”Come on maaan, I’m a newbie, don’t I deserve at least one piece of meat for free?”
Frey begged to the rather slim man standing behind the meat counter, arms resting heavily atop said counter to block Frey from snatching the meat from one of the many hooks dangling behind him. A stupid thing to do as Frey wouldn’t steal, not now when he’d already been caught.
“Do you think getting fine meat is easy in this city? I don’t care if you’re a newbie, you’ll have to pay for it like everybody else.”
“But I don’t have any money!”
“Then go and wish for some food, you prick”
“But I’ve already used up my wish”
“Well, tough for you, but I don’t care. Go and beg to the other shops if you-“
“But they won’t give me either. Help me butcherer, you’re my only hope.”
“No, fuck off, I won’t give you shit for free. You can just wish for some food tomorrow or something.”
“But that’s too long. I’ll starve before then.”
“Not my problem. Now get the fuck out of my shop before I chop off one of your hands and make you eat it.”
The butcherer said with a red face while grabbing a knife from underneath the counter. A wicked long knife that seemed stupidly sharp, practically glittering in the shop’s bright light. In response, Frey raised his hands disarmingly and took a step back, then smiled.
“So, you’re saying. Meat’s back on the menu?”
“No you fuckwit, I’m saying back the fuck up and get the fuck out before I chop- before I fucking stab you!”
“Okay okay, geez man. Don’t have to be such a bum about it.”
“YOU’RE THE BUM!”
“Says the man who isn’t willing to give a poor soul just a teensy bit of meat.”
“YOU FUCKER! HOW DARE-“
The butcherer started swearing loudly, cursing Frey at the top of his lunges. Silenced when Frey calmly left the store, closing the door behind him in a blissful moment of silence. Though the moment didn’t last, as Frey felt his stomach growl in anger at the missed opportunity for food.
Looking around, Frey sighed a little and ignored the few looks at the muffled sounds that the butcherer drew. Then jumping twice to snug his kobold-pack firmer into place and making sure the bag was fastly secured. Frey started walking with hands firmly placed in his pockets. Walking with long strides as he started whistling loudly to a song, he still didn’t know how it went.
Calmly looking at the sights, he passed a few shops that smelled wonderful. Albeit looking inside through the windows, he was quickly met by frowns from the owners who’d previously thrown him out. Flipping a few of the ruder ones off, Frey continued on leisurely, looking around for any shop he might have missed.
Eventually, and after much walking and a hungry, screaming stomach, he concluded that no, no he had entered, and angered, every food shop in the entire city. Something that should have been impossible in only one day, but he seemed to have done it anyway. Frey had to say, though, that it was very impressive. He even patted himself on the back for the achievement, smiling to himself. Then concluded that a magical city with a wishing-fountain probably didn’t need many dedicated food shops.
Ignoring the logical conclusion in favor of basking in the wondrous light of such an awesome achievement, Frey decided to celebrate by going to the pub, or bar, or whatever people called it. The top dog, and the only dog in town Frey knew, for he had also searched for pubs in his search for food, both for the hope of food and a nice cold drink. He wouldn’t be so lucky though, obviously, he never was, he was only skilled.
Redirecting, he moved towards the top dog, the only pub in the city, whistling and strolling, watching the sights and the people with less interest than the first few times he had walked through the city, already getting used to the very strange city within a giant tower.
It didn’t take long to reach the top dog, having a line of people outside as they waited for either their turn to talk to the guard, or to get inside. Frey didn’t care as he strolled past the line and made a beeline for the door. Stopped in his tracks by a sudden hand on his shoulder. Immediately stopping his whistling to look at whom had so rudely interrupted his march towards a good old beer, he spotted a sympathetic-looking man, very big man, even bigger than himself with a scarred face and muscles practically screaming to be released from the puny fabric he was wearing.
“Could the fine gentleman please release his grip on my rather damaged clothing?”
