The glowing entity considered the situation, what went on while time passed.

Yes. Now is the time, for the crucial action. All pieces are now in place. Nothing can stop The Plan from success.

A tender 'hand' reached out from this being, to push against the status thing ... and to pulse energy against this button thing ... leaving a faint 'click' to be heard. A buzz somewhere, and some sense of the stasis about to face a change-

The entity could only chuckle, a playful giggle really, and ... wait. It's all a matter of Time ... all for the love of the One, and the truth of a promised return.

---

C, can, can I, I ... can't feel. Not ... feel. Huh?

I ... what? What happened to me, where am I-

-what is this.

It's dark, I'm in darkness now. C, cold too, but not freezing. Yet somehow ... I can ... see?

Not a pure darkness, but faint lights high in the room, in sconces high on walls or pillars providing weak illumination. If it's so dim I can see only shades of gray ... why is this? I have a sense of those points of light being mere smoldering wicks, like on candles about to be extinguished; but also so each one of them having an ability to flare up to full flames, when needed. This room ... it could get so bright, but why isn't it? Were they lit up before, but not now-

When ... before ... now? All concepts of time? I have some sense of ... standing in a spot, or some place near here, for some indeterminate amount of time. But only now do I realize it. I don't know if I should feel so ashamed I didn't sense myself as I first arrived ― or dare ask how long it's been since then, since my first being here. Ashamed, or offended maybe, at this thought. Or to the other way ― pissed off maybe, if someone did this to me-

I am staring straight into a stone column, a vertical shaft rough hewn from one piece of stone, reaching from the equally rough floor into the ceiling above. What's more, I stand in silence, other than the trace of a breeze. It's so cold and damp here, because somewhere I'm hearing a faint 'drip' spaced out ten seconds or so; but cold and damp enough. See here, my arm hair is-

UUAAAAAH!

-b, bo, bones! M, my arm ... my bones!

I'm ... boned!

---

This me I'm seeing is shocking, like totally ... fer sure ... shocking. I seem to be a creature of bones. This is not logical! Something dead? No, someone dead. D, E, D, dead.

Nonononononono this cannot be! I am alive! Aliiiiiiive!

... er wait ... but ... alive or, or, whatever ... how am I ... still, like, this?

Walking? Dead or not? I think thoughts and feel feelings and see sights and hear sounds of this place!

... I just cannot smell or taste; but it's not so noisy, only a hint of some faint distant breeze, or I might go crazy from the absolute deafening silence.

But also ... because of the odd way of this ... I am not stopping looking at myself. All of my bones, my skeleton ... or what I can see, and just ... wondering. How? What? Why? When?! All the details! The emptiness of ... me.

Who am I ... I ... what. I am-

-I can't remember. Why can I not remember something so simple as, well ... as a name? Much less any specific memory.

Because when I think of 'skeleton' I think of 'dead' or 'death'. And when I think of those two words I think of nothingness. Or when I think of the opposite, of being not dead but not alive, or 'undead' ... I think of pain. And, I'm not in any pain, at the least bit. If I'm undead, not fully dead, nothing like being alive either, then should I not be experiencing some pain or torment or torture for my state of existing? But ... none of this happens. I ... I am. Just this.

Also, I am seeing clear into where my internal organs would have been ... should have been. Should be now, if I were in any sense alive. I'm like a school science model I remember seeing, except (I am thankful) no metal rods are holding me upright. Just bones, no muscles or tendons either ― though somehow in a freak moment of clear vision while I look down at 'me' I sense an energy holding this ― all of me ― together.

But no, it's so clear ― I no longer even have a v- va- ― you know, the thing with the other thing, and the thing going inside-

Y, yep. No sign of gender, see I can put my bony fingers all the way through, where this should be; yet somehow I still think I am, er was, something ... female. A vague sense, even, of having wanted to flaunt my form; but for this world, this place, I do not have a body to do so. Who would want to peek at a skeleton, a thing of only bones? What other way can I get my thrills?

