Is everything supposed to feel like slow-motion? Come on, body, get up already.
I pushed myself up from the wooden bench while my back lay on a smothered wooden table. Come on, come on, come on. Just get up, worthless meat bag! Like, why!?
Why can't I hear anything? Their lips are moving, strangely dressed people jeering and bouncing like they're watching a World Cup Final.
Adventurers… I think they're adventurers. They carried large greatswords, slammed tables, and hauled beer. Some passing money, some fighting. Even over my blurry vision, I see it. But … who put me in this position?
Oh, wait, I know this. This is a surgical reaction to major blood loss, yes. Quite sure my father taught me on my sixteenth birthday. He used not-so-pretty pictures:
"If a person loses too much blood, other people's voices begin fading. So here, have this video of a drug lord I gunned."
But basically, everyone but yourself goes in slow-motion, and your vision starts to dimmmm. . .
Was the Gator's punch really that strong?
Please, body, get up. I can't die here. I just started aspiring to become a policeman, for God's sake. Get up!
"Chris Jackson?" Someone said from behind. Maybe? No, the voice came from ahead. . . no, there's no one there—voices in my head? Honestly, didn't know from where and didn't care, but I could hear something. Indicating improvements to my physical state. "Are you finished?!"
Am I finished? I gave a smug grin. Am I finished, you ask, whoever you may be? My answer is simple and great, stateless interlocutor. I shall not falter. I shall not rest. Yesterday I made my stand, today I tour the sky. Show the world just how great I am. What a cop stands for and what a cleaner shall become.
Justice. Absolute Justice.
Wait, my body is working? I can feel it?
… No. No, I can't. Everything's numb. There's beer… spilled all over me? Or is that blood? Doesn't matter. I can still move… my arm, at least. Yeah… my arm.
The numbness hurts, it aches, digging into my fucking skin. It feels like I'm being torn apart from the inside.
I stood, struggling and shaking while doing so.
Some people began celebrating, probably the ones who placed a bet on me. Some were pissed, best to avoid them. Wait, are the elves cheering for me? Female ones, nonetheless?
So that checks off that this is, in fact, my ideal fantasy world.
But my body can't hold this posture. I need to shift before I, in my great wisdom, embarrass myself.
Gotta bend my back, just slightly forward. Moreover, my head. My right arm dangled down in numbness while I used my left arm to point a finger straight towards the Orca and Gator. My knees were bent, I couldn't stop moving, and I needed to fight even through my blurry vision. It's what I must do, I won't lose like I did in my other life.
Krrrkr!
Great… coughing up blood. Just what I needed to complete the tragic hero package. What's this? I tilted my head slightly downwards… there's a hole. Right through my gut. My policeman shirt's soaked, but… somehow it seems like all vitals were missed. Lucky me. For once.
Move, damn it. Move! Come on, move, body!
Creak!
Creak!
Creak!'
Every step I took forward on the wooden floor felt like something snapping. My bones, the boards, maybe both. My legs could barely handle the weight, even with steps as light as mine.
"He's still… alive!" One of them shouted. The others roared, slamming tables, cheering louder than before. Guess their little bet's still on… because I haven't died. Not yet.
The Orca and Gator both turned away, eyes on the desk up front, like I didn't matter anymore. Like I'd already. But before they did, they gave me that look. The same disgusting and pitiful stare… the one my father's killer gave me back on Earth.
Hey… don't look at me like that, don't turn your backs on me.
"Hey."
Krkkrk!
More blood spills out as I try to force out one word. Just one. They continued speaking with the lady at the front desk, but I wasn't loud enough. Are they asking for some booze? Why… why do I seem so mad then? Did they pity me so much that they didn't bother to ask about that gold coin I offered? And they stopped fighting each other, so doesn't that mean my role is over?
I did what I came here to do… make both of them stop fighting, and I surely showed everyone there's more to a cleaner than meets the eye. Not just some glorified janitors. But why… why do I stand here, looking up at them, like I'm a slave.
"Hey!" The words came out of me, this time, no blood spitting.
Both of them turned their attention towards me, with a huge grin on their faces.
"Kid," the Gator started, "We're getting some help right now. I forgot that you were only a non-awakened."
What do you mean?
Help? Who the hell told him this fight was over? No stop, please, just stop, Chris. Why do I always talk a big game when I've got nothing to back it up? Why does it always have to be me?!
"Hey! I said HEY!" I screamed as loud as I could, blood spraying from my mouth. The entire guild went dead silent. My chest burned, lungs tearing, but I forced the words out. "Who the hell told you I was finished?" I raised my left hand, finger trembling as I pointed straight between the two of them.
My whole body was aching in pain I've never felt before, but the adrenaline helped it wear off for now. Later, this is going to kill me. My knees kept buckling inward, my right arm hanging uselessly by my stomach, and I forced my head up as far as it would go.
But a key thing I've always done is smile in the toughest situations. And I let out a grin, a smug one at that.
"Ahahaha!" The Orca and Gator snap their attention back to me. Both laughing like it's the funniest damn thing they've ever seen. "Smiling? At a time like this?" The Gator sneers. "You're something else."
But my vision began to become more dim and dimmer as I continued to stand there. My brain moving in circles, and my body's pain is slightly fainting. And then-
My eyes forcefully shut... into nothingness. But I wasn't able to hear or feel anything.
"You know how to bring on a show…" From in front of me, I heard my father's voice. But I couldn't see him, only hear. "Don't you, son."
Why isn't it letting me speak? Come on, mouth, say something, body move already. Eyes open! I want to see my father! But nothing was happening. Why does it feel like a barrier was clamped down on me, locking everything in place?
"Hey Chris," My father's voice let out a whisper, "you've done well, son. I'm proud."
I'm crying? No… I know I am. But I can't see or hear anything but my father's voice. And still… I'm crying. Even here, in this nothingness, I can't stop the tears.
Father! I know I can't speak, but I please, understand me. I'm sorry. I've wronged you. I wasn't confident to say it in my old life, but when I am, the opportunity goes away from me.
"Goodbye son…" my father was still there, I can hear him. His voice like a soft whisper right by my ear. "Take care in this new world. You have the spirit of a cop. Stand proud."
I can't see him, yet I know he's smiling at me. Thank you, Father. Thank you… more than I can say.
And just like that, I felt his presence disappear. His soft whisper that hummed through my ear was gone. But, even as I cried on the inside, I was smiling.
This wasn't the end.
Just the beginning.
The beginning of my life… in a fantasy world… as a policeman.