Moving to Liras streets from the gas-stations roof feels to Karl like stepping into a scene he previously only saw painted. Watching the apocalypse from above allowed his mind to disassociate, but entering the streets of the doomed world robs him of that privilege. He looks towards Betty to find some comfort in shared discomfort, but she seems entirely unfazed.
They push through the crowd that surrounds the knight. A fervour had broken out as the knight falsely blamed a young man for the cigarette butt that fell into the back of his armour. Other people have come to the side of the accused to defend him from the royal justice, others are backing the knight. “They’ve split already,” Betty says.
“At least our group managed to last longer than this lot of self-important vigilantes.”
“Yeah, but to be fair, we were also at least three times as self-important,” Betty says and Karl chuckles. “So, before we get started, any substance in particular you’d like to try?” Betty asks Karl as they start walking towards the cities centre.
“Not like I’m the expert here. I heard you say some great things about Golden, but to be honest I doubt we’ll have much of a choice.”
“Oh man, you’re right, it’s not like most people are gonna sell during this shitstorm. There’s gotta be cops all over the place. Well, then we’ll just have to make do with whatever drugs find their way to us. No being picky!” Karl rolls his eyes.
“Fine Betty, I won’t turn down drugs from strangers.”
“That’s a good boy.” The sound of a bottle breaking echoes through the street. Betty and Karl turn their heads to the source of the sound, an alleyway right next to them, and spot the man with sunken eyes they had just seen rob the liquor store. The two bottles he managed to steal slipped out of his hands and exploded on the ground.
“Fuck! All that shit for nothing,” he says and curses some more. Betty walks over to him. He gets startled, but calms down as he realizes that she’s neither a knight nor a cop. “Watch out girl, there’s broken glass all over the place.”
“I’ll be fine,” Betty responds before unstrapping her ukulele from her back, “You want some help with that?”
“I don’t think a happy tune is gonna do much good,” the stranger says as he steps back from the destroyed bottles.
“A happy tune always does good.” She takes out a piece of chalk from a dimensionally enhanced bag strapped to her belt and draws a rune circle around the shattered bottles. After sitting down next to them, she unstraps her ukulele from her back and starts playing a calm, happy melody. A few bars later, the glass shards shiver a little, before moving towards each other. She increases her speed and the shards click together, merge and form larger parts before approaching the bottle.
“Woah,” the man says with his mouth hanging open. Karl steps into the alleyway with his hands in his pockets.
“That’s no ordinary ukulele,” Karl says.
“I guessed as much. Where’d someone as young as her get her hands on such a powerful artefact?”
“Her great-grandmother was an extremely powerful and semi-sane witch. She thought it’d be funny to infuse a ukulele with a ridiculous amount of constructive arcane energy. It’s been passed down her family ever since, but none managed to use it as successfully as Betty here.” The bottles have reformed completely. Betty stops playing, straps her family heirloom on her back and hands the stranger his bottles.
“Sorry, most of the booze already leaked into the ground. But there’s still enough left to get shitfaced with!”
“Getting shitfaced is overrated, I’d rather share this with you two.” He offers Betty one of the bottles. She gladly accepts and takes a hefty sip before passing it to Karl.
“I’m Betty by the way. This is Karl.”
“The names Sam. You’re my knight in shining armour Betty.” Sam says as he extends a hand.
“Please don’t insult me Sam,” she says and shakes his hand. Karl coughs up some of the booze and hands it back to Sam.
“This is way too little to pay back your kindness. Ya’ll got any plans tonight?” Sam says.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Not yet we don’t,” Betty says.
“Let me take you to this party I’m heading to, I can find you a much more suitable reward there.”
“Is it drugs?” Sam laughs.
“It can be!”
“Hell yeah!” Betty pumps her fists and excitedly high fives Karl and the three of them start moving. “So, I take it then that you’re not evacuating?”
“Nah. This is like, what? The fifth apocalyptic event in Lira this year? I got a job I can’t afford to lose. Can’t just skip town whenever a demonic hellscape portal opens up or a dragon burns down half the city.”
“Your boss isn’t evacuating, either?” Betty asks.
“She doesn’t have it much better than me. One or two lost days means the difference between rent and no rent. I could never abandon her like that, not after all she’s done for me. She’s the only reason I’m not rotting in some cell right now.”
“That’s one hell of a debt. Why’d you be in a cell, if you don’t mind me asking?” No one ever does, when Betty is the one asking.