Frey said, making his voice go an octave deeper than normal, looking up at the man as if looking at a thief about to steal his precious clothing. Damaged clothing, really damaged as they’d been abused to hell and back, though lacking any extra clothing, they would have to do.
“Oh, sorry.”
The guard said in a very mild and high-pitched voice, removing his hand from Frey’s shoulder as he took a step in front of him, blocking him from getting closer to the top dog.
“Excuse me-“
“Hey man, this is hard as it is, but I can’t let you in again. I’m really sorry, and I really feel for you, but if you don’t have any money, we can’t have you begging the patreons for alcohol.”
Frey took a step back, face morphing into an expression of pure disgust, looking up at the guard’s sympathetic frown as he stuttered out.
“H-H-how dare you! Y-You scoundrel! I’m no beggar, I’m a paying customer and I demand respect!”
The guard’s frown turned to a smile, glancing above his shoulder to look at the line, then back down on Frey.
“If my memory doesn’t fail me man, I remember clearly pulling you out, screaming about wanting “but a single drop from the sweetest nectar””
“That can’t be me. Though that man does sound like he was of the finest mind, speaking words of wisdom.”
The guards smiled a little bigger, crossing his arms as he leaned on one of his legs. Frey noticing the guard wearing only shorts, quite colorful shorts, rainbow shorts. The guard drew back Frey’s attention up as he said.
“Uhuh, and you mean to tell me that that guy, with your face, your voice, your backpack, I dig it by the way-”
“Thanks!”
“- and the same set of ruined clothes, aren’t you, my man?”
“Nah, my fine gentle-sir, he’s but an imposter, my deviously planned clone, set-a-wild on this city to explore it for me in case it was filled with monster.”
Frey then leaned in a little closer and looked from side to side, noticing the long line of dissatisfied people behind him, ignoring them as he leaned closer to the guard, whom bent down a little to hear.
“And I’ve found many monsters.”
He whispered, and the guard raised his brows, looking up at the small line of people behind Frey as if looking for anyone who’d overheard them. Then, like Frey, the guard looked around and leaned even closer to Frey, gesturing for him to come closer. Which Frey did, opening his eyes wide as if prepared to be revealed a state secret.
“That’s racist.”
The guard whispered into Frey’s ear, and Frey quickly backed up in mock-outrage, screaming out.
“How dare you call me racist, you-you, scoundrel!”
The guard smirked as he leaned back, crossing his arms again as he looked above Frey to look at the line. Frey ignored the smirk and raised his finger close to the scoundrel’s face, up towards his nose as he started waving it in front of the guard.
“I will not have my name besmirkt in such a way! I demand to see your manager!”
The smirk reformed into a smile on the guard’s face, following Frey’s finger as it waved back and forth in front of him. Frey’s voice going higher and higher in pitch as he practically yelped to see a manager. Ignoring the finger, the guard looked up and over Frey.
“You really don’t give a shit, do you?”
Again, Frey backed up in outrage, opening his mouth wide as if stuck for words, holding a hand on his chest as he stammered.
“H-How dare you! Of course I give a shit. You come here into my fine city, call me racist and leave me parched in this awful weather. I will have your head for this! Your head I tell you!”
“You know, talking about the city, you’ve already become quite infamous.”
“I have?”
Frey immediately perked up, taking a step closer to the guard and quickly ditching his weird squeaky voice.
“Yeah, if the rumours are to be believed, you’ve already faced off with big mama”
“Big mama? I’ve not met anyone fat, I don’t think.”
“And, more unbelievable, is that you’ve somehow befriended Sara. I gotta say man, hearing that almost made me fall off my chair!”
Frey blinked in surprise, looking a little shocked at the mention of Sara. The guard opening his mouth to speak but stopped himself at seeing Frey’s reaction.
“Oh, she already ditched you?”
“W-wha, what? No way. Who do you think you're talking too? I’m the fucking sex-machine. Like hell she’d ditch me.”
