Chapter 15

  Stupid fucking idea… Really. Fucking. Stupid. Why the hell did I do this? Everything was fine. We were chilling, swapping stories. No rain overhead. No goddamn mosquitoes at night. Just lie there and spit at the ceiling. Food? Check. Shelter? Check. Even sex was on the table. But nooo, I had to fuck it all up. Freedom… Screw that freedom. Shut up, Mel Gibson. What was so bad about England? So what, your family got killed. Does that mean everyone else has to die for it?

  I was cornered. Behind me, a fifty-meter cliff. In front, a tight ring of bloodthirsty hellhounds closing in. Their feral eyes didn’t let me out of their sight for a second. It’s only a matter of time before one of them ignores my scarecrow and attacks. Where the fuck did they all come from? Is there a damn supermarket nearby?

  I hid behind Grok’s massive corpse, shaking like a leaf, clutching my mattress. Dead Vyer stared at me with reproach. Go fuck yourself! You dragged me here. Your fault! What’s that? You bastard, what did you expect? Thought I’d add you as a friend and like your pics? You piece of shit, you skinned a kid! I don’t give a fuck who told you to do it. Enough of your rotten excuses. Admit it, you loved it. Hope you’re burning bright in hell right now! Wait… I got confused. Nah, it’s fine. This whole rebirth shit. Hope you’re swimming in shit somewhere. Though, for shit-swimmers, that’s probably a blast. Fuck… Just go to hell, alright?

  When I tried to leave my cozy torture den, these sharp-toothed little bitches came running from every corner. At first, I handled them, but they kept coming. If anything, their numbers grew by the minute. Like someone broke the respawn in this zone. So I made the strategic call to retreat under the protection of my dead demons.

  No escape. No clue how long Vyer’s acting skills will hold up, pretending to be alive, but I’m not betting on much. I need to act fast! Set up a solid defense. Lay traps. Build fortifications, whatever. One problem: I’m fucking useless with my hands. In reality, that kid from Home Alone would’ve gotten his ass kicked in the first minute of the robbery. Need another way out.

  Behind me loomed a sheer, perpendicular cliff. I could try climbing it if I were an ant. Sadly, Krishna, out of all biological superpowers—like flying, swimming underwater, or scaling walls—gave me nothing but an inflated ego.

  I found some thin hooks on the table. Using lava, I tried shaping them to drive into the rock. They came out shitty, but whatever. I approached the cliff. I remembered how easily Vyer drove that metal plate into my head. I wanted to try that. I swung with all my might and smashed the hook into the treacherous stone. Success! It went in a whole half-centimeter. Pretty strong bastard, huh? Now what? A cheat code dropping from the sky would be nice. That’s how it goes in stories, right? When the hero’s in deep shit, the universe’s luck and the cheat-skill master come running. Push yourself once or twice, and you’re Rambo in Teletubby land. I’ve been busting my ass here forever, so I deserve a hyper-cool skill. Like summoning a machine gun and rocket launcher with infinite ammo. Haha… Demand it? Fuck off, protagonist. Author, you drunk? Shut your trap, it’s not your business. Put the fourth wall back, and don’t touch it, okay? What if I don’t? Demon fuckers, you ready? Alright, my bad, sorry, forgive me…

  Fine, hooks didn’t work. Let’s try the hammer. I’ll chip notches in the rock to step in. Tedious as hell, but I see no other way. Considering I’ll be doing this at a crazy height, I’m not feeling confident. Lebowski would compare this plan to a Swiss watch.

  So, I started smashing this rock. And as Jon Snow advised, I used the sharp end of the hammer. Took five minutes for one notch. Efficiency knows no bounds. But a true stonebreaker doesn’t stop. So I kept going. The chorus of monstrous growls filled my ears. I didn’t want to turn around. I was barely holding it together, not crying like a little girl. My nostrils, as always, were filled with the sharp stench of sulfur. I’m probably used to this poisoned air, though medicine would lose its shit over my case. The wind picked up. Not uncommon, but so fucking inconvenient… At this height, it’s a serious problem. I’m no alpinist. I need help, not hindrance, but no… Fate had other plans. Maybe wait it out? Then I heard a crash behind me. With wide eyes, I realized Vyer had fallen… FUCK.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  So fate wasn’t done and decided to speed me up with a kick in the ass. It worked. Ever hear those stories about adrenaline boosting human strength? My verdict: myth confirmed. I realized this ten meters up the cliff. Vyer, that bastard. Even dead, he manages to screw me over. The hellhounds below were leaping over each other. And, fuck, they almost reached me. Damn it… Why won’t these beasts leave me alone? Doesn’t hell’s magic apply to them? I don’t know what I was holding onto, but my fingers were getting tired. I was scared to move. Before this heroic climb, my hands somehow tucked the hammer into my belt. Nothing left but to keep going.

