuff in this building.

My attention is drawn by the crunching sound coming from around the corner. My sneaking skills are up to par with my burgling ones, and I move with the grace of an elephant on a unicycle as I approach the corner.

Unfortunately, what I fail to realise is that the lack of windows and electricity on the floor caused it to enter permanent darkness, one I disturbed by bringing in a working flashlight.

Pain surges through my left leg, as I frantically search for my attacker, pointing the flashlight at the corridor.

Dulled senses – damage minimal

You are bleeding (click for more info)

In combat status active

The light catches the pitch black eyes of a creature slightly taller than my knees clawing at my leg. “Argh” I flinch out of its reach as a thick liquid seeps from a newly made wound. The creature’s babbles become more frantic as it leaps onto my chest while attempting to claw at my face, its eyes contrasting with the light poured onto the scene.

I drop my bag and swat aggressively at the creature in a wide arc, as if I’m killing a fly and not whatever this thing actually is.

Helendari Demon – Imp – Common

more information in the Beastiary

Beastiary opened

Well that answers one question.

The creature digs into the bark on my chest just as I bash the foul thing with the flashlight.

“You little fucker! Do I look like a squirrel nest to you?”

Dulled senses – low damage

You are bleeding (again) (click for more info)

You know squirrels don’t actually dig into the trees themselves?

Yes I do. I still would like to not have a hole in my chest, thank you very much.

I turn towards where the Imp dropped, only to find it clutching its leg and hissing at me.

In combat status effect: Knee injury

Apparently the flashlight blow hurt the thing, but not as much as I’d hoped. Before I could blink the Imp (a Common one, whatever that counts for) charges forward and bites into my root.

Fire damage taken

Note to Treant: you’re a plant. Fire burns.

“Shit!”

A small burn causes me to back off. So this vile thing can use fire! I’ll need to get rid of him and get the hell out of here in case his buddies show up.

With a wide arch I kick the Imp across its face and sending him tumbling a few meters into the dark corridor.

I trudge over to the Imp, not bothering to focus my view on him. Lacking any desire to check on his remaining health, I grab it by the throat as the Imp squirms for air, flailing his claws around.

Somehow the Imp manages to grapple onto a wall, biting into my finger.

“Hot! Hot! Hot!”

Fire bad.

Status effect – minor burn.

Dulled senses – minimal damage

The same fire forces me to drop him but I manage to launch my foot forward and kick the Imp across its torso, sending it barreling down on the floor.

I gape at my finger. The bite caused a small burn, but the pain faded already.

I don’t bother looking at the Imp anymore, the creature barely moving as I bring one of my feet over its neck, hoping that the creature needs to breathe. A small crack can be heard from the creature’s neck before it lifelessly slumps on the floor, with its back turned towards me so I don’t have to watch its face writhe in death.

Congratulations, you killed your first enemy

Title gained: Stomper

Due to your merciless crushing of a being much smaller and weaker than you, you get… absolutely nothing. You monster.

This title is not publicly visible

I stand above the small creature, its limbs sprawled around the body, and suppress a gag coming through my throat. I can’t dwell on it, it attacked me and I defended myself. That’s the gist of it, nothing else matters.

I go over to pick up the flashlight I dropped during my first… fight? Battle? The light flickers for a moment before the corridor is lit yet again, the lifelessness of the scenery now causing it to be eerier than before. The floor beneath my feet contains several bones, strips of flesh dangling off them, a small pool of dried blood formed beneath the remains of a carcass.

I perform a quick sweep of the apartments before moving down to the ground floor, where the exit of the building is located.

Corpses overrun the floor below me, the stench of death now permeating my dulled senses. I just walk over trying to not crush anything below me and step out of the door. The darkness of the street welcomes me, as the air carries smoke and stench.

I look to my right, a line of overturned and burned down cars sprawls along the streets.

My eyes barely make out bodies inside and around the vehicles, ashes and cinder painting the world black as moonlight looms from the distance.

Hell on Earth has begun.