“Uhuh, well still, you’re the funniest guy I’ve met or heard about, and that’s telling a lot. I’ve lived here for almost forty years now, man.”
“FORTY YEARS?! You look like you're thirty at most!”
“Yeah man. Right, you’re a newbie. Ooooooh of course, no ones probably told you anything yet, have they?”
“No-man, no man has!”
The guard went silent for a moment, pulling up his hand to his chin. He scratched at a particularly nasty scar as he brooded for a moment. Moment passing as he spoke calmly.
“You know what, I’ll get you your beer. And even better, I’ll-“
“REALLY?! My man! You’re the man! The fucking boss, the man-man, the ultra man, the-“
“Now listen here man, I’m still working, so I can’t buy you a drink just yet.”
Frey smiled brightly, taking a step beside the guard and resting an arm around his shoulder, pulling the guard down and in.
“That’s no problem man, I can wait for you man, you’re the man, man.”
“Good, come back on the fourteenth bell then, man.”
Frey stared longingly into the eyes of the guard whom stared back, both smiling, Frey blinking as he smiled, asking.
“The what?”
“The bell, you know, the very loud chime noise that seems to come from everywhere?”
“The what?”
The guard’s smile waned as he himself started blinking. Suddenly, and slowly, a grin started forming on his big face.
“You gotta be shitting me. You’ve done so much stupid shit, yet you’ve not been here longer than twelve hours?”
“Twelve hours? You got a clock on you?”
“Nah man, the bell, I mean… no wait, I met the twins before the bell, which means you’ve been here for at least one bell. Man, how did you not hear it?”
“The twins? Th- THE TWINS! You mean those fuckers at the first door?”
“They aren’t fuckers, but you must have met them at the door. Everyone does.”
“Oh no, man, don’t listen to them. Don’t let their sweet words deceive you into thinking they are good people. They are monsters, I tell you, monsters in disguise!”
The guard smiled, then shook his head.
“Whata nutter”
“Yeah right! Fuck the twins.”
“Nah man, I wasn’t talking about the twins.”
Frey narrowed his eyes at the statement, taking a second to think. But his mind gave him something else to think about, to feel horrified about.
“Waaait, wait wait wait… You said one bell is twelve hours?”
The guard nodded.
“And that your shift ends in fourteen bells?”
He nodded again.
“Then… Then.”
Frey started counting on his fingers, coming up to ten before looking up.
“That means you’ll be working more than ten bells! Which is like-like, a lot of hours!”
“I’m working a week shift, yes”
“What the fuck?! How do you expect me to wait an entire week for my beer?!”
The guard smiled, raising an eyebrow as he said very nonchalantly.
“You’ll make do, man, just like everyone else.”
“No-But.. Ma-..dick- pus… AAARG FFFFINE!.. Fine”
Frey blubbered out as he let go of the guard, stomping away from him in anger before spinning around and pointing an accusatory finger at him.
“But I’ll only accept it if you buy me two beers!”
“I was already planning on buying you as much as you wanted.”
“Then we are even!”
Frey yelled as he walked away. The guard shaking his head in amusement as he stared at Frey’s retreating back, grumbling loudly about stupid shits and beers and twins and big fat mamas.
Walking with his head down and grumbling loudly, Frey quickly made his way towards the fountain, ignoring the people around it and even walking in front of another person just about to take Frey’s spot. The girl, looking like a buff girl stereotype, was just about to speak up before she noticed his glare, and instead took another spot.
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At the fountain’s water, Frey bent down and stared into the still water. Seeing his reflection coming back, glaring at it. He searched the mirror reflection, searched it for a long time before sighing, shaking his head and whispering something unhearable to anyone but himself. His reflection then smiled at him, and Frey smiled back, saying.
“A dildo”
But nothing happened.
“Food?”
Frey quickly punched the water in frustration as nothing happened, pushing his now wet hand into his pocket as he grumbled to himself, walking towards the rainbow house. No destination in mind as he simply wandered, staring at his feet as they kicked loose pebbles around.