  I prayed to Krishna three times, just in case it’s not pointless. I also praised his jacked muscles, unmatched mind, and the biggest dick in the universe. Hope he’s not a woman. I held my breath and let go with one hand. Fucking idiot! Hold on!… Hold on!… Don’t fall! We don’t need to fall. Left hand, don’t get tired. It doesn’t suit you. You’re not some loser. I took such good care of you. Remember, I never even wiped my ass with you. Don’t let me down. I carefully grabbed the hammer. Tried to swing and nearly fell. Shit… Gotta chip the rock without flailing. What am I, Uma Thurman? My left hand’s shaking noticeably from fatigue. I’m about to be dog food. Am I really done for? After all I’ve been through? What a story this could’ve been… In anime, if the hero suffers a lot, everything turns out fine. Enough. Calm down. I need a short, sharp strike. Right, I’ve got magic. If I send a strong pulse to specific muscles, causing a twitch, it might work. Worth a shot. Five percent should do. No repeating Tony Stark’s mistakes. I sent a charge to my tricep and… Voila! My arm snapped out, driving the hammer in up to the handle.

  “Ha! Eat shit, you shitty bastards! Remember this day! The day you almost ate—AAAH!!!”

  Goddamn, karma can’t be that instant! One of those fuckers managed to jump and sink its sharp teeth into my tender ass. In its past life, it was probably Michael Jordan. I had to shoot lightning from my ass to shake off that Olympian. Guess every word I say will be used against me. Fine, I’m shutting up.

  Thanks to my twitchy (as I just called it) technique, I held on after Jordan’s attack. But I can’t stay here. He broke his record, so anything could happen. Gotta get the hammer out. Uh… I said get it out… Listen, hammer, you fucking serious? Get back here! Damn beast… Yanking it hard means hello, hellhounds. Twitchy technique again. Big movements are a one-way ticket to death. Avada Kedavra!... Okay, got the tool, no weightlessness, so we’re good. Lucky. Alright, I get the drill. My survival odds just jumped. From 0% to 2%.

  Things were going okay. Step by step, I slowly climbed. Hands tired, but not critical. Mana, though? Almost gone. Gotta wait for it to regen in this position. No way I’m reaching the top like this. But, you won’t believe it, I got lucky. Oh, Almighty Krishna, your dick could destroy planets with its majesty!

  A bit higher, I found a small pocket in the cliff and gleefully crawled in. There was enough space to lie down. Hallelujah… I’m saved. Time for a breather. I wanted to nap, but after my beloved mattress, hard stone doesn’t cut it. I checked out the view. To the left, a scorched desert stretched to the horizon, dotted with sparse red lava spots like a sieve. To the right, sharp cliffs rose high. Nothing new. The hellhound pack below was gone. Just lone stragglers wandering. Guess they got tired of watching their dessert slip away. Take that, fuckers! I’m the hunter here! Top of the food chain!

  After a short rest, I continued my epic climb. I wanted to get the hell out of this shithole ASAP. My resolve pushed me forward like the wind. I remembered how beautiful a blue sky could be. How soft fresh emerald grass feels. How crisp and cold river water tastes. How delicious a freshly delivered four-cheese pizza is. Those memories felt unreal. Especially the last one. Like it’s all my imagination. A mirage. But I believed in them with all my heart.

  I neared the top. The wind went fucking nuts. Its enthusiasm for pushing me forward was about to backfire. I can’t figure it out: am I lucky or not? Make up your mind! I had to fight hard to keep gusts from ripping me off. If I’m not mistaken, I shat myself once. Not that I’m scared of heights, just… Yeah, I’m scared. I’ve never been higher than the ninth floor! But that’s behind me. Winners don’t get judged. I grabbed the cliff’s edge with my right hand. Then my left. Finally, I pulled myself up, head and shoulders over. Aaaah… So that’s where you all went… A pissed-off pack of hellhounds greeted me at the top… Life never teaches me shit…

  -

  Who can say where the road goes

  Where the day flows, only time

  And who can say if your love grows

  As your heart chose, only time

  -

  No clue why, but as I fell, that song from the Van Damme video, where he does the splits between trucks, popped into my head.

  -

  Who can say why your heart sighs

  As your love flies, only time

  And who can say why your heart cries

  When your love lies, only time

  -