Vincent has had a very bad life. When he was first born, his mother died, and only a few short years later, his father did, too, leaving behind a massive amount of wealth that his aunt Mary wanted for herself.
Vincent, being a normal, well-adjusted man, managed to keep his parent’s wealth safe from her clutches until he turned eighteen and inherited it for himself.
This was fine. Vincent never thought much of family anyway, so he was happy to continue his dreams of becoming a schoolteacher, as he loved children.
They were bright sparks of light in a very horrible world, in his opinion.
So when Mary asked him to babysit her kids, he would never refuse. Her kids loved him! He loved them, spoiling them and teaching them morals and values that their mother refused to.
Vincent thought he’d done a good job raising his aunt’s children to be good people, until Abigail.
Mary had a very, very horrible wretch of a child, one that hated him for little to no reason. Of course, Abigail was Mary’s favorite child, and she had no issues telling her nephew this frequently.
Abigail was never allowed to be babysat by him, Mary always just taking her with, or leaving her alone at home. Vincent felt sorry for Abigail, thinking she must be quite lonely, so when she called for help, crying and not knowing what to do, Vincent went there as fast as he could.
At the ripe old age of 22, only a few weeks from getting his teaching degree and living the life he’d always wanted to live, Vincent had his first—yes, you heard that right, first, as in there had been many—rape accusation leveled at him.
Vincent managed to just barely avoid jail-time, not a single soul believing him even with the best lawyer money could buy, and ended up with a bad reputation and a settlement he’d had to pay. This news spread, and, in the last week of college, he got kicked out of the teaching program, and dropped out of college.
The next decade of his life had been very, very miserable. With his poor reputation, he tended to keep to himself, but he still had some friends. Sure, the friends were people who didn’t believe he hadn’t raped his cousin, but they were otherwise okay company, ignoring their criminal records.
His friends frequently dragged him to bars and introduced him to women, and Vincent wasn’t all that interested. He wasn’t gay, but he was respectable.
Vincent knew it was a very wild thing to say in 2029, but he wanted to wait until marriage. He wanted to find the perfect girl for him, and he knew they could live amazing lives if only someone gave him the chance.
No one he could find in bars wanted to follow his overly romantic wishes, though, and he frequently found his friends attempting to drug him to “get him to loosen up”.
Despite all of these facts, Vincent stayed pure. Until Zach, one of his friends that he was pretty certain was from a gang, got a girl. Marianne was a very sweet girl, and she got along with all of Zach’s friends.
Maybe a bit too well, Vincent mused, but he didn’t mind. Not at all. It wasn’t him betraying Zach’s trust by sleeping with his girl. It was Cody, Marcus, Logan, and even Penelope, the bi-trans man that Vincent had helped out to get his dream transformation.
Penelope frequently joked that he looked more manly than Vincent himself did, and Vincent could agree.
The fair man had delicate features and long silken brown hair that he took meticulous care of. His eyes were a muddy green that almost looked hazel, and he always wore at least one article of clothing that was a royal purple—Vincent’s favorite color.
Vincent wouldn’t call himself attractive, but he would certainly say he was the best-looking in his friend group.
So it came as no surprise to him that the very friendly Marianne had attempted to cuddle up to him many, many times.
Each time he respectfully refused, but Marianne kept pushing and pushing until, finally, his luck showed its face.
Tears ran down his face as he screamed and cried in the arms of Cody and Logan. Zachary stood in front of him, scars and tattoos looking more intimidating now that Vincent’s life was in his hands.
“No, no, please, I didn’t, I swear I didn’t!” Vincent pleaded, his voice rough and raw from all the screaming he’d done.
The police were milling around, and no one interrupted as Vincent was dragged to the mysterious murder-wormhole that had only recently appeared.
“THIS MAN HAS RAPED SEVERAL PEOPLE, INCLUDING CHILDREN AS YOUNG AS SEVEN,” Zach yelled out to the crowd, the police pretending they saw nothing.
“No, no, please, you have to believe me, none of that was true! There was never any evidence, I was falsely accused!” Vincent screamed as tears fell down his face.
His chest heaved, and his throat ached, and the strength in his bruised and battered legs was almost gone. Vincent cried, sobbing, as the one person who attempted to stop him from being thrown into the wormhole was dragged away by his military buddies.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Hey, hey, look at those clouds there,” The military commander told his subordinate, gesturing at the clear blue sky with nary a cloud in sight, “Do you think it’ll rain later?”
“P-please…” Vincent begged.
Vincent wasn’t a religious man. How could he be? If there were a God, they wouldn’t have allowed the injustices he’d lived through to happen.
To his regret, though, in this moment, he plead to any higher power, his green eyes looking up at the cloudless sky.
Please. Please save me. Please believe me. Anyone. Anyone, please—!
His prayers went unanswered, though, and soon his world went black. Of course it did. There wasn’t an afterlife.
Vincent laid there on the cold ground, curled up and sobbing, his hands over his head. His sobs echoed back to him, and he thought this might just be heaven, with how peaceful it was.
He was left alone. It was dark. No one could hurt him anymore.
No one could hurt him anymore, because he damned well knew that no one would try and save him. Not him.
Not Vincent, the pedophilic rapist.
Ignoring the fact that he was still a virgin.
