Let's pump the brakes shall we?

Not too long ago, Palm had been laying very still under a beaten but cared for countertop in the hurricane of violence that had made it's way into his now very ironically named bar. It felt wrong how quickly things had descended into madness and spiralled out of his control, but alas when you close yourself off from the world you can only expect the worst when reality comes knocking or more likely kicking down your front door.

He didn't have the time to pray for mercy as an unknown assailant had closed in on him. He had simply just accepted his fate. But the world wasn't done with him just yet, for as odd as it was he felt himself slowing down.

'Slowing down?' He thought idly, 'that can't be right.'

But as his breath seemed to catch itself in his through Palm realised that something distinctly wrong had just occurred. His vision started bleeding in colour, slowly sifting away into folds of reality that he simply couldn't see.

'Post-death Hallucinations?' He pondered. Perhaps the mystery assassin had done him when he wasn't paying attention, or one of the stray shots had pierced the back of his head.

Either way the soft yellow that had filled his room before was nowhere to be seen, only shades of black and white could be seen. The sounds around him had subsided and he seemed to be stuck. Not unable to move but feeling as though every attempt to was tantamount to wading though thick and heavy sludge. Suffocating.

"I guess I really have reached the end of the line" He spoke sadly and rather slowly. Not exactly what he expected of the afterlife but he would take what he could get. Very different from the often rather visceral depictions his mother used to feed him as a child. Dang, he really missed her.

Looking down he saw an axe. Simple yet elegant in it's own way, the head seemed to have a few nicks and cuts but it seemed well taken care of. It was almost as if- wait a minute. 'That certainly was not there before' he thought with growing nervousness.

It didn't appear with a blinding flash of light or reality distorting tear, the strange object simply sat there as if the spot it lay on were its birth right.

'I don't suppose you know where I am?', A voice rang out. It held a light and ethereal tone which reverberated around Palm's skull, one would even call it graceful or angelic if not for the very distinct hint of sarcasm that the barkeep could smell a mile away. Truly he got the best of customers.

Perhaps slightly aggravated by his lack of reply the voice drawled 'Well to be honest you don't look like you could find your way out of a wet paper bag.' To which he thought ' A seven cycle old child could come up with better insults you ghost of Christmas past.'

He didn't think it was his fault he was this way. Blame the tech team behind mirage, How was he supposed to keep up with a semi self-aware AI that kept recommending him shows he absolutely loved. Looking half-dead was a small price to pay for happiness.

'That film was a product of the prehistoric era you clown, what are you an old man pretending to be young Mr. fossil?' The voice retorted with no small show of glee. Honestly Palm was starting to feel a little impatient and fed up. Insulting his tastes was one thing but refusing to do it to his face was another. Also the voice had been hearing his thoughts, which would be alarming if not for the fact that Palm was almost certain he was dead.

'Listen, to whom this may concern, I'm not interested in recreating a divorced couples fight, you better get explaining and quick.' He thought angrily, 'Am I dead or what, Is this my personal hell? to argue with a disembodied voice why some pieces of history may or may not be really fun to watch?'.

'Well its Lady Theda if you must know, and no your not dead Mr boring.' The voice sighed before tutting. Great she changed his name. 'I simply was unsealed which is why you are currently experiencing what you are now.'

Despite his earlier comment Palm couldn't resist the urge to bite back. 'Oh a Lady, so prim and proper that you are, I didn't realise your explanation was too detailed for the common folk such as myself to understand' his tone laced with annoyance.

'Cry me a river.' Theda scoffed 'Even If I felt like explaining more you wouldn't understand.' The voice which previously seemed to float all around Palm became focused and somewhat sharp, emanating from the axe that lay at his feet. It vibrated softly after each syllable, emitting a gentle blue hue.

Slowly but surely the blue light seemed to rise in intensity. It shone fairly brightly as a figure seemed to be attempting to claw itself out. It was... quite gruesome. Palm turned his eyes away but not before hearing the cracking and snapping which was deafeningly loud amidst the unnatural silence which prevailed earlier.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

In a calm voice which betrayed any semblance of the struggle shown before Theda spoke. 'Returning to my earlier question do you actually know when and where I am, or are witty retorts all your capable of?'.

What a hypocrite. Palm had heaved a mental sigh before turning to face the visage he had caught a glimpse of just moments before. Then proceeding to flinch away immediately barely stifling a yelp.

Ghastly wouldn't be doing to the figure any justice. Despite a fairly normal body of a young woman in what appeared to be an old summer dress floating directly in front of him, gaping holes lay in the areas where a mouth and eyes would lie. They weren't bleeding or anything but seemed slightly torn around the edges. Beyond that they were empty, dark and more importantly terrifying to the barkeeper who lay inches away from their stare.