At the rainbow house, he rounded its corner and stopped in his tracks. Spotting the door, it’s oddly normal metal gleam reminding him of other days. He stared at the door, blinked, and breathed.
Time seemingly stopping for a second as he stood and stared, fingers twitching lightly, fingering his spear strapped to his backpack. Sweat started to form on the base of his neck, dripping down onto his chest. Heart suddenly beating faster and faster.
Then he suddenly stomped hard on the ground and punched the rainbow house, shaking his head in visible frustration as he narrowed his eyes on the door.
“You won’t fucking win against me, ya hear me?”
He muttered loudly, walking with slow, methodical steps toward the door. Quickly making ground, not making enough ground, time slow like sand down a clogged drain.
Steps echoing loudly within Frey’s mind.
Heart beating fast.
Then he was at the door, and he took a firm grasp on its cold handle, closing his eyes as he did.
He stood there, waiting by the door, focusing in on himself as he breathed calmly, deeply. In and out, in then, out.
Tranquill.
His eyes snapped open and, using all of his might, he pushed at the door in one mighty push.
Stopped dead in his tracks as the door wouldn’t budge even a millimeter. Instead, only managing to hurt his shoulder by the sudden stop.
Massaging his sore shoulder, he stared in disbelief at the door, then glared at it. Trying to, gentler, push the door open to no effect. Then pushed harder, then harder, even harder. He started pushing with his whole body, mouth blowing up like a pufferfish as veins popped out on his neck and forehead. Gliding on the ground’s surface, he still continued pushing. Then he started punching, then kicking. But nothing would work.
Breathing heavily, Frey took a step back from the door, swiping at his now sweaty forehead. He stared at the door, stared at its unblemished metal frame, and seemed to visibly shake. He shaked for he would not be defeated by a mere door.
Taking yet another step back, then another and another, Frey gave himself a running start, almost going back to the rainbow house before he stopped and calmed himself. Psyching himself up, he jumped up and down, punched the air, and did a few kicks before flexing his arms and shoulders. Breathing in deeply, he flung himself down onto the ground and posed himself in a runner’s sprint position, staring up at the door.
Waiting for the imaginary gun to shoot, he stared at the door, psyching himself up even further, praising himself and how strong and awesome and cool and sexy and what a huge dick he has and so on and so forth.
Suddenly, the bell chimed, and Frey was flung out from his mind and up into a sprint, mind dead-set on the door as he quickly gained speed. Practically flying as the door came closer-
Bell?
Before he could ponder the actual bell chiming, he slammed shoulder first into the door, and it flung open as if being an automatic door. And Frey flew in, partially sideways and spinning as the door pulled at his shirt a little. And flew he did, spinning until he slammed hard into the ground, spinning on the ground with a clatter of wood as he bounced around.
Spun, bounced and then stopped face down into the hard hot ground. Mind not really comprehending the situation until his body did. Pain lazing up from everywhere, feeling like his entire body had somehow hit the ground several times.
Then he heard the bell over the sound of his heart pounding, a loud bell that came from somewhere behind him.
Lifting his head awkwardly, he tried checking above his shoulder, but his view was blocked by his backpack. Instead, he moved his head back towards the ground and started, very slowly, to push himself up on all fours.
Stopped by a squelching sound coming from somewhere on his stomach. Breath stuck in his throat, he glanced down in horror. Spotting something brownish? Attached to his stomach, dripping down onto the hot ground.
Then the smell hit him, and Frey almost puked, gagged and had to quickly cover his nose from the awful stench. Next, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, cringing slightly, and very tenderly, touched the brownish goo on his stomach. Pulling away a finger immediately after touching, he could confirm that it wasn’t his intestines. It was just something smelly, slimy and gooey, something he assumed he’d already met before.