So then, no sex organs. It means no possibility of sex, too, right? One less periodic dose of pain, too? But also ― no joy of ... doing it, getting paid, er, getting ― something? I have the feeling I did this ... once. With someone special to me.

Ugh, this sucks. Hey, I'm feeling alone and confused here, guys-

-guys?

Whether I got placed facing the stone column or not, I'm not alone in the place either. Other skeleton bodies are in this area, a good five others near me, but maybe twenty or more beyond the local clustering. But they seem to be predominately male. If I compared by glance the overall body width because none of them have any organic sign of maleness, then I think my wider pelvis and 'bone structure' confirms me a female. And thus by general deduction, they're all male; no, it's not like I'm any private detective, it's just logical or seems right. This point more or less at hand, I'll examine the surroundings more, even stepping around a small bit to observe things. I'll count all the things too, just to know on hand what's existing here too.

I also learn from this, through walking all over this place, my sight is not what it used to be. It's not the same, it's something entirely different. Or maybe it can't be the same as ... well whatever I have the feeling it should be.

As I stood still, my 'sight' reaches out to the extents of the room but seems strangely fuzzy in nature ... dim gray scaled, as if a visual relayed to me. And it came from all directions ― I could see in a ... panorama? If that's the word; I could see every angle from me but so completely out of focus. But once I started moving, then this gray stuff fades away and normal sight appears out to a mere three times my height for sure in radius. Not gray scales but faint color ― I'm so thankful for this much. Another body height beyond this edge, I see faded bits and pieces popping into and out of view, as I came near to or passed out of range of things. It's an interesting context of 'knowing' they're there from the faded grays; yet not 'seeing' them until I'm within range of them. Odd; but understandable now, in this new context I explore.

I am within a room, with faint sources of lights. But in comparison to the light being so low leveled, this room is fairly large and cavernous; maybe ... half a football field long by half as wide? So ... it's a long room then. Also, I think its height from floor to ceiling is maybe more than two house stories tall; I will guess this because I can barely sense what is "above" me. Random stone pillars do give some defense factors. From ... from what, exactly? Why would I or anyone else need 'defense' ... in this place? What, we skeletons are not ... safe? In context I'd think whoever comes in here could use the pillars to hide and snipe us-

Uh oh. Baaaaad idea. A bad line of thought, seriously bad there. Definitely bad, beyond bad. What is this, a sniping gallery? Are we then the targets? Like those paperweight ducks in the carnival shooting gallery?

I also have a strange feeling ― wherever "here" is, it should not have the same concept of a carnival. I don't understand it ... and yet I do. It's a shooting gallery, of skeletons.

---

... oh then so I am right. Walking around, I have got a fair sense of proportion of this space. And a proper count of our numbers. Not like I needed to know; but ... what the hell else can I do, here?

Count my bones, since I now could? Done it; four times through, already. Each one. The total never does change-

-I probably look foolish, moving around like this ― but who cares. Who dares stop me?

The room size is fairly accurate, from what I have discerned. Floor, walls, ceiling, and columns are gray stone as well, rough hewn ― nobody has even attempted to smooth them. I think it should be nice not to scrape myself along an uneven surface, but at least it's not bad for starters. In my own private sense of direction I will label it as laying east/west the long way. Two door arches got placed in both east and west walls though. I tried to push through the north door of the west side, but ... could not budge it. It's like some force field exists there and ― I don't even know what a force field is! What can it be ― some fictional concept I somehow recall, or is a force field some natural thing, here?

So ... I am ... trapped. Put here by design, maybe trapped in here by some error or mischief of my own making long before? Wait, what could I have done to deserve ... this?

