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The Last S
His Name Is Sam

His Name Is Sam

Sam stood staring at the ground three hundred meters below him, looking upon three beings beyond deities. But that wasn't what surprised Sam, but the fact he was standing on nothing but thin air. Mustering all his willpower, he focused himself on the three... creatures before him. One stood almost ten feet tall with freakishly long limbs without a face, while the other two looked like a lizard and a werewolf standing near each other. Counting, Sam noticed that the lizard and wolf had eight swords each either on their backs or sides. 

8 swords are a bit too many even for my taste thought Sam, still gaping and imagining someone trying to hold all of them simultaneously.

The two beasts had a solid few kilometres between them and the faceless 'humanoid'. Lost in his thoughts, Sam barely noticed the wolf reach up to one of his swords with a finger. As if it were a sign, the duo charged at the faceless with inhuman speed, their hands glowing black and white with something of a ball manifested in their palms. As the orbs engaged a vast, vivid light radiated at the centre, gradually expanding outwards. Sam, not wanting to close his eyes for a single millisecond as to miss any of the action, was blinded by the light as they clashed, making everything in that... realm shake.

Sam's head throbbed with pain as he heard a sound reverberating around him, slowly trying to engulf him. The sound was eerily familiar, something he felt he heard quite often. He let it wash over him, paying it no mind until it hit him. And it hit him hard. It was his alarm.

Sam jumped up from his bed instinctively reaching for the clock and checking the time. He breathed out with relief, freeing himself from all the tension that had somehow built up inside of him over the last few seconds. Sam paused to think about the dream he has just seen wanting to ponder on it for a moment. He was having a number of them spanning the last couple weeks. Unfortunately, he knew there was no time because this day would be special. A day where he would finally be able to release all his hidden potential and show the galaxies what he was made of. It was time for him to get his promotion to a full-time employee - something he had been looking forward to since he got his new job a year ago. It saddened Sam that he had to become an intern again after finishing his university years.

Just like every day, Sam ate breakfast, took an exceedingly long shower and got dressed in the new suit he had brought two days ago. It was one of the most expensive things he owned after his technology. Sam marched out of his flat - with his prized panama on; covering his messy hair - and felt like the most important person in the world. Unlike others he had no family to give him birthday presents or make him feel proud at getting a B+ on his test but he didn't care. He didn't have to. Sam knew his parents had died right after he was born - or so he was told - but he had nothing else to latch onto. Sam barely had any friends no matter how hard he tried because of him being an orphan. The most important person was his orphanage's mother: Terry. He had sent a letter to her explaining his promotion a few days ago but currently held no reply.

Getting to his office wasn't too much of a hustle for Sam as he only needed to walk a mile or two; his walk to his fencing club tripled that number and a bit. Sam never drove or procured public transport mainly because he liked to walk and also because he didn't have enough cash. Fencing was the only activity Sam mainly did and he was exceptionally terrific at it; in his completely unbias opinion. He dominated everyone he sparred against except his teacher. However, in his biased assessment, Sam thought himself to be fit. Not 'going-to-the-gym-everyday' fit but enough that he wasn't slim and feeble or big and burly. Approaching his favourite shop his phone vibrated in his pocket affecting his heart to skip a bit. Sam received none to few messages on his phone so him acting nervous was natural. Reaching into his pocket, with a shaky hand, same retrieved his phone and looked at the message. This time his heart skipped more than just a few beats and thumped so loud he feared others could be able to hear it. The message said: 'Hey, heard you got a promo. Gratz wanna hang out tn and get some drinks?'

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Sam stood there, fazed, reading the text over and over, trying to find a hidden meaning behind it. Why would Alan want to hang out with him? He was some nobody, while Alan was his soon-to-be boss' boss; boss; even if Alan was younger than him. Could it be Alan wanted to make fun of him in front of his co-workers or show him off as another minion under him? No, Sam didn't think people were like that, and he'd heard that Alan was a chill guy who was friends with everyone. Maybe this could be his chance to make new connections and make real friends. Trembling, he replied: 'That would be great Mr Stanson.' Sam instantly regretted sending that message. It sounded incredibly lame and presented him like some stuck-up nerd. Not to mention Sam was his senior in age. Sam's spirits were being constantly trampled as he thought Alan might be at work today and would confront him about the increasingly embarrassing message. Shaking his head, Sam walked into the shop, and returned his phone to its rightful position: in his pocket - hoping never to see it again.

--

Sam's day proceeded relatively fine, thinking about the fact his pay more or less got doubled and Alan wasn't in today due to him having a big meeting with the higher-ups. The best part was that everyone was congratulating him; half-heartedly so. He didn't get any presents, but he hadn't expected to; however, there was someone who took particular interest in him. Someone who got promoted when he had joined but was the same age as him: Jessica. Jessica was approximately five foot seven with blonde hair. Her eyes were bottle green and she wore barely any make-up letting her natural charms do the job. Jessica was quite the opposite of Sam who had a mixture of green and red hair while being diagnosed with heterochromia; his left was red and green the other. Calling him unique would be an understatement and he knew it. Fortunately, for Sam - who had absolutely no experience with dating let alone casual social interactions - Jessica helped him get settled in without much fuss and was surprised to hear Alan had invited him to drinks as well. This made the mood more awkward for Jessica, but Sam was as oblivious as a newborn baby.

--

Sam fought back the urge to jump off a cliff. He had forgotten to wash his clothes and had no clean ones to wear. The drink 'party' started in thirty minutes and it would take him exactly twenty-three minutes to get there on foot at full pace. This left him with seven min-- no six minutes to clean his clothes. In the heat of the moment he did what he always did: breathe in, breathe out. It was something his father had told him to do if he ever wanted to create an amazing and unbelievable idea. Sam closed his eyes and took a large breath in and a large breath out. His eyes snapped open as he grabbed some clothes and charged out of the house, sprinting to the closest boutique taking every shortcut he knew and more. He grabbed royal blue trousers; a red top and bought them; fabricating the idea for every person currently present in the shop that that was the fastest purchase ever made by anybody.

Less than twenty-five seconds thought Sam as he stripped in an alley and clothed himself with speed that probably rivalled the world record. If there was one.

Taking in another vast breath, he once again darted towards the bar. Sam had an uncomfortable feeling about something he had thought about during his quick stop at his house, but he couldn't place it. Discharging the idea he made his way to the inn as brisk as possible, without sweating too much, arriving with essentially less than half a minute left to spare. He took a breather outside before opening the door as deliberately muffled as he possibly could without being observed. At the same time, when Sam took a step into the bar he remembered; that he didn't have a father.

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