Wormhole Ch.3 (Updated)

Author’s Note:

Don’t know how many people will read it but here is the revamped version of Wormhole Chapters 3 of 5. I’m getting ready for a release on other sites so I felt it had to be done. Still the same continuity as chapters 6 and beyond, just spruced up with some extra bits added. Chapter 12 will be coming soon.

Enjoy and comment.




Now I know what a tossed pizza dough feels like.

All things considered, I was holding up pretty good, managing to duck and dodge half of his shots while countering with some of my own. Every now and then, I’d get a really good deep strike on him that was satisfying as all hell. Although with a guy his size, I think I would break my hands before I broke him. But hey, Washington didn’t beat that tree with one swing. Although in George’s case, the tree didn’t hit back. As long as I could keep chopping away and keep his hands off of me, I might have half a chance.

As I nailed a few more shots into his stomach, he caught me with a hammer blow to the head, grounding me. He didn’t seem very sure-footed to me. So before he reigned down on me again, I delivered a sharp kick to his knee. Now we were leveled.

Once he dropped, I took the upper hand and drove my knee squarely into his head. Dammit, he didn’t fall over. He wants another? Then I’ll pour another shot. This time though, he caught my leg with his big meaty hands. Up above his head I went, just before I was sent sailing into a nearby computer terminal, shattering it with sparks and all. I hoped that wasn’t something I could have used. My armor was a great asset. If it wasn’t for that, I think I would have been worse for wear. But my back and left shoulder would probably give a “fuck you” to that little theory.

My thoughts were interrupted as the big ox managed to catch me off guard. He gripped me by the throat and threw me again, this time crashing head-first through a large crate a good ten feet away. Ouch. I bet some of the cracking I heard wasn’t just the crate.

Dazed, I pulled myself out of the crate. Before I could even get a peak at what was inside the crate, my aching head was suddenly viced in his hands. Instantly, I felt the pressure building up, threading to burst my eyes out of their sockets. Whether he was going to crush my head or drill his fingers into my eyes, I wasn’t going to place a bet and find out. I needed to break his grip before my brain got a new air hole.

No matter how much I struggled, his arms were too strong for me to break off. So my only defense was to quickly drop and flip him over me in front of me. I didn’t even wait for my vision to completely come back before I was on his back with a choke hold. As strong as I may have been, I was like Macaulay Culkin to this big guy. I really wish I had a paint can on a string right now.

The big thug still stood up pretty easily with me on him but I wasn’t about to let go. He began piggy-backing me around, only stopping went he would sandwich me against something hard. Yes I heard you cry out in pain the first time, spine. C’mon, work with me here.

We started heading toward another broken terminal at high speed for another crushing. I may have taken several blows to the head, but I knew the odds in this fight were not increasing in my favor. So at the last second, I let go and dropped toward the back of his legs. With all that momentum, he tripped over me and was sent smashing straight into his target, minus myself of course. Hopefully his back broke like the terminal. But I didn’t have time to waste. I needed to get my guns. After all, even Culkin had a BB gun to fight back.

I raced up the hill as fast as my noodle legs could carry me. As I ran, I could hear the Skarlik coming up behind me. I was almost there, just a few more feet. Opting for a dive toward the closest gun, I transitioned into a roll upon hitting the ground. With weapon in hand, I sloppily readied myself while catching a glimpse of the enraged, battered face lunging at me. Everything happened in a split second. My gun went off and his big ass buried me with massive force. With him on top, I expected him to continue with a strangle hold or a flurry of punches. But nothing came. I dug myself out and saw that my shot was lucky but nevertheless well placed; right in the left eye to be exact. Talk about laser eye surgery.

I looked over to the other Skarlik who was still sitting against the wall. He hadn’t moved since I last saw him, nor was he even breathing. Bled out, good, because I collapsed to the ground and passed out before I could count how many stars I was seeing. I was the victor but I felt like I placed last.