It looks like this was a planned but simple layout, an amount of skeletons too. Including me, it's a total of twenty nine. Just from this casual walking around, a meet and greet with no greeting in return, I am sensing from the pattern some simple mind has put this in place. Two bone men in each corner, aligned to 'watch' the different angles of the room for intruders, and all of them seemingly acolytes with staffs to 'buff' their skeleton allies. Two at each end, centered between the double doors, function as an 'early warning system' if I'm thinking the right words. That's already twelve skeletons, out of the room's total of them; the rest of them, seventeen or so, are in patterned groups in the middle, around various columns of stone. My thoughts run momentarily to how those columns might be load bearing structures so if hit-

Wait let me ask ... what's this 'load bearing structure' thing mean and why do I have an urge to hit it until I find out-

Five skeletons in a cluster a few steps in from those entryways at each end, one of those to the west of its center point where I am assigned or placed. Another ten to subtract; leaving ― seven in the middle to guard the core of the space. One bigger skeleton in the center is wearing some leather baldric and leather cap and holding an iron lance. But when I try to reach out to his weapon, he turns to glare so hard ― it causes a knee-jerk reaction in him, and it causes me to appraise him.

Name: <nameless>
Title: <none>
Age: 113 y 3 d 09 h
Sex: <sexless>
Level: 3 (3/60 xp)
Stats: <hidden, intellect too low>
Skills: <hidden, intellect too low>
Equip:
- Worn Leather Baldric (worn leather, brass rivets)
- Worn Leather Cap (worn leather)
- Rusty Iron Lance (worn wooden shaft, rusty iron head)
Other: <hidden, intellect too low>

'Stay back, you weak minion. Return to your post.'

... I have recognized his warning ... and I will obey-

-ugh; this makes me feel so ... mechanical. What's the word ... ro, roba, no ... robot. Yeah this. Well what could anyone else do, being here in this place! Plus his 'eyes' glowed more vibrantly red than anyone else's eyes, and a chill ran down my back ... or it would have. Still gave me an eerie sense, regardless.

I think I will nickname him 'Sarge' ― as if he were sergeant of an army platoon. Hmm, don't know how I know this either, but I am thinking it. Because on this second glance around, I am seeing he is somehow higher level than all those level ones or twos around here. Is level three already high for a skeleton creature in these parts? I do not know; but I think so ... at least in this room.

It's a first time too I heard any voice ― any thought but my own, any clattering bones not mine or the casual flows of air through this room. So ... clearly some intellect can be had here: either from him or in something even more large in size than all of us in this room. But for the moment I have been 'told off', I ... I can only obey.

That's it, it's decided ― I feel I should try to 'resist', or somehow maintain my own sense of self ... or risk losing it.

-can I sink any lower than what I am, now? ... y, yes; I could become like them.

Crawling slowly back to 'my' position ... either by force of not wanting a consequence of failing to do so ... or because it's easier right now to just follow this command. I stand alone, to think all of this over, again and again-

---

... it's been ... days. Weeks; possibly even months. No clock, no wristwatch, no smart phone to look at to tell the time-

Oh how do these other guys do it, just standing there? How can they just stay in one place and not move a muscle- Well ... you know what I mean.

I guess I could take the girl's viewpoint and just call them all "muscle heads" except ... no muscles. Not much of anything but bones. No dicks to play with, either. I know, I checked.

I did hear something coming in here the day before yesterday ― but it only ended up being some clear, slimy blob, something rolled over itself and sped through the room. At least I will think it's clear; no idea, since my sight was so ... color palette limited all this time before. Except when it entered, even my vision shifted. And in the process of its rolling on the ground floor, it drew all the other skeletons' attentions, just for the moment.

... yeah, it's like this. They suddenly ... chase it.

Can a poor cute little skeleton girl sigh, in desperation or humor? I have the feeling, I did.

Something automatic (maybe fun too) to do here, boys! Run ahead! Stop! Turn! Hit! Turn! Hit!

Seriously. It's a gas watching all those bone guys trying to hit, er hitting where the thing was, not where it would be. One or two of them from the corners seemed to toss balls of ... energy? Some of them even hit their fellow skeleton in this odd siege, proof to say 'we' are not flawless as objects of bone too. Or even so were not cautious about 'friendly fire'. Then again I also got a sense of some Monty Python skit ... never mind I do not know what this even means. What is a skit, or um, what could this Monty Python be?

But. Beyond even that, on the scale of this inane moment.

