Chapter Eight: I’m gonna watch you bleed
“Ah Selbani Tah.” The large man spoke.
Oh crap, Marc thought to himself. He lifted his head to get a better view. The soreness throughout his body rejected his attempts, but he managed to move a bit without grunting. The man covered the entire entrance of the tent, blocking out most of the light from outside, so he hardly had to turn his head to get a good impression.
It was a giant, but he didn’t appear menacing. He stood, easily six foot 10 or taller, with a professional wrestler’s physique. Like that famous one, but not bald. With dark hair and a milk chocolate complexion, it was difficult to place what race he was. Hispanic, could be Filipino? Most of the people around Silver City were either white or Hispanic. The eyes were larger and the nose sharp. He also had a massive mustache and beard that made it even harder to place him. Not that it mattered seeing as how this was not the Earth he knew. Marc felt a pang of panic as he realized he probably didn’t speak English, or maybe any language from Earth for that matter.
“Chabrada Pikal Tur Ameth,” the man spoke again, more softly this time, keeping his hands open and taking a half step back. He stared straight into Marc’s eyes as though he wanted to dig something out of his brain with the stare. “Karte sabeh Tashtilik.”
Wait a second, Marc thought in a moment of clarity. His eyes darted around his view and checked the windows that remained open from the interface. Then he found what he was looking for.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADD LANGUAGE PROFICIENCY FOR TASHTILIK? YES/NO?
He mentally accepted the question and
【SKILL ACQUIRED: LANGUAGE PROFICIENCY - TASHTILIK [1]】
BASIC PROFICIENCY GIVES YOU COMMON VOCABULARY, SIMPLE GRAMMAR, PRONOUNCIATION, BASIC READING AND WRITING. CONTINUED USE WILL RAISE YOUR PROFICIENCY.
LEVEL UP YOUR INTERFACE TO ADD ADDITIONAL LANGUAGES. CURRENTLY USED (1/1)
“Do you understand me?” The big man spoke, but this time he spoke in English, though at first it sounded as though he was talking into a cardboard box. The voice sounded distant and had a strange echo. Marc slowly nodded. “So you do understand language.” The man seemed relieved. “Can you speak?” the voice sounding clearer now and more normal.
Marc nodded again. Then quickly blurted a quiet and tentative “yes.”
“Good! I was worried you were a <########>. From the look of you, I had no idea what to expect. How are you feeling? Can you drink something?” the words flowed out. There were still some muffled words, however. Maybe the translation wasn’t complete. But Marc was relieved that they could at least communicate. At that last question, he remembered how thirsty he was.
“Yes…. Please.” He stammered. The man disappeared and returned a few seconds later carrying a bag on a strap. It looked a little like the waterskins he had seen in old Cowboys and Indians movies but was longer and shaped like a banana. It also looked more fancy, with metal fasteners on each end and a small tube with a grey fitting of some kind at the end. The man knelt by Marc’s head and with almost no effort at all, slid his hand under his neck and using his forearm gently tilted Marc’s torso until he was up to about a 45-degree angle. Then with his other hand, he guided the end of the nozzle to Marc’s lips and placed the fitting to his mouth. Marc saw a small hole on one end and sucked it in. As thirsty as had been before, the warm, leathery taste of the water did not bring the relief that Marc had been expecting. His stomach revolted and he coughed and sputtered and the man drew the tube away.
“Slowly,” the man calmly said. “Just take it in small sips. I’ll give you as much as you want, just drink it slowly”
The water did help his parched lips and throat, and he was still very thirsty, but the odd-tasting and warm liquid made him hesitate. Feeling stronger now, Marc tried to pull himself up into a seated position. The man pulled back eyeing him with the deep, unblinking stare again. Then Marc pulled his water bottle from his inventory and the man’s eyes turned into saucers as he fell backward out of the tent. Looking utterly confused the man dropped the water bag to the ground and spread out his arms in front of himself like he was getting ready to pounce on Marc like a tiger. His eyes narrowed and in a deadly serious voice, he spoke again.
“You are a storage user? A Space Mage? How… <#########>?”
Marc was momentarily shocked by the sudden change in the man’s demeanor, but then he realized that he had just made a big mistake. He recalled something Mary had mentioned to him while she was explaining the “hacker’s toolkit” that she had given him, all these special powers he now had.
“You will want to keep these abilities secret from the inhabitants of that place.” She had warned. “While special abilities are quite common there, much more than they are in this world, yours will be special. If the wrong people notice them, you might get the attention that could be… troublesome.”