I’m not sure how long I was unconscious, but when I did come to, I didn’t believe the whole thing was a dream. No matter how much I wished it was, I knew better. That and the pain was still a harsh reminder. I wasn’t in the state of mind, or body, to go looting; I was too distressed and outright pissed about what I had found already. Any more excitement and I might have burned out a bearing in my brain. What I wanted was to get back to Vallick and a nice bed, to hide under. Trying to figure out my next move right now was impossible. Too many pessimistic thoughts erratically bounced around inside my head, along with a drumming pain. I mindlessly mounted my cart and rode back to Vallick, worrying the whole way.

My journey back to Vallick felt like an eternity. I couldn’t even tell you what happened during the ride. It was all a blur, maybe for the best. After riding up to the horse trough in Vallick, I jumped off and joined the other horses as I plunged my head deep into the rancid fountain for a mouthful. I was used to getting plenty of odd stares on a regular basis, so it might as well have been just another day for me. “Not good enough” I said to no one in particular as I came back up for air. I turned and headed toward the tavern down the street. I figured a stronger drink might sort out the ADHD circus I created in my head. Or just knock me out like Rip Van Wrinkle and wake up in a better place and time.

I nearly fell through the tavern doors onto my face as I entered. Usually you exit like that, not enter but tough days, right? I sat down at the bar where the Girtablilu bartender promptly attended me while cleaning a fairly large bear stein.

“Well hello, Jason. You look a little… limp” she said in her usual flirtatious tone whenever we met.

“Hey, Lucette” I said with a surprising amount of stability given my battered state. “Just fill up that mug up with whatever you recommend for a shit day at the salt mine”

“Recommend? How about my personal ‘Desert Heat Special’? That should help straighten out your ego” she said with more emphasis on the “straighten” part than was necessary. Who doesn’t love a sex predator joke? But I was too tired by then, so I brushed it off and agreed. I was only in it for the alcohol; her little bug drug would pass me by.

She came back with the mug and a large, scheming smile on her face. Kind of that ‘ready to steal Christmas’ kind of grin. Quickly, I downed the whole thing in one go, nearly choking on it. “I needed that” I said while catching my breath. “Give me another”. She hesitated as she studied my face but nevertheless complied with my request. Probably noticing how I wasn’t sweating or hardening up with more wood than the bar room floor, she likely added more of her venom this time. A few moments later, she returned with another shot. She rinsed, and I repeated. That large smile she sported so proudly earlier had disappeared. I also caught her staring at my pants, waiting for the soldier to pitch a tent.

But my secret “condition” kept the little soldier AWOL. As usual with these predictable mamono, when they pull out their bag of sensual tricks and games, they don’t realize that I’m playing as well. Funny isn’t it? If I wasn’t so overcome with anxiety, I would have enjoyed her befuddled expression more than a Siren at karaoke night.

As her cocktails became less and less 100-proof, I decided that I wanted the real-deal stuff. I requested to purchase the bottle of brandy sitting behind her. With a slacked jaw and archaic eyes, she handed me the bottle. I left with my new medicine, minus a silver coin of course. “By the way, next time stir the drink. Keeps the poison off the bottom” I said as I departed. Yet another photo-worthy expression.

Besides, I think she ran out of venom to poison my drink with. Well, well, well. Looks like I was the one who drained her dry.

As I walked out the door and down the street, I was stopped by a familiar voice behind me.

“Hello again, fellow misfit. Who’s your new friend there?” It was the little scholar from earlier, looking just as lively as when I first met her. Maybe even more so.

“A problem-solver” I said as I kept walking, only for her to follow alongside me.

“Where are you off to now? A second lunch?”

“Back to my hotel room so me and my new friend can get acquainted”

“So that’s just to help you drink away your problems?”

“No it’s a Molotov. Of course it’s to get drunk!” I said aggressively. “And what makes you think I have a problem?”

“People either drink because they have a problem or they want a problem. And you seem like too much of a loner to want more trouble than you clearly already have. Why don’t you tell me all about your troubles? It could be fun for me and therapeutic for you. But mostly fun for me” she snickered playfully.