Still covering his nose, he looked behind himself, looking for the source of the bell sound, for the bell that wasn’t chiming anymore. But as he looked, he only saw a closed door, the same closed door he’d seen from the front. He took a step towards the door, but stopped himself and instead, turned away from it. He looked down the long corridor, towards the gate in the distance, fixing his narrowed eyes on it.
One step in front of the other, Frey walked towards the gate, albeit with a slight limp and covering his nose. But that didn’t perturb him, nor sway him, staring almost passionately at the gate in front, holding his nose in an almost death grip in an attempt to wane of the disturbingly awful smell. Like rotten fish blended together with mold and a dead body. A smell he had never enjoyed.
Quickly, for a man limp-walking, Frey stood in front of the looming gate, staring daggers at the epic picture with the sexy babe and the awful giant that looked kinda sexy but not really. Staring at the picture for only a second, he then removed his backpack and unfastened his spear. Then, with little trepidation in his hands, pulled out the bag and checked its content.
Breathing out a huge sigh of relief, Frey stared down on the many health potions within the bag, wondering for a second how they survived the crash. Then he wondered if he should waste a potion on mere bruises, but quickly shrugged his shoulder as he still had plenty of potions left and grabbed one before he could dwell too much on it and chugged. Feeling his body freeze up, followed by sweet relief as he felt as refreshed as when one drank two too many energy drinks.
Next, he pulled out two potions and placed them in separate pockets and grabbed his backpack by the straps with his leg, pushing open the gate with his only free hand whilst holding his spear with the other.
As the gate slowly, but easily, pushed open. Frey paused for but a second, freezing up as the brighter light hit him in the face. Freezing as his hand started shivering slightly. But biting down the shaking, forcing his arm still as he breathed a little heavily. Taking one last breath, a smile plastered on his face as he opened the door fully.
“Hey there, big guy, happy to see me?”
Frey said after placing his bag in between the gate, taking a broad stance as he grabbed his spear clenched within both hands. The giant didn’t respond, simply staring down at him with a bored expression, or happy, or a sad one. It was impossible to tell with the lacking face and all. But to Frey, the giant looked bored.
“Leave or fight. If you fight, you die.”
“Yeah yeah, you said that last time, but I’m still standing, aren’t I?”
The giant didn’t respond to the jab, instead standing still, frozen in place, stuck in time, staring down at him without a care in the world. Frey gulped without meaning too, then took a step forward, spear the only thing to protect him from whatever thing the giant had done to harm him before.
Frey glanced around, searching the featureless room for anything that might stick out, any hidden traps or trapdoors. Finding it just as barren as the first time he came here.
Focusing back on the giant, he took another step, body tensed and ready to spring into action.
“Not as talkative as last time, I hear?”
“Leave or die. You have ten seconds to decide.”
“Well, that’s just mean.”
Frey muttered, though not sounding annoyed, maybe tensed, but not annoyed.
“Nine”
The giant started, and Frey stopped mid-step, taking up a wide stance that felt comfortable to him, nostalgic even.
“Eight”
“Seven”
The giant counted down, Frey tensing further and further with each number. Tapping uneasily on his spear as he stared the giant down, from head to toe, looking for any hidden weapons.
“Four”
“Three”
He was close, Frey bent down further, spear feeling like a spring in his hand, like a cobra ready to strike.
“Two”
“One”
Frey looked around in a crazed fury, stance bent down as if ready to take a shit, eyes glancing around in every which corner, hands almost fumbling with the spear as he searched for whatever was to come.
He searched, he looked, he sniffed and immediately regretting it as the stench from his stomach made him cough. Cough and momentarily lose focus from the giant.
He realized his mistake and looked up quickly, still coughing as he stared through tear-filled eyes. Seeing as the giant lifted its leg, slowly and confidently, then ever so slowly, pushing it back down and taking a first step.
Frey took his own step backwards, managing to control his coughing as he waited for the giant to come near.
He waited patiently.
He waited in trepidation
He waited.