Marc could kick himself for having screwed this up. The first person he had met, only seconds into his first conversation with a person from a parallel world and he had blown the whole thing. He pulled the bottle back into his storage but then realized that it wouldn’t fix anything. It would probably make them even more suspicious. Why was he screwing things up so badly? Anxiety gripped him. He started to breathe faster, in quick shallow breaths. He pulled up his knees and pulled his legs in, ignoring the pain in his side and knee.
The man’s glare softened. He seemed to calm down and the fear and surprise left his eyes. He knelt but notably did not move closer to Marc.
“What’s your name?” He said slowly, almost in a whisper. Marc didn’t make eye contact however and did not immediately respond. “My name is Grenn.” The big man said.
Marc remained silent for a few more seconds but then turned to look at the man. “Marc, I’m Marc Churchill”. He said. Again the man’s look clouded over in confusion.
“Marc… Churchill?” He said the name slowly almost like he was trying to remember if he knew. That’s not possible, right? People in the world couldn’t possibly know his name could they Marc wondered. “Marc” the man spoke again, “Your name is Marc?"
“Yes”
“Churchill is your second name?” Grenn asked, though with disbelief noticeable in his voice.
“My last name, yes. Churchill is my last name. Just call me Marc.” Marc spoke quickly, hoping he could gloss over this. He was starting to feel better, and slowly tried to pull himself up. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he tried to make a run for it and how far he could get. Realistically he understood that it was a horrible plan. He could maybe run for three or four steps before falling into a ball, screaming in pain. Meanwhile, this guy looked like he could pick up Marc like a football and run a few stadium lengths, then spike him in the endzone without breaking a sweat.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The man seemed to recognize the deer in the headlight vibe coming off Marc and took another slow step back.
“My name is Grenn.” He repeated. “I’m a Guild member from Clearwater. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He spoke slowly, clearly, and calmly, like a dogcatcher trying to corner a pitbull. Marc just stood facing straight at Grenn, eyes circling to take in the situation. Then he stared at Grenn and tried to figure out what this giant man was going to do. The pop-up appeared right over Tama’s head.
【LIVGRENN REDSHIELD】
Marc instinctively focused on the floating name and it immediately expanded into a large window.
NAME: LIVGRENN REDSHIELD
AGE: 48
BASE LEVEL 72
RACE: HUMAN
AFFILIATIONS: THE GUILD
STATUS: HEALTHY
LEVEL UP YOUR INTERFACE TO GAIN MORE INFORMATION ABOUT LIVGRENN REDSHIELD.
Marc was shocked. He didn’t understand how these “levels” worked, but he played enough games to know that compared to his level 1, This guy was a beast. Level 72! And what was this Guild thing? The man had mentioned it before. This was all so frustrating. It was happening too fast to keep up. Had it just been a day since he woke up in his bed in a New Mexico trailer park? It felt like a lifetime. He talked to God, traveled to a parallel world, got the shit kicked out of him by a rabbit from hell, even put in a full shift, and got fired from his job to boot. Oh yeah, and he died at least once. He needed a minute to absorb all this.
“I’m sorry, I’m kind of messed up.” He pleaded. “I just need to figure out what’s going on.” He put on the most pitiful, helpless look he thought he could muster.
Grenn scowled a bit, then seemed to understand something. He nodded and moved back a few more steps. He pointed to the tree log by the fire. “Sit! You can sit there.” He grabbed the water bag off the ground and held it out in Marc’s direction. Marc looked at it weakly, then shook his head and limped over to the log, lowering himself onto it slowly so he could sit by the fire. Grenn stayed by the tent, a statue now, eyes still focused on Marc, but otherwise completely still.
Marc tried to take stock. First, he checked the map. No more critters nearby, He could see some dots moving around further away, but they seemed to be keeping their distance from the small camp. The blue dot was next to his yellow arrow, and when he focused on it a name appeared next to it.
【LIVGRENN REDSHIELD】
Then in an instant, the letters morphed into
【GRENN】
The camp itself was up against the tree line. He probably was close to where his battle took place. The grass and trees looked similar to where he had been earlier, although there was no sign of the site of his humiliation. There was the lean-to tent and blanket, the campfire, and nothing else in a small clearing beside some large trees.