... I do not think they know. Physics, the least of it ― and I don't even know how I can remember basic physics if I have no memories of myself either. Something which got taught to me?

Which means, I'm ... smarter? Me the only female here, is the smartest creature in the room? Even smarter than Sarge, maybe?

---

While this viscous ball of strange fluid is still rolling around and avoiding us, and even I am feeling compelled now to react ― I'm also feeling like this gives new context to 'our' placement, or purpose, here.

Let's see what we have here. A summary. In the last ... *mumble* days here ... I think I've just found out a few things, about either myself or my situation.

First, I have a feeling of having been 'alive', before being in this place. No concrete memories of self identity; but just a latent feeling, like ... I should be somewhere else at this time.

Second, even if I'm moving around and doing things, I am ... not 'alive' in the past sense I have of the word. Alive is not dead, dead is not alive; yet as a skeleton being not alive means dead too. I also have a voice, or at least I think I should; these words I speak just force my jaw to clack and clatter open and closed. It's not a 'voice' in the sense I wish I had now; something I vaguely think I should be having too. No hunger, no thirst, other than an admittedly odd sense of needing to hit this slime, too ... which I somehow resist. Almost. Aah who am I kidding, I'm gonna hit that.

Third, I still have range of motion and freedom, and have walked this room again and again, to mark the time (also ignoring Sarge's warnings without consequence). How is it, exactly, a thing of bones like me can still move? I sense and maybe even hear and slightly see, when I focus on me, bits of energy binding the bones together. Not literally tied together, but bound near each other to give the same effect as cartilage, as if they would be there if I were literally alive. Almost microscope levels of magnifying, just to see these tiny zaps of some energy pass through where the bone cartilage would buffer the bone on bone compressions. If I drag out my trusty dictionary to study any of this-

-oh? Oh. I had a dictionary, did I? Yes I think I did, and a large one. I have a feeling I'd been a literary girl too. Could be I have a voracious ― if that's a word ― thirst for reading and maybe writing. Smart. I would hope I'm a cute one too ― but smart is certain. This still doesn't give me a sense of how old I am either ― but in X days of introspection to realizing I didn't have the sex organs ... I'd say, in puberty, or maybe just to the last stage of it. Puberty? Another word/thought I somehow both knew and didn't know. It's a sense of being capable of this 'sex' stuff too. I did have a thought of not having a monthly visit of 'Aunt Flo'. Though I would like to have family again-

But from it ... pretty sure I'd been here longer than one of those 'twenty eight day' cycles. Maybe even two, or three, times as long. Just, days unending, waiting for something to happen. Yet nothing of the cycle ever was felt. Could a girl skeleton ever menstruate- No, could I ever procreate? I ... well no I don't have a feeling of wanting a baby ... now ... but to say never, in a ba-ga-zillion millennia ... this, frikkin sucks.

Fourth, I have nothing. I'm wearing nothing, but neither are most of the others. Nothing to cover, nothing to hide or protect in the first place. We are just standing, walking bones. But, it's okay, because I seem to have some latent feeling too, of ... ahem ... wanting to run around free of clothing anyway. Wait. No, one in this group has a short pole ― hey take your mind out of the gutter ― a staff type of weapon ― nothing special or ornate. Just a wooden stick to swing around. Sarge being the main exception of the group ― and Corporal Blue over there, and Corporal Fart too, then not to forget Private Mace.

Okay so to pass the boredom in the last few weeks I had started giving them names, identities, at least to set them apart in mind. I gave Corporal Blue the name from his leather cap with a blue painted streak on it. Hmm, his bone structure made him look buffed out, too; or ― what the hell, I think this place is gonna start getting to me if I think a fellow skeleton is handsome and make me wanna bone with him. Nah, he's probably one of those 'pretty boy' types to be written about in all the hot blue colored BL novels-

-what no I didn't say anything. Nu uh, not a word said okay.

And Corporal Fart has the leathery flap tied around his waist, covering front and back like a loincloth. Except on him the effect looks ridiculous because he has neither dick nor ass to hide from view; I'd lifted it just to check there too, as I did on every one body here. Like, totally, fer sure, not a thing down there. If anyone dares say I speak 'Valley girl' speak, I'll ... I will smite them! I totally will ... totally!