And wait-
Holy shit, the giant was slow. Through the time that Frey had waited, the giant had only managed three steps. They were very long steps, but very, very slow. Frey even walked, his full attention still on the giant, around it, noticing the giant following him as he did.
It was, weird. And it made Frey even more nervous, as this felt like a confirmation that the giant had cheated somehow in their first fight.
More alert than ever, Frey also took his own steps towards the giant. The two moving slowly towards one another, like lovers at first sight. Frey holding his spear far in front, while the giant didn’t seem even the slightest bit perturbed by its own slowness.
Frey took a step, then readied himself for the giant’s next step, having judged it to come within striking distance. He waited as the giant stepped down, then slowly lifted its other leg, moving it slower than a tortoise as it came in front of the other leg, and slowly, so slowly, moved to step down.
The second the giant started to press down its foot, Frey pushed forward with his spear arm outstretch as far as it could go, aiming directly on the leg pressing down.
He came rushing forward, feeling his aim true, perfect even, about to strike in the middle where the tendon met foot, the chin as some called it. He practically flew, pushing as fast as he thought possible.
Then, the tip seemed to sink into the giant’s flesh. But that wasn’t true. The spear should have pierced flesh, sinked in, but Frey, whom was paying a lot of attention on the tip of the spear, saw as the giant simply, moved aside. So simple yet so unbelievable, the giant that was so slow had simply, shifted slightly and dodged his spear.
Frey quickly tried swiping the spear to the side, but found it not budging. Looking why, he spotted an enormous hand holding it. Looking up, he saw the giant staring down at him with his spear in hand, then the giant pulled and Frey flew up a few feet as the giant took and threw the spear behind itself.
Frey landed quickly and stared up, slightly dumbfounded. The giant used the opportunity to wind back slowly, then with speed rivaling an MMA fighter, punched out.
Only through instinct did Frey manage to pull up his arms in a block, feeling his right forearm crumple in on itself as the blow from the giant pushed him back and into a backwards roll.
With instinctual agility, Frey managed to turn the back roll into a parkour roll and back up to standing, albeit falling back down on his knee as pain flooded his senses. Looking down on his arm, he spotted a white bone sticking out, and his forearm dangling uselessly above the bone that stuck out. The pain worse now that he saw what caused it.
Trying the best he could to ignore the pain, Frey quickly looked up, spotting the giant taking a slow, very slow, step towards him, and judged himself to have enough time to fish out a potion.
Biting hard, Frey did his best to ignore the pain and push his slightly less harmed arm down his pocket, fishing out one potion and quickly uncorking it and drinking its content.
Cold then relief, he glanced down and saw his arm right itself, pull his bones inside and pull his flailing forearm up and into a straight position. Flexing his hand, he had a moment of mute numbness at the magical impossibility, but shook the shock away as he focused back on the now very close giant.
He was, in fact, so close that Frey wouldn’t be able to run around without risking a strike from the deceivingly quick giant.
Frey weighed his options, left or right, both just as bad. The giant was slow, but he didn’t have all day to decide. Left or right, Frey desperately looked at the two options, weighing their impossibility against one another, weaponless as he was.
Then he spotted a third option, an even more impossible, stupider and riskier option. It was so stupid, in fact, that Frey didn’t even question it as he ran forward, then turning to the right.
The giant immediately reacted by stopping mid-step, readying itself. Then Frey was upon it, and the giant was just about to strike before Frey did a backwards basketball roll to go to the giant’s left side. The giant managed to redirect its strike from right to left. But Frey hadn’t aimed for the left, but forward.
In the middle of his basketball roll, he stopped, and backed up with his head bent forwards, hearing a loud crack to his now right as a fist hit the ground, then felt his sides squeeze past what must have been the giant’s leg.
Then he was past the leg and looked up, seeing the giant bent down with its fist punching a hole into the ground. Its ass exposed to him.
Crackling laughter escaped Frey’s mouth, pure in how delighted he was. He started to turn, turn towards where the giant had thrown his spear.