Gee, she may just have a chance at becoming a regular Nancy Drew. Unless my bruised appearance was too much of a dead giveaway. But fuck it. I’d just badger myself alone in my room, so might as well have a drinking partner to not share my drink with. Besides, I did prefer talking to her over anyone else. She’s really weird, but in this world, traditional weird is kind of a relief to come across. On top of that, she was a good listener. What have I got to lose? I could pass out in the horse trough instead of a bed.

We sat on a bench nearby as I quietly downed some of the brandy. It’s sizzling flavor burned my throat on the way down as I felt like smoke was steaming out my nose. It was great. She, on the other hand, had other ideas.

“Well come on. Spill it” she demanded eagerly. Playing along, I tipped the bottle a bit and moistened her shoe. “Not that way, you rascal! Tell me what happened” she said more anxious for answers than the cleanliness of her footwear.

“What’s to say? Bad day at the office”


“Forget it, that’s just the booze talking. But it’s simple; I fucked up. Well, fucked up more than I realized. Nothing too severe. Just death, destruction, carnage, and whatever other fun this masquerade of blunders called ‘life’ has left in its flush-hole”. Clearly this was some good brandy.

Even though she kept up her smile, she seemed taken aback, almost like she was trying to contain herself. If she found this fun, then wait until I get into my good material.

She deeply inhaled before returning with an even wider smile. Eyes glazed a bit. “May I ask what kind of tribulation led you to this conclusion?” she inquired as she rested her head against her palm. Smug, ain’t she?

“That’s my business, ‘friend'”

“Call me Veina” she said with an awkward click of her heels.

“Cute. That’s my business, Veina. Now let me ask you something. Why do you care so much about me? In one day you’ve given me more questions than David Letterman. What are you looking to get out of me?”

She giggled cheekily. “Just trying to amuse myself. I enjoy your company”

“You just met me today, girl”

“Well it’s not easy to forget a candy-covered porcupine of an enigma like yourself”

Try and figure out if that was a compliment. Because I can’t.

“Call it another weakness” I said as I took another swig of brandy.

“It may be a weakness, but I can tell you’re not stupid. Outlandish but not stupid. In fact I’d say you’re a man who can think on his feet. Someone with excellent problem solving skills. And definitely a creative side”

She seemed to trail off on the word “creative”

“Flattery detected”

“Maybe, but it’s no less true. Sure you found yourself some problems, but doesn’t everyone have problems?”

“Not like my problems”

“Ah yes; the individualist. Everyone’s problems are unique to each individual. Who’s problem isn’t ‘unique’?”

“If we’re doing condescension now, I should warn you that I got you out-gunned”

“Incorrect, good sir!” Veina said with an accent. “That was a Mist Continent accent, just in case you are wondering”

Great, now I can put my mind to rest.

“Do I look like I fucking care?”

“You look like someone who needs help with a problem”

“Don’t lecture me, wise-ass. You don’t even know what my problem is”

“So? The problem itself is beside the point”

“Urgh” I groaned impatiently. “How is my mistake beside the damn point?”

“Not that problem. The other problem. You created it yourself and you keep it to yourself. A problem for a problem”

My perplexed mind left my face as blank as the Slenderman. I watched her, hoping to spot the loose screw finally spring from her ear.

“You’re doing things the hard way, duh” she mocked, probably noticing the stupidity plastered all over my face. “You may be more qualified to tackle this problem than anyone else, but if you don’t tell anyone what the problem is, then that leaves only you to solve it. Or fail at it. Either one. But if the only one you confide in is that bottle of booze, I’d say you’ll wind up failing like the rest of the fools”

Blatant yet snooty. I could’ve respected than, just not right now. Her methods of motivation are less “Independence Day” speech and more “van down by the river” speech. Sounds right, since I already wanted to throw her through a table.

“Sure it’s always fun to preach, especially when you’re not the one who has to practice, Oprah” I sneered back at her attempt to “help” me.