-but in context, if I recall military rank and rating names and other terms, 'Sarge' is probably more a 'Lance Corporal' than a true sergeant. And so bearing the weapon he does I'll call him Lance Corporal Lance. Hello, Lance ... er I'm still thinking Sarge too. Wanna lance with me? Er freaking dance-

Fifth, obviously I'm not alone ― because they are here too. My silent companions. But in a sense I have not seen anyone say or do something 'smart' ― or anything at all ― it just leads me to think I am a unique entity.

Unique. If words have a taste, I think I like this word's flavor. One of a kind, special, better than normal, eh ... what am I. Beyond a mere skeleton who can outthink the others.

---

Okay so this slime thing got away ― this time ― then rolled right into another room. But that was a mere hour ago; or maybe two. And now, it's back; on its way "out of here" maybe. Making a beeline for the entry point or doorway. Gee take me with you?

The other time this unit tried killing the oozy thing which rolled around, it did not go so well for them. The two corporal skeletons struck out with their staffs while the rest kicked with their feet or bent down and hit with their palms. Some of them now have broken finger, hand, and arm bones too ― seems skeletons here are not strong too. But if I am not strong either, at least I am smart; I'd managed to kick my bony foot through the slimy mass and splatter it across legs and feet and floor. Only for a moment; the best I could do in the situation. Then it rolled itself back together, even absorbing the bits of itself from my bones. If I could guess I might even think it was peeved at me for almost killing it. Dang, I almost got what was in the center, too.

After this, I'd held back to let others try it, while watching their success or failure. Mostly just failure; but at least when the combat started, gray visual tones grew back to partial colors, so I could 'see' the color or texture of the slime. Would this be a magenta colored slime? I had also seen which way out of the area the creature left, from here; not the same way it came in. But still, once out of 'our' sight for a minute, these skeleton boys just ... went back to some idle stance; and my vision grew gray too. But this idle pose of theirs, is-

... as if they ― me too, I have to admit ― are in a game, forced to do an 'idle animation loop' stance ... but that's just mad. If it's a game, what game ― Legend of Leagues or something?

Also, unit, ha ― what unit? If I had the dictionary thing I might be thinking a unit meant one or more people in a group made for a similar purpose, with one or more 'leaders'. I see no leader but Lance Corporal/Sarge; or ... am I ... the unit leader? It could be, because I am thinking about things, and I've not seen Sarge do more than turn and glare and 'order'. Gives me the willies ... and if I had the organs for it I'd be leaking yellow stuff when he does command. Well then if I should 'lead' ... lead what ... what does this mean? Pretty sure at some point, something bigger or stronger or scarier than the slimy thing will come in here ― and someone will have to be their boss, here. Is Sarge up for the task?

In point of fact, at least we ― the imperial we, of which my 'unit' is not near an entry ― can get saved from unwarranted instant defeat; not sure about the other units. Our team is fairly in the middle of the room, so what I think might be east and west, the two shorter walls in this space. Both have two doors, both human sized passages through them, to whatever is beyond.

This goes back to my thoughts in these many days, what exactly is this place? Why does a single room like this have this many skeletons ― or, skeletons at all ― while allowing us to just stand here and do nothing? Ah ... oh no I just had another random thought ... a d, dungeon?

Dungeon. Or, from some truly weird though, an old spelling of this word pops to mind ― donjon. Some place where people are ... hmm, now why am I thinking, 'incarcerated'? Placed? Stored?

If I go beyond 'life' to being a 'soul' ... am I. Am I possibly still a soul? Bones alone, yes; bones with soul? Hmm maybe. Bones plus soul plus alive ... not sure. Afraid to find out, one way or the other.

---

On one particular day, out of nowhere an adventurous pair entered from one end of the room, so all our visions perked up at the intrusion. Two of them, both human. One of them clearly a teenage girl with a hooded cloak and wood staff ― not even as far through puberty as I think I am, or should be ― the other clearly a boyish fighter with a sword and weak leather armor. Both of similar in appearance and then maybe siblings.