Laughter fading immediately as the giant used its awkward stance to kick backwards with its leg, managing to hit Frey on the side as the kick whiplashed his entire body and propelled him to the side.
Crack, then a slam, and Frey tumbled on the ground, dazed and confused. He looked around with a blurry vision, managing through the haze to fish for his potion in his pocket, pulling it out, then staring stupidly at the pile of glass in his hand.
Dropping the weirdly hazy glass, he tried to push himself up, but fell back down, realizing that his left arm was now the arm that didn’t work. He didn’t look to see why, and instead looked up, blinking the haze and confusion away.
After what felt like a minute, hopefully just a second, his sight came back. Spotting his spear only a meter away and very close to his backpack by the gate. He turned back, and spotted the giant lumbering slowly towards him.
Again, Frey tried to stand, falling back down on the ground in a shout and blood biting moment of agony as his leg felt like a million volts of electricity shooting up and into his brain.
He looked down and spotted his foot facing the wrong direction, alongside with his knee not sitting in its socket.
Frey heard the giant take a step, and saw it slowly raise its other leg, eyes widening as he realized how shitty his situation was.
Looking back up, he judged the distance to his spear, and to his salvation, judged it to be no more than maybe two meters. He could make that ground easily.
Then he tried moving, and felt his insides squirm in disagreement, teeth gnawing against teeth, tasting of salty blood. Looking back again, he saw and heard the giant take yet another step, gaining ground fast for its slow gait. Turning towards the gate, the two-meter distance felt far too long.
Using his palm and his good leg, he pulled and pushed, fighting against the blindingly hot pain to get ground, almost fading, almost giving in. Then he heard the giant take a step behind, and he felt that he could ignore the pain. No. He had to ignore the pain.
So he pushed and pulled harder, yet the giant’s steps echoed out, seemingly faster than before. Not wanting to look back, Frey’s mind could do not but tell himself that the giant would be at him in any second, that he would be squished to mush, stomped to death.
He redoubled, no, tripled his efforts, feeling like clawing at burning coals, molten lava, nails bleeding, blood flowing from his mouth and tears forming. Yet, the step-step from the giant didn’t stop, didn’t fade, only grew in intensity.
“Nonononono”
Frey muttered, having grabbed his spear in a death grip as he continued pulling himself forward. He dared to look back, the spear giving him a second of bravery. Bravery fading like water down a parched man’s throat as the giant was but a mere three steps away.
Frey turned forward again, and the distance felt impossible.
“Nonono please, nononoo-“
Frey panicked, finding his shoes slipping, hands stripping, gaining even less ground than before even as the pain seemed to fade away, replaced by raw, and sheer, panic.
Eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets as he stared at the gate, at his salvation, being so close, so-
The giant came a step closer.
Frey felt his body instinctually pull at his broken left arm, using it in a vain attempt to help him get speed. Then his leg, pulling and pushing on muscles twisted the wrong way, shooting stars of pain up into Frey’s eyes, partially blinding him, making everything so fuzzy.
The giant’s second step echoed.
And Frey pushed harder, yet closed his eyes, to hurt, too panicked, too overwhelmed to fight it anymore. Too try and-
He felt something on his hand. Looking up, he saw that his hand had bumped into his wooden backpack, and hope rekindled.
Using all of his muscles, even the destroyed ones, he pulled and managed to awkwardly wriggle himself up onto the bag, then past the gate and land on his back, pain so bad that he could do not but scream.
With his only healed leg, he managed to wriggle it to hold his bag, then, with a moment of pure adrenaline filled rage to survive, used his broken and twisted leg as support against the gate. Before he could think of what he was doing, he pushed using his broken leg as support, and pulled out his backpack, the gate closing in the process.
Though the pain made him freeze and black out.
Then wake, breathing heavily as he stared up at the empty ceiling.
He could do nothing but breath heavily, raspily as he stared up, trying to catch his breath, to calm down his mind overflowing with thoughts. His throat parched and dry, mind woozy.