“Nevertheless, my point stands. One thing that we all share is the responsibility for fixing our own problems. We may not always be the cause of them but that makes no difference. If we are the cause of them, then it’s even more important to tackle them head on. But doing it alone is probably not the best course of action. The least you can do is spread the blame around” she laughed. “But who knows? Maybe something good can come out of fixing these problems if you have someone else to confront them with”. And just like that, she’s back to a more serious tone. Maybe bipolar is a prerequisite for a scholar’s college degree.

She was predictable in that she would be unpredictable.

As she continued talking, I zoned out. Veina may have been nuttier than squirrel shit, but as much as I didn’t want to believe it, there was some truth in what she said. Honestly, I already knew what I had to do. I was hoping that the alcohol could change my mind, but to no avail. I knew lots of guys in my time that could avoid all life’s problems with the Three Stooges; Bud Light, Budweiser, and Jagermeister. But this would require the Marx Brothers approach: answer some crazy shit with your own crazy shit. If I had missed some Skarliks, I knew what kind of destruction and chaos they would bring when they would inevitably spread across this world. And no amount of huge bazongas getting pushed into their faces could deter them. They don’t roll that way.

As insane as it was, someone had to stop them. Well shit, if no one else would bring themselves to take on a bunch physically superior beings all by themselves then I guess it would be up to a hero to do it. But that hero’s on another network, so I guess this crazy jackass will just have to don the cape and tights. Maybe I could get some badass theme music with it.

My situation sucked already, so it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ultimately, this was my problem and I needed to handle it myself. Time to un-fuck what I fucked up. This world had enough shit as it was, so it didn’t need to get any worse for the common folk. I may not have had the best tools to do this but at least style and finesse weren’t required for the job.

After my strange interlude, I returned to reality. While I was zoned out, Veina somehow got onto the subject of a Centaur and a Wyvern opening a factory of pies served in bowls made from Order armor. I think things were more sober when I was daydreaming.

“You got a stash under your coat? If so, tell me what kind, give me some, and stay here while I go call the L.A.P.D.” I said without as much sarcasm as you would think. I actually could use a good joint right now.

“Oh a dreamer, huh? Tell me, what other dreams do you have?” she said with that deranged enthusiasm returning to her face.

Man it never ends with this bimbo. But at least I looked more normal by comparison whenever she was around.

We chatted for a little longer about our “dreams”. Figures, Veina found my dream of jumping the flag pole in Super Mario Brothers as “inspiring”. The fact that she didn’t understand me was an afterthought to her, of course. Being a scholar, at least in her own mind, she dreamed of a line of people that she would lecture to until she mentally broke them down to her level; my words.

Like before, I noticed Veina’s face grow more red and sweaty. Though not as heavy this time, it was still just as peculiar.

Sure enough though, the strains of the day, as well as the booze, caught up to me and begged to continue my hunt for a soft bed. As I departed, she, thankfully, didn’t look ready to follow me.

“You gonna finish that drink in one night?” Veina asked with a hint of concern.

“That’s the plan”. After all, John McClain proved that if you’re going to tackle your problems, you might as well be armed with a hangover.

“Alone? You’re a guy, so perhaps spending the night in someone else’s bed would be more… rewarding. And being a guy, I’m sure you noticed that these mamono are perfect for such a deed. What you see on them is very real”

“So are STDs” I sassed as I rubbed my throbbing skull.

“Well, you smell like a bum who could sure use some relief”

“I’m looking for sleep, not to moonlight as a boy-toy for some mamono’s cravings. Nor am I wanting someone to play with my mind as much as my crotch. I’m a solo act”

If she takes that as a masturbation innuendo… fine.

I may have been a little drunk, but that part of my brain was still on duty. And the biggest thing on my mind was her bizzaro Uncle Ben advice about problems and responsibility. Even though I probably would’ve come to that conclusion on my own, I could have at least got a good night of alcohol and self loathing before it came to me. She just rescheduled it. Sure her motivational skills had some screws missing, but at the end of the day, she could still drive someone.