The girl is pretty, maybe ― on the short side of maybe thirteen, a little plump around the waist but it's of no concern right now. With shoulder length reddish orange hair, she wore a dark green cloak running to mid thigh length hanging open all the way down, but a miniskirt of woven goat hair dyed medium blue ― oh I think my observation level has risen. But this boy who I think is maybe her younger brother could be somewhere between handsome or girly too. His hair curls on top and covers half his face and runs shoulder length. He wears a common shirt cut like a v-neck but since he's a male it's an unnecessary detail. Trap?

Also ... for what I thought ... what's a trap.

D, don't answer that. I get the shivers.

But here they are ... Humans! Finally I can see some fellow humans. Hey maybe then I can try to greet and talk to some fellow-

"Yeah, I was right," calls the short girl, speaking out in a know-it-all tone. "My little explorer slime showed me this place, just like this. Ha-ha, see Dean, see all of these crappy skeletons, just waiting to be blown to bits-"

Hey that's not nice-

"Well they're scary, sis, but if we're not running-"

"What? No, Dean ― we didn't come all this way after Grampa said not-"

"-but I wanna go back now, even if you did let me touch your thing finally-"

"Aah alright then, Dean, fine! Just, stay a little while, help me out a while, then after we go ... you can touch it once more."

... incest? Is this what you two are up to, here? Some place to play your private games?

"-Okay!" Dean shouts back at her, a strange look on his face. "Then ... I'll take them on the right, Dina; if you take the left?"

Hey. Listen; I'm like you-

"Just ... don't drop your butter knife, Dean." She laughs, and the boy's face burns red.

-no don't fight you two, come here, I wanna talk to someone. Talk, or let me hug someone organic at least.

"-b, b, but th, that was training, Dina! I made it to the end of the third day without letting it fall any more!"

Hey! Listen to me!

"... well fine then; I guess it might be maybe a little heavy. I got the group on the left ... even if your side seems easier-"

"Charging Kick!" he called out, not waiting a second more.

... truly? A called attack? Against a skeleton already in arm's reach?

Something tells me, this duo was going to be ... trouble. Or maybe not; let's see ... the kick went at the wrong angle, and the boy ... toppled?

"Gaah! It tripped me!"

... what, no, you did not get tripped; not from where I stand-

"-b, brother! Hurry, get up! We can't stay too long!"

"I ... I know that sis!"

"Egsplomsion!" the girl chanted, and a lancing gust of ashy sparks lept out from her little staff.

"Irony Clapper!" the boy shouted yet another attack, then swung at his nearest three. At the last second his yelled attack turned his blade edge away from the bone bodies, to 'clap' against the bones ... with not so much of a force.

Meanwhile, the gust of tiny sparks from the girl passed slowly through those nearest skeletons to her, only the closest three but passed on through with no other effect. And the boy's attack, a repeat of the same called words ... as before, lightly hit on the skeletons' bodies, not even properly knocking them back an inch.

"Th, they're too strong! Y, you're right, let's get out of here!" the girl squealed, as these bone men slowly turned to her, regrouping without pause, and stepped forward.

No ... we're not. Not so great, compared to what you should be able to do. You are both just ... too weak.

"I, I don't know, Dina! They're too much-"

"-I know! I'm s, sorry! I thought we could take it-"

I truly want to laugh, if I could; but it might clue them into the idea of me being different ... and I don't want them to think this, yet.

Both taking a quick glance around, they stepped back through the previous door and left. But I heard their voices say more.

"Hey sis ― did it look like that one skeleton was watching us more than the others did? I ... I'm scared of them, of their creepy looks of bone-"

-um. You mean me?

"No, brother, skeletons are just stupid. No intellect with them except for the mage skeletons, and even then Grampa said they're easy-"

"-I don't care! I wanna go home and crawl back in bed! I miss mommy!"

