Chương 4: You're Sick

Ch. 4: You're Sick

"You're sick." The room was cold. My sister stared at me from her hospital bed. She turned the birthday card I'd handed her around. There, in big faux-handwritten font, read the phrase, "You're not getting older, you're just getting closer to death."

"What?" I asked, "It's more true in your case than it is for most people." My sister, Dory, was attempting an angry face before finally breaking down into laughter.

"You're sick. You can't bring this to someone in my condition." I smiled at her, and for a second, I forgot I wasn't looking at a reflection. We had the same half-turned grin. But we were different. Dory wanted to be a teacher when we were kids, and I wanted to be a badass.

'Badass' wasn't really a job title, I found out. So I went to college. Prelaw. Our dad passed away during junior year. That was the worst year of my life. Not just because my dad passed, or the fact that I could no longer afford my university fees. It was the worst year of my life because I saw my sister break down and cry while she was planning his funeral. Not since we were kids had I seen her cry that hard. Even as an adult in college, I hesitated to put my arm around her, like I still believed she had cooties.

"We'll make it, Dor-knob," I said, holding back tears myself, "Batman was an orphan, you know." She told me that she wasn't crying because of dad. Or… not just because of dad. She told me about her diagnosis. All those medical words that you never want to hear strung together.

"Malignant. Rare. Deteriorative. Understudied. Overpriced." I had to take over planning my father's funeral. Absolute disaster. Cross 'party-