“Drug bust. Caught me with some Eget.”
“Eget?” Karl asks.
“It’s an illicit psychologically active spell. Transforms your remaining future life-time into current stamina,” Betty explains.
“Minimum sentence for that shit’s two years. Just cause I needed the extra energy to work my second job. I wasn’t gonna let it go down like that, so I escaped. Fucked up though. Hurt a knight on my way out.”
“Shit,” Betty says, “Bodily injury to a lawful authority. That’s a ten-year minimum.”
“Yeah,” Sam says, “I’m not gonna lose my best ten years just cause of some bullshit drug charge and a glorified tin cans scraped knee. Jules, my boss, gave me shelter and a job. That’s no small favour, and I’m not gonna abandon her every time a football field sized dragon shows up.”
They keep their conversation about the economical injustices in Lira going for a while, while they make their way to Sam’s party. Their destination becomes noticeable long before its visible. Most of the town has fallen into a disturbing silence, but as they close in on the house party, sounds of joy and excitement fill the streets.
“They sound pretty happy considering they could be obliterated at any moment,” Betty says.
“Nothing keeps the spirit going like free booze,” Sam responds. Above the entrance red paint spells out ‘End of The World Party’. “Plus, with all the cataclysm going on recently, people have gotten weirdly ironic about it.” Sam goes inside. Betty intends to follow him, but Karl holds her back.
“Betty. All these people, none of them know what’s really going on,” he whispers to her.
“Wouldn’t do them much good if they did,” Betty responds.
“Still, this feels… weird.”
“Look, if you want to so spend your last hours on earth ruining hundreds other people’s last hours on earth, go right ahead. But to me, personally, shutting up and getting drunk and high for free seems like a much better decision for everybody involved.”
“You’re right. Rationally, I know you’re right. I just can’t shake this shitty nagging feeling that we’re doing something wrong.”
“That shitty nagging feeling,” Betty says, “is called paralyzing, devastating guilt. To which there really is only one cure.”
“Let me guess. Drugs and booze.”
“Fuck no. Intense and painful self-reflection plus years of therapy. But since that’s pretty hard to come by at the moment, we might as well give drugs and booze a shot.” Betty says and holds open the door for Karl.
“Hmm,” he begins, his mood slightly elevated by Betties quips, “I guess we could do some intense and painful self-reflection while we’re drinking?”
“Sure, we could!” Betty says, “Or, you know,” She rests her arm on his shoulder and leads him inside the house, “we could also not!”
Once inside Betty spots Sam already chatting up one of the other party guests. “Ah, there you are!” he shouts as they come closer. He turns to his conversation partner. “Pleasant chatting with you, but I have a debt to pay,” he says to him before quickly turning around and nudging Betty and Karl up the stairs. “Thank god you’re here, dude wouldn’t shut up about his party.”
“He was trying to get you to go to another party? One he’s not even attending?” Betty asks confused and Sam laughs.
“No man, his political party. Wanted to recruit me for it.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“Said I reserve political conversations for sober times, he kept on going though. You got me out of another bind there, seems I’m even more indebted to you now. Let’s try and find this buddy of mine, he’s holding.”
“Easier said than done, this place is huge and there’s like five-hundred people here.”
“He’s easy to spot. Kinda looks like a mix between an arcane physics student and a racoon.”
“I have no idea what that’s supposed to look like.”
“Trust me, you’ll know him when you see him.”
They walk up the stairs to the first floor and are presented with a choice of three doors. “Let’s split up. Holla if you spot the booze or my racoon friend!” Sam opens the door the first room. Blinding red light fills the floor followed by horrifying sounds that escape the rooms grasp and pierce the threes very souls. Karl’s eyes water involuntarily. “Peace!” Sam shouts and shuts the door behind him.
“Uhh, I think Sam just entered a portal to some kind of nightmare dimension,” Karl says as he rubs his eyes.
“You know what they say, it’s no party without a gateway to hell,” Betty responds as she swings open the second door. Inside there’s a crowd gathered around a large summoning rune circle. A shirtless man is holding a sacrificial knife to his right hand and the people around him continuously chant ‘Sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!’.
“Oh, hell yeah, this is definitely the room for me,” Betty says before chanting along with the crowd as she enters the room and shuts the door behind her.
The room falls silent. Karl slowly turns towards the last remaining door. His door. He places his right hand on the doorknob and takes a deep breath. Slowly he turns the knob and pulls the door open.