Not Vincent, the sick-minded person that even raped his own cousin.
“I just want to live,” Vincent cried, “I just… I just…” His cries petered out, and he gasped as he sat up, “I’m alive! I’m—” He half-sobbed, half-laughed, wiping at his eyes, “Oh thank… thank… thank the world.”
Vincent hiccuped, slowly standing as he half-sobbed, walking into the dark. Had he been able to see, maybe he would have been less relieved.
Millions of eyes focused on him, hundreds of thousands of legs shifting and twisting around in branching tunnels.
Vincent didn’t know it, but he was very lucky, for instead of taking a small branching tunnel, panicking due to the sight of thousands of inescapable creatures, he walked straight from where he stood up.
The spiders that had been slowly gearing up for a feast hesitated, disappointed as Vincent crossed a deep groove in the ground separating territories.
Vincent was still gasping, limping from the pain that wracked through his whole body. Zach and his gang had fun before they all made the decision to throw him in those “death portals”. As he walked, he thought.
Wherever he was, he would survive. He would recover his strength and he would return a better man.
He’d gather all of his money and he would run to a place Zach wouldn’t find him. Maybe some rural town in the Midwest, or some backwater hillbilly place in the south!
Yes. Vincent would survive, like he survived his aunt’s various assassination attempts and all of the various rape allegations. Vincent would survive.
Determination filled Vincent as he limped forward, his path set before him. He never saw the ambush coming.
In the darkness hid several horrifying creatures. They had sharp teeth like a shark’s and blood red eyes, their faces all set in excited snarls, their noses scrunched and their sharp teeth bared.
A pale yellow glow escaped a stick with a pale blue crystal embedded into it. Vincent collapsed bonelessly as it hit him in the back.
When Vincent woke up again, it was to shadows flickering on a large tunnel’s ceiling. Something was wrapped tight around him, and he felt like he was swinging from a hammock.
Disoriented, Vincent looked around. Fires flickered atop long wooden clubs, and something hairy and brown had white silk wrapped around it.
Vincent’s heart hammered as he looked around wildly, struggling with the silk he was in. Grimy and dirty clawed fingers with soot coating the sharp-looking talons held the hairy leg. Vincent shivered, his breathing erratic and his eyes darting around.
Whatever had him, it wasn’t human.
When he got to the main cavern, he saw everything. Evil and horrifically twisted facsimiles of humans stood there, their skin a sickly green color and their eyes pools of blood. They all grinned as they gurgled and gagged at the sight of him, thin ropy tongues flicking out of some of their mouths.
Vincent screamed at the horrific sight. Then, as he screamed and struggled, he looked up, and screamed louder at the sight of something shifting up above.
“HELP! SOMEONE! Anyone! Please! Help!” Vincent screamed, his screams growing quieter and ending in a whimper as he screwed his eyes shut and cried, tears streaming down his face.
“Lawrence! Think of something to help him! I can’t fight them all!” A slightly muffled voice echoed out.
A sickening crunch echoed out, and the chamber was full of inhuman shrieking. As Vincent fell to the ground, he saw his savior.
Covered in blood both old and new, his own face reflected back at him in a shadowed visor. Scratched armor that had clearly seen battle cloaked the man before him, and a baseball bat was held in one of his hands.
In the other was a sharp crystal. Vincent scrambled up as the man heroically fought off the mob of creatures swarming him, cutting through Vincent’s bindings using the sharp crystal.
“Th-thank—“
“Fight the goblins too, I can’t get them all. I believe in you,” The man said curtly, sharply as he dropped the sharp crystal and turned, swinging as hard as he could with a grunt.
Three of the creatures—Goblins?—growled and gurgled, and Vincent grabbed the sharp crystal off the ground. Vincent cried out as four sharp lines sliced across his chest.
Survive. The goblins were attacking him, too, and for a long moment Vincent just ran around trying and failing to avoid being cut to shreds by their talons. But a determination swelled up within him, and he screamed out a wordless cry.
“I will… I will SURVIVE!” Vincent yelled, stabbing forward with his weapon. It landed solidly in the neck of one of his attackers.
Their flesh was warm and their blood warmer. It felt almost human.
The goblin tried shrieking, a weak gurgle escaping it as it fell off his crystal.
Vincent steeled himself, turning to continue. His sharp crystal stabbed out, and his vision was a mess of limbs and claws, blood that looked black in the firelight coating him.
Some got in his mouth, and it tasted vile, like rotted tomatoes and bread mixed with iron and copper.
Despite his deep primal wish to live, Vincent found himself collapsing as he gagged and threw up, the entire world spinning as he collapsed into his own bile.
Vincent struggled, but his entire body ached. His mind was foggy, and he only managed to slump onto his side.
A shadow darted around, the benevolent hero that decided to save him breaking skulls and ignoring wounds. A goblin snuck up behind the hero, and Vincent tried calling out, but only a weak gasp escaped him.
Sorry for failing you, Vincent thought weakly.
The back of the man was struggling fiercely, and when the helmet turned, the man reached out to him. Even as the man gained injuries, he broke through the mass surrounding him and sprinted toward Vincent.
No one had ever tried saving Vincent before.
Peace filled his mind as tears fell from his eyes, his vision fading.
Goodbye, my hero.