Inky's Collection of Shorts

Ghost -- Part 3

This time, we found Inky and Blinky first.

They looked bedraggled, like they'd fought through multiple battles already — which I was sure they'd done and won. The edges of Inky's clothes were stained with blood. A streak of it ran across his mask, like he'd tried to wipe it away but had only made it worse.

Blinky looked slightly better. His weapon was sheathed, unlike Inky's dual blades, and he seemed more alert. He responded well to the environment's stimuli. It made him stronger, much more dangerous. I decided that, in the best interest of my staying alive, it would be better to make myself known instead of startling him.

"Blinky," I said quietly, then again louder. "Blinky. We're here."

He looked over, his gaze sweeping across the trees, until it settled on me and Pinky behind the trees. "Clyde!" he said, his shoulder sagging in relief. "There you two are. We were worried."

"Blinky was worried," Inky interjected. I could almost hear the frown in his voice. "You were with Pinky. I knew the two of you would be fine."

He squinted at us, then at Pinky. His blue eyes went wide as he took in her condition, and then he was rushing forward, his hands fumbling over Pinky's stomach where her shirt was stained with blood. "What happened?" he asked, aghast.

"Platinum happened," Pinky said. She slapped away his hand and took off her mask, clipping it onto her belt. Her cheeks were flushed. A bead of sweat traced its way down the side of her face. I could tell instinctively that she had a fever, which wasn't good. I didn't like her chances if she didn't get it treated soon.

"'Platinum'?" Inky repeated. He took in the redness of her cheeks, and I knew that he could tell that something was wrong as well. "What happened?"

"It was one person," she sighed. "They jumped us suddenly. I... I wasn't expecting it." She tilted her head at me and grinned. "But Clyde saved me."

"Clyde?" Blinky said. He'd taken off his mask, and I could see his face light up. "Really? That's fantastic!"

He clapped me on the back and grinned. I let out a sheepish laugh. I still didn't know how to feel about what I'd done, but he looked so happy for me that I couldn't help but smile as well.

"I think the Platinum Order sent a Stained, two Ghosts, and a Bedlam," Inky said, counting on his fingers. His gaze raked over me, considering me from an entirely new perspective. "You were a Pacifist before, and killing someone so far above your level must've boosted you to at least... the seventh rank?"

He pushed up the sleeve of my shirt and stared at the tattoo there. Pinky peered over his shoulder with interest. "Arrivist," she read. "The sixth rank. He must've killed a Ghost to have jumped four ranks."

"A Ghost," I repeated in shock. I'd taken out someone on the same level as Pinky?

Blinky patted me on the back again. "Sixth is good!" he said. "It's a lot better than tenth, at least."

He was right. I hadn't expected a single kill to take me so far up. Some part of me wondered how far I would've jumped if, instead of a Ghost, I'd taken out a—

No. Stop. Don't think about it.

Don't fall into the mindset of this world.

I met Inky's eyes and realized that he was watching me carefully, waiting for my reaction. Waiting to see how I would handle my new rank.

He was a Ghost. Blinky and Pinky were Ghosts, and they had all gone through the same process already. They'd been in my position, blood staining their hands for the very first time, their eyes wide as they took in the body at their feet. I tried to imagine Blinky in that position — Blinky, who was so nice, who didn't fit in with the world we'd found ourselves in. I tried to imagine Inky, scared for once, struggling with the revelation of what he'd done.