"... yeah me too, Dean; well, you can touch me here again, if it will calm you ... and I'll even touch yours too, like Grampa taught me-"

---

As they finally have disappeared from my hearing range, taking their woes along with them, I sighed. Well, clattered a jaw at the strange encounter of the day.

What, the, hell, was, this.

What were these two ― a small incestuous costume play team or something? Was this ... a joke, or a prelude to another encounter?

From the start, it seemed like both of them truly had weak concepts for attacks. Like, chuuni levels of attacks-

-never mind I do not know what this 'chuuni' thing is. No, nope, no clue at all, never heard that term before okay?

-not even enough concern for me to feel sorry their stepping right into the middle of two skeletons right there at the door as they walked. Like they should have known, right? But if they had made it far enough in, could I have even then tried to talk to them somehow, or would they still have been eager to fight?

So the girl sorta like a mage had called out an attack which ― even within my hearing range ― seemed a misspelled error. And the swordsman/boy ... ha-ha *snort* this was rich. Not only did he call out something so goofy it also weakened his attack? 'Irony Clapper' indeed. The irony being, it did not help his attack strength one bit.

Wait. I see ... something ... I see, something got left behind-

The team ... also left this pack?

... ahem. Free loot is free! Don't mind if I do-

Calmly, rationally, because it's already my routine ― I walk the small way, skirting the other group of skeletons who are back in place ― and bend slowly, to 'see' this thing.

Item: Junior Adventurer's Backpack
Value: 2 silver 111 copper
Notes:
- contains 30+ items
- enchanted with 'Featherweight' ability, reducing weight

Oh cool; something like a game status screen- How the f do I know this pop-up is such a thing. Do I know the game things-

From an exterior view, it's a thick canvas bag laid down flat. On the upper part it has thick straps meant for the whole thing to be carried around upon the adventurer's back. I see it also has some form of extra enchantment too ― and it's a nice one. The stitching looks well done, no tears in the material, though I do note the greasy stain down the side indicates something inside has leaked in a random way. Ugh; whatever it came from, also smells too ― something strong enough to ward off a bear ― does this world have bears in it?

Well I can't just ... rummage through the things here, now can I? Even if the children from before left, I'd want to examine each thing in detail, and that might take some amount of time. It may hold thirty plus items ... but, with this enchantment too ... can I somehow still pull it away from where it sits? I dunno, let's see-

Erg-

It slides across the rough stone floor, causing some of my fellow skeletons to turn slowly to observe; but at least too the package is coming with me. My little finger coiled on the leather strap strains, some energy connecting it sorta 'snaps' ... but other than the pinkie finger bones hanging loose at a new angle, it still seemed to be connected. And checking my unit too, Sarge doesn't seem to mind anymore; it's even as if I am no longer his minion to order around, but at least he and the others aren't attacking me. Woo hoo! Well, I say this, but maybe he's my type or could be a daddy figure so I'd wanna hang around and bother him, tease the heck outta him? I'd like to let him touch me, for once, if we both were organic, or had certain organic parts-

Ahem ... this backpack ... where to take it-

-somewhere not here? Through one of the other doors maybe?

In the meantime, the other skeletons have decided I am not worth following, not even with their eyes to watch me. They have their marching orders ... or so I could assume. Aside the entertainment of the slime and then the odd siblings, none of the skeletons move at all; they only stay static, locked in place. I must be a strange thing to them, if they even think it through, me going outside the bounds where they are thinking I should be ... 'with them'.

So even if the backpack has mass and has something to make it feel lighter, it's still heavy enough. Maybe ― and oh I feel like I'll hate to admit this ― maybe a female skeleton is just ... weaker than the male skeletons-

-then, what ... what do I get in exchange ... better personality? Bigger pelvis and thigh gap? Better nurturing tendencies? A desire to suck a d-

---

After a length of time I drag the bag past where I stood all along too, to the opposite end of the room even, the southeast door. But hmm, this looks odd to me. I see the northeast exit which goes to the next room; but I also see some lesser door not currently in use. For some reason, I just ... never tried it yet. But now, with the pack, I need a room. If I lean against-

Whoa! The door somehow swung open ... with a dry creak of its rusty hinge, but inside is true darkness. No light ― not like this matters; I realize I've been seeing in darkness and dimly lit gray tones all along since waking up here. But also ― I found a whole mess ... of rats!