Theda's face twisted into an open grin upon seeing his reaction, still slowed by the heavy atmosphere that had him encompassed. 'Chicken?' She whispered.

'Now who's referencing pre-historic movies?' Palm retorted his thoughts only betrayed by the slight shaking of his body. The strange Spector simply shrugged her shoulders in response backing up slightly to which he gave her a flat stare.

'We should still be in the crime ridden-city of Checkmate last I checked.' Palm spoke inwardly, 'Also Cycle 99 PIT'.

'...PIT?' Theda questioned whilst moving further away from him checking on her surroundings.

'Post Imperial takeover' Palm clarified, 'Essentially after the Blinding Emperor rose to power and declared his name on all household calendars forever.' He eventually shrugged and said 'If your talking about common time probably cycle 7162, since humanity ventured into the final frontier? I can't remember the last time I saw a history book.'

She seemed to be stewing in the information he had just provided and It honestly gave him time to reflect on what had happened as well. So far a regular day of business had turned into a surprise visit from his favourite majority of Checkmate, being most likely mobsters. Then after fearing for his life and cost of couch replacement miss spooky ghost had decided to what looked like slow down time in order to declare herself unsealed and give no further details.

Now he wasn't a Supernatural like the famous super soldier 'Hercules' or any of the other people out there with the ability to communicate to weird eldritch gods, but Theda had exhibited a lot of very suspicious behaviour.

As it went Humans lived somewhere before they ventured out into space. Nobody knows where they lived and why they left other than maybe to explore the unknown? many records before this time were completely destroyed and It simply became known as the pre-historic era. After realising that they were in fact not alone and many other species out there with much more superior genetics the humans realised that they needed an edge to survive.

The answer was twofold build a more efficient society and develop technology. In these tumultuous times aptly named 'The Burning' everything was upheaved. Structure was destroyed either through internal strife or external influence via the multitude of bigger stronger species we decided to pick a fight with. Unwilling to join another faction people lived like cockroaches. humans simply adapted and reproduced.

In the process a society which heavily valued hard work and personal achievements above all else became the cornerstone for growth, and before long there was a breakthrough. But not in new weaponry or cybernetics or even biochemistry. No it was in Communications.

Some found out after a lot of poking and prodding how to interact with higher lifeforms. Soon enough humanity had it's edge. To be able to reach out to these beings and have them lend power to create Supernaturals. Those who were able to stand on par with champions of other kingdoms. The key to this method of contact being pretty much humanities only closely guarded secret.

Shaken out of his thoughts Palm felt something odd. After being isolated with Theda for a while he had gotten used to the slowed tempo and realised that time was in fact speeding back up. He was finding it easier to breath and felt a jolt of panic.

'STOP STOP STOP' he cried out to Theda in alarm, to which she cocked her head toward him inquisitively.

'I cannot control this' she spoke in his mind 'It was simply an aftereffect of me being thawed out so to speak.' Whilst he was focused on his own problems she had lapped his bar quite a few times and had now settled opposite him hovering directly above the silvered axe.

'You don't understand I'm being attacked If I can't get out of here I'll die!' He exclaimed, only to be met with cold indifference. The black pits in place of eyes now focused entirely on him.

'So kill them' Theda stated rather simply. The nerve of her. It grated at palm to see her nonchalant attitude, he was living in a city full of people who had long become desensitised to the concept of mass murder, bodies lined the street each day and innocents were always found. Of course it could be argued that Palm had lived rather sheltered even in Checkmate but honestly?

He preferred to be that way. Better disgusted by it than feel numb by it even if the latter would probably be better. If he had to suppose the news was most likely to blame, hard to care all that much after the 57th killing that week. It still didn't stop the gnawing and writhing of his stomach after seeing it.

'Listen to me' Theda spoke with quiet anger 'If you are about to be killed It doesn't matter who, what, when, where or why.' she gestured to the axe at her feet. 'Are you prepared to defend your life or will you accept death like you do all else?'

Theda seemed to grow in the face of the rapidly shrinking man who wanted to reply but felt unable to formulate a response 'I cannot begin to speak for your situation but it sickens me to see someone unwilling to face their problems and only choose to hide from them' She continued, 'There is only one option if you wish to live.'

She was right. In a bizarre twisted sense of morals that could potentially lead to blood on his hands he knew she was. Whomever the assailant was it was most likely a gang member and had many many others with them, But he still couldn't dispel his fear.

'No i-i'll knock them out' Palm said stumbling slightly over the words in his mind. Theda didn't reply but simply eyed him down, a strange glint in her non-existent eyes. Time eventually reached it's normal pace, as Palm readied the axe in his hand. His palm cold and wet against the dry clean wooden handle.

Eventually the crunching boots came to a halt very close to the counter.

It was now or never.