“No allegiance to the Order, no wife, and still you refuse. Extraordinary”

“Instead of nosing around with me, maybe you should go get yourself laid” I said as I started walking away. “You know, by one of those Nutty Professor types with a fetish for Ronald McDonald on a merry go round”

“Eventually” she murmured obscenely before going uncharacteristically quiet. Funny, I expected her to come back with the tale of the fucking Rhino Godmother or something. Oh well.

After I left Veina, I headed back to the hotel, fully intent on to crashing onto my bed. I guessed one more good night’s sleep would be great. Because I knew I wasn’t going to get another one for a long time.

As I approached the hotel, a sense of relief washed over me. I couldn’t wait to greet my bed again. But as I entered the lobby, a strange kind of heat came over me, and it wasn’t the alcohol that I just finished off. I couldn’t quite label the feeling coursing through me but I knew something was off. Maybe the light violet haze filling the room was a hint. I hadn’t felt this kind of strange feeling since…

Just then I heard a squeal to my right. There was an Arachne and a guy reenacting the kiss from Spiderman; only he was strung up like a puppet as he hung naked from the ceiling with the Spiderwoman caressing his goods and kissing his upside down lips.

I looked to my left to find another sight. A Medusa had another guy wrapped up in her serpentine body. They were love-rolling along the floor towards me. I didn’t have time to move as I tumbled over the living barrel and onto the floor. I regrouped and watched as both circus acts were bellowing groans of pleasure throughout the soon to be filthy lobby. Better keep the Kikimoras on standby.

Then I remembered Tifa’s “party” as she called it. I’d seen these kinds of parties before. With all the drinking and drug-abusing, they usually had an abundance of Gothic weirdos. And Tifa was a Vampire; I should have seen this coming. If my deduction skills were worth a damn, I’d say this purple haze wasn’t there to make the anniversary party extra sentimental. Or maybe it was, depending on how you look at it. Fucking great.

The orange drug is the instant pants soiler, and the purple drug makes you so pent up that you willingly forget what the word “consent” means. Just another thing for me to note, assuming that I live through the night. Yeah, because it was then that I remembered how Tifa had her sights set on me. Not only my O-positive juice but my man juice as well.

Dammit, I wasn’t in the mood for this tonight.

I jumped back over the serpent steamroller and back out the door. Thankfully, Tifa wasn’t in the lobby when I stupidly entered. Gave me a chance to sneak into my room. But don’t kid yourselves, folks. I wasn’t spending the night here; not now or ever again. I’ll find a place with better standards. One that actually looks down on raping the guests. Long shot, I know.

But there was still some of my personal belongings up in my room. Who knows how long the hotel would be under the effects of this happy gas; as in happy-to-see-you gas. I mean, it could be weeks before the heat cooled down for all I knew. Yes that kind of ‘heat’. I wasn’t too keen on leaving my goods behind, so I would have to sneak up there, pack up my “luggage”, and run out of here like a bat out of Hell.

Let’s go break our lease.

I scaled a nearby tree to the second floor and managed reach my window. To improve my stealth, I took off my armor and guns and temporarily left them outside the window. The last thing I needed was for Tifa to hear me from outside.

Once in my apartment, I loaded the rest of my property into a bag as quietly as I could. I thought everything was peachy until I heard someone moving around in my bed behind me. I shuddered as my mouth went dry in a second. Before I could make a break for the window, the bed-hopper jumped on top of me in the dark. Something warm and soft pressed into my face as I struggled to move. I could feel heavy breathing on my ear along with a hand going for my groin. The softness smothering my face quickly receded only to have my pants yanked off, leaving me in nothing but my briefs.

I scrambled to get up, but my assailant pounced onto me again, followed by the same softness enveloping my face and gripping my head. But enough was enough. I rolled my opponent to the side only to have their legs try to cling to my waist. Managing to break their grip on my head, I jumped up and ran out the door into the hallway, slamming the door behind me.

“Alright Tifa! I know it’s you!” I yelled though the door as I held it closed. “Just calm the fuck down!”