Pain managed to calm him, to focus him, and he turned to look for his bag. Finding it by his healed leg and spotting his broken leg with now a white bony mess sticking out, white shards on the ground and a foot twisted out of its socket.
He tried to bend down, to grab his bag and fish out a potion to stop the pain. But he just, couldn’t. Adrenaline having faded, not in danger, he could not ignore the impossible pain, feeling trapped as he just lay there, paralysed by it, staring up at an empty ceiling and a bag impossibly far away.
He stared and felt emotions rushing, pushing up from his heart and stomach, wanting to overwhelm him, eyes watering. With the only arm he could use, he did his best to push at his eyes, to push it back in. A choke escaped his mouth, a choke of holding bag tears, and Frey quickly punched the ground and screamed.
“FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCK”
Staring up hatefully at the ceiling, managing to shock his own tears away, to push his overwhelming emotions in another direction, towards anger at the fucking ceiling.
Using his rage, Frey ignored the pain, ignored everything as he awkwardly shuffled around, shuffled until he could grab his bag and fish out a potion. Pulling out a potion almost desperately, downing it faster than a glass of vodka, and shuddered as the cold came, followed by the audible crack of bones and muscles snapping into place.
Then relief, such, sweet, wondrous, relief.
Frey took a moment to feel its warmth, to feel its awe, to be one with the feeling.
Only to quickly jump up on his feet, spear in hand and walk towards the gate as he shouted in ill hidden fury.
“You fucking piece of shit! I’ll kill you!”
Then put a hand on the gate and pushed.
Pushing futily as the gate didn’t even budge a millimeter, feeling like pushing on a mountain.
Like the door before, he started punching, kicking, tackling, and even slamming his spear against the gate. All futile events, all the while screaming at the top of his lunges until his throat came back dry.
Eventually, he stopped, falling down tiredly on his knees, hand on the gate as he stared down at the ground.
And he sat there, still like a statue.
Again, the emotions pushed, yet Frey had better control now, and he simply breathed instead. Breathed out calmly, then in just as calmly, regaining control.
“I’ll come back, you’kno?”
Frey whispered to the gate, looking up through lashes before grabbing his backpack and bag, putting it on as he started walking away, walking back through the corridor.
Then a sudden bout of vertigo hit him, and he almost fell, if not for the wall of the corridor being there for him. Putting a hand to his head, he shook it, only to grow dizzier. Quickly realizing that he was fatigued, tired. What he needed now, was a nice place to sleep.
After walking the distance of the corridor, Frey grabbed the door with some slight trepidation. Unfounded as the door easily opened, and he was back into the colorful, bright and strange city. A bright city a lot darker than it had been before. A city he could care less for in the moment, just wanting some rest.
Letting his body guide him, Frey walked without a destination. Head held high, until it wasn’t. Simply staring down as his feet dragged him here too there, mindless.
Then they stopped, and Frey wondered why.
Looking up, he realized why.
He stood in front of Sara’s shop, with her slightly slanted sign that felt so homely, and cute, that it could do nothing but draw him in. So, he took a step forward and grabbed at the door, then looked inside.
He stopped himself when he saw Sara behind the counter, talking to a tall man with brown hair that Frey could not see the face off. Talking with a beautiful smile on her face and laughing loudly, so loud that not even the door was thick enough to contain its wondrous luster.
He stared inside at the brightly lit shop, and then let go. He took a step back, two, and then turned around, aiming for the nearest alley and spotting a dumpster.
He walked to it, around it and behind it, drawn into the darkness of said alley, letting his body slump down heavily with his back leaning against the dumpster. Backpack laid out beside him as he stared into the darker parts of the alley.
A smile came upon his face as he stared, then a laugh came shortly after, a quick laugh.
“Well, isn’t this nostalgic.”
Before leaning back, closing his eyes as he faded into the sweet relief of darkness.