He looked at the giant man again. Livgrenn Redshield the interface had confirmed for him. He noted that the man had not given his full name, so he should not use his last name and give up he had more information than what was shared. He realized the strange clothing the man wore. At first, it had looked like some kind of biker gang getup. Lots of leather and metal fasteners and such. But the design was closer to some kind of army getup. No exposed skin except his face, nothing loose or hanging off of him. A large leather pouch with several pouches attached and closed with metal fasteners. No zippers or velcro anywhere. He had a pair of very nice boots. Marc had seen similar boots at a camping and fishing store, but they cost a fortune. Marc also noted that there was a large handle sticking out from the man’s side and a leather scabbard attached to the small of the man’s back, the shape and size of a large machete. He also noticed the large bow and quiver of arrows hanging from a tree, along with a leather bag slightly larger than Marc’s backpack. It was likely not a coincidence that the man, Grenn, now stood still directly between Marc and the pack and weapons.
Marc then turned back to the interface. He pulled up his stats to see if there were any changes.
NAME: MARC CHURCHILL
AGE 19 (EARTH RELATIVE TIME)
INTERFACE LEVEL: 20% TO NEXT LEVEL
RACE: DIMENSIONAL TRAVELER
AFFILIATIONS: NONE
STATUS: INJURED, RECOVERING
HEALTH: 85%/100
STAMINA: 55%/100
BASE LEVEL: 1
STRENGTH (STR) [4] +1
CONSTITUTION (CON) [4] +3
INTELLIGENCE (INT) [7] +2
AGILITY (AGI) [5] +1
DEXTERITY (DEX) [6] +1
LUCK (LUK) [0] +1
HEALTH RECOVERY (HR) [0.203%] +1 (HR)/MIN
STAMINA RECOVERY (SR) [0.523%] (SR)/MIN
PASSIVE SKILLS:
APPRAISAL
INVENTORY
CARTOGRAPHY
LANGUAGE PROFICIENCY - TASHTILIK
ENHANCED HEALING [1] HR +1%
LEVEL HEADED [1] (INT +1)
THICK SKIN [1], (CON+2)
ACTIVE SKILLS:
WEAPON PROFICIENCY/CLUB [1]
PUNCHING BAG [1]
EQUIPMENT:
HOODIE* (DUR 5/10)
JEANS* (DUR 5/10)
T-SHIRT* (DUR 3/10)
UNDERPANTS* (DUR 7/10)
SOCKS* (DUR 9/10)
SHOES* (DUR 7/10)
His condition was improving shockingly fast. He was pretty sure his health had nearly bottomed out, but now he was most of the way back to full. He checked the wound on his side, scared of what he would find, but was left in disbelief when he saw that the wound had completely closed up. Dried blood and a scab covering the area with new skin peeking out from underneath. He tentatively stood up again and put his weight onto the injured leg. It was still very sore and somewhat numb, but no worse now than when he had slept on it wrong and woke up with all the circulation cut off. Mary had not been kidding about his recovery ability. He wasn’t invulnerable, as the petting zoo patrol had made clear, but the immortal thing was starting to take shape in his mind.
He needed more information. A lot more information. He needed a plan, a strategy, a base, and resources. He had some amazing abilities to help him do what he wanted. But before any of that, he needed to know as much as possible about this new world and what it would take to survive here. He looked at the still unmoving figure in front of himself and figured this was as good a place to start as any.
“Thank you.” Marc started. “You saved me back there, right? From the killer rabbits, then brought me here and helped me recover. Right?” Marc asked in as calm a voice as he could muster.
“Yes,” Grenn nodded.
“You saved my life. I can’t thank you enough. I got lost…. I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t even know where here is. But you saved me and…” his voice started to crack.
“Enough.” Grenn inserted the word gently. “Don’t worry about anything for now. You are safe. I’m not going to hurt you. Like I said, I’m a Guild member. Your safety is guaranteed.” He spoke firmly and proudly, like a soldier repeating a military aphorism. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about things. I will help you if I can, but the more you can tell me the more I should be able to do.”
Marc nodded.
“But first”, Grenn said continued. “Are you hungry?? He raised an eyebrow and cracked a somewhat forced grin while he raised the water bag again.
Marc tried to hide a grimace, but took the bag and fiddled with the nozzle until he figured out how to open it. He took a small drink from the tube. Sure enough, the lukewarm-tasting water was not pleasant as he let it drain from his mouth down his throat. Still, his stomach now seemed to appreciate the addition of liquid of any sort. As much as Marc wanted to pull out the clean and clear water from his storage, he wasn’t about to make that mistake again, even if his secret was already blown. He took another sip, closed the nozzle, and passed the bag back.
“Thanks” Marc replied. “Yeah, I think I could eat.”