I felt a hard thud against the door, almost hard enough to throw me off of it. I had a lot to be desired in terms of matching a mamono physically. Bottom line, I would rather deal with her bark than her bite.

“J-Jason…” I heard Tifa’s feral voice leak through the door as she pressed hard on the other side. “Just one round and a little taste! That’s all I want! Is that wrong!?”

“Would you be saying that if you weren’t all hopped up on drugs? Who brought those to the party, huh?” I said while holding my ground on my side.

“What drugs? It’s love, Jason. And love leads to… lust” she said, slurring out the last words.

“Yeah well this purple smoke isn’t from Barney’s nicotine addiction! It’s making you go nuts!”

“NUTS!” she yelled back, obviously triggered by the misinterpreted word. Nice one, loverboy. The door flew open in a flash. Without any hesitation, I turned the force from the door into a dash down the hall. I didn’t need to turn around to know that Tifa was in hot pursuit.

I quickly ducked into a room at the end of the hall. Instinctively, I knocked over a nearby wooden cabinet to block Tifa’s entrance. Looking around I appeared to be in a small dining room. But I don’t remember a dining room having the tablecloth and dishes scattered on the ground. In their place on the table laid a Dullahan and a Mummy, twisted together with their hands positioned in the other’s crotch. I take it this wasn’t a wrestling match.

“Don’t mind me, I’m only passing through. Just… continue with your little pay-per-view” I chimed confidently, even though I was awkwardly out of place in this scenario.

Just then, Tifa busted through the downed cabinet. I quickly grabbed a fallen chair, wishing I had my guns on me.

“Now look, Tifa. Get a grip!” I yelled as I raised the chair into a defensive position.

“If you stand still, I will!” Tifa concurred back at me. I could finally see her clearly. She was completely flushed in the face. Her red eyes dripped with desire and drool was running through her twisted, sharp grin. I could see her fangs ready to feast at the diner in my jugular. I picked a great room for this, didn’t I? Her cape was missing and the rest of her wardrobe looked disheveled and disorganized. So much for style.

“Oh shut up! I’m not a pork chop you carnivore. So just back the hell off and keep your Twilight fan fiction to yourself” I hissed as I began to circle the table toward the door on the other side.

“Oh, it’s too late now, Jason. I’ve been waiting to taste your blood since the moment you walked into my hotel. Your blood smells… so sweet”. Strange, I thought my blood would be sour if anything. “And then we’ll move on to the fun part. Some sexy time, together”

I just about inched my way to the door when the other two chicks jumped off the table and interjected themselves into our scene.

“A real man!” cried the Mummy.

“Yes. We don’t have to pretend anymore!” the Dullahan added. Considering how all the guys in the hotel were either with their wives or already snagged, these two must have had to make do with each other. Wonderful. Besides a Vampire, I now had a corpse and Death’s messenger targeting me. What I wouldn’t give for a chain whip and a flying cross right now.

Bad to worse. Terrific. I had to escape before they turned me into a necrophiliac.

Before the three could close in on me, I ran out the opposite door into another room. This time I locked it behind me, not that it would hold for long.

This time I was in a bedroom. An Ushi Oni was flattening some poor sap on a bed that appeared to have broken recently. With an Ushi Oni, I couldn’t be sure if the dude was still conscious, or even alive for that matter. It didn’t even matter as the Ushi Oni kept lusciously pounding away on him without even acknowledging my presence. Tifa and her Tifettes were pounding at the door like the Ushi Oni on the guy. Shit, no way out, not even a window.

Soon enough, in through the door they charged, and me trapped like a mouse.

I ran behind the big Ushi Oni to use as a shield and thus the circle of strafing began without the big ass spider even caring about our little dance. I just wanted a clear shot toward the door but there wasn’t a chance. With three on one, it didn’t take long for them to surround me. Tifa charged from the left, the Dullahan and Mummy charged from the right, smacking me right in the middle as they collided against me all at once.