Rats.

Now, oops I did it again, a whole herd of them are pouring through the new opening I made for them, and forcing their way in here. Dozens- no, hundreds, of them. These critters are scurrying into this other room; causing all the skeletons to run in fury, again trying to hit where the invaders were, not where they would be. Did these boys never learn-

It's a comedy of errors ... if it weren't also serious. Seriously, stop. Stop. Stop!

So I guess I have nothing serious to fear, from getting bitten ― not having any organic ... organs. Still I'd like for them to not be so eager to climb up my leg bones and into ... ugh, what could be a more intimate place than a girl's pelvis-

.... but the other skeletons ... they don't get it. They can't hear me, either; so my warnings are going unheeded. They're breaking each other trying to defeat the little rodents who are still swarming this room, en masse. And, after they break themselves ... see here, Corporal Fart is already disarmed ― in how he lost both arms, and is as good as ended. Even if my man Lance is a slight bit better aim, it seems he's still not as smart as I, and also is ... okay so a weapon can break. Nice going there, ya hunk of junk; bad boy, whatcha gonna do when they come for you-

-I did not just think some strange lyrics, did I? No, nope.

This whole scene is depressing; pretty soon I'm going to be the only one alive, and alone here. Aah fuck it, I'm gonna stop resisting the call to fight, and hit some of them too. Maybe I will gain some experience, or something.

-banzai!

---

It's taken about two days of rodents running around, and most of my 'unit' comrades have already done themselves in by the end of the second hour. But I've also noticed something peculiar. One more hour has passed, and the skeleton has come back, restructured itself, returned to stand in place, before again ... you guessed it, slashed and stomped at the swarming meeces.

So I do gain a sense of not needing to worry about 'death' so much; I think I can 'come back' like they did. Okay, fine ... if I fight and die, I will return too. Only, they don't seem to be any better, and if I gauged any of their acts, they might even be less than they were. Am I to become like them too ― less of a former human and more a common skeleton?

... it's been a couple days of this; but eventually a fair ninety percent of the rats who haven't all scurried away from here have got slaughtered. Even I got in a few good hits, since I know their running pattern when they're running around. It's nothing like a competition, clearly. But at least my kill count would be over thirty little critters ... and I seemed to have gained some experience for the deeds. My bone body seems to consume some kind of energy flowing into it, each kill. The first one felt like a slight bit more energy than the others, though.

Name: <nameless>
Titles: <none>
Age: 112 y 313 d 11 h
Sex: <sexless>
Level: 2 (35/40 xp)
Stats: <hidden, intellect too low>
Skills: <hidden, intellect too low>
Equip: <none>
Other: <hidden, intellect too low>

... I think I should get offended by at least half of this.

It sort of follows the same format of what I saw for Sarge, er, my main guy Lance. While I don't remember a name ... I do know I had one once. So, age? Unholy fried shit on salty crackers, that's a bitter pill to swallow. Well. For someone or something so old, at least I'll stay this young at heart. And hey, like a game I thought of before, somehow I do have a level and stats and skills ... but they're hidden from me. Other ... other what-

I am just a few points shy of reaching a level three? Hmm; I should be trying harder to hit some more rats? Well anyway, it's going to come to me sooner or later.

Let alone, I am a sexless creature now, I can't enjoy what I have a vague feeling I did in the past. The weakest trace of a faint memory of something I did, or said, racing into my mind without bidding-

'-harder daddy, harder, faster! Yeah daddy right there, push it daddy, push it deep inside, yeah cum inside-'

-m, moving along. Picking my jaw off the floor ... or I would, if it had detached. For now I'm glad it does not. Not sure I could reattach this jaw the same if it did fall off. But that's not the burning thought of the second.

... was I a tease, or ... a pervert?

Um. Does, this make me, a ... what's the word ... degenerate?

Noooooo!