Instantly I was being assaulted by six hands; groping more than just my bathing suit area. Their entire bodies hugged mine so tight that I could barely move. While restraining, my predicament didn’t feel unpleasant, physically. I may have been distraught over my situation but my body still enjoyed how perfectly padded their bodies were. I couldn’t have expected any less from a mamono.

“My, such strong essence” the Dullahan purred.

“Good cheek bones, too” the Mummy chimed in.

“Nowhere to run, Jason. Time to feed us” Tifa said fiendishly, clearly taking the lead in this little lynch mob. I was stuck. No hopes of prying them off me. Unarmed, I could barely handle one mamono, let alone three. I was fucked. Or about to be.

Dammit, I wish I had my guns to pacify them.

However, Lady Luck finally cut me some slack. The Ushi Oni shifted on the bed, sending her huge ass abdomen ramming into us. The force was so strong that it sent the four of us straight through the wall and crashing down the stairs into the lobby.

Pretty thin walls, don’t you think? All the easier to listen in on some action. What pervs.

We laid at the bottom of the stairs in a tangled mess of limbs and moans. I fared the best of us, mainly because of the warm, monster casket surrounding me. They limply held onto me, dazed and groaning. I had to act now.

Digging myself out of the living grave, I staggered my way toward the door. The Medusa from earlier was still wrapped around her lover. Her eyes were glowing as she turned parts of him to stone with a lewd giggle. Ha! I knew someone would get stoned at this party.

Behind me, I heard Tifa and the other two picking themselves up. “Jason” Tifa slurred as she and the others started to advance.

No weapons to defend myself with so fuck it. I’m going to make lemonade with these lemons life has given me.

I dived toward the Medusa, grabbed a handful of snake hair, and turned her head toward the monster squad.

The three of them turned to stone statues faster than you could say “liberty”. I may not have had my chain whip and cross but a Medusa head did the trick. Give me my glowing Castlevania orb.

‘Fucking finally’, I thought to myself, finally getting some relief. They would be fine; I knew that this condition wasn’t lethal. The Medusa’s magic could be undone, provided that she sobered up first. I admired myself for that little improvisation. That is until the Medusa’s hair-snakes started biting my hand.

Yeah, I forgot about that.

With the rest of the evening carved in stone for my antagonists, I returned to my room to retrieve my crap and, more importantly, my pants. I didn’t want to risk another sexual predator trying to eat me, so I leaped out the window instead. Though that jump did it. My stomach began to curl and I knew what was coming next. I bent over behind the tree and proceeded to vomit. Shit, that was some good brandy, too. But who gives a dick? I was free. Free from Tifa’s hotel.

There goes my five star rating.

Finding another hotel for the night could wait. I already had enough fun in Dracula’s castle and I didn’t need a sequel. I didn’t want to deal with any more mamono tonight, so I crashed in the only place I felt I could get some peace; my cave. However, the blanket and pillow I snagged before I left didn’t make my dirt nap much cozier. Looks like I wasn’t going to get that soft bed after all.

Hell of a night. And party.

In the morning, my body felt like I’d slept in a cement mixer loaded with bricks. And don’t even get me started on my head. With a slow crawl out of my hole, I stood up. Nope, no use fighting it. Even with my hangover, dilapidated body, and the likely psychological scars of the previous night, I unfortunately still had a bad case of responsibility nesting in my head. If these portals were going to keep opening, I couldn’t ignore them. I had work to do. Goddamn conscience.

I loaded up my two guns and set out to the portal site in my cart. If I did find more Skarliks waiting for me, then… well hell if I knew how I would beat them but they had to be eliminated. Sure, I may have been beat to hell, but I wasn’t going to postpone this public service cleanup.

It was a lousy job, but someone had to do it.

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3 thoughts on “Wormhole Ch.3 (Updated)

  1. I noticed a couple of typos. You use the word ‘shuttered’ when you should use ‘shuddered’ (this also happened in earlier chapters).

    Also, our hero says “Goddamn conscious.” It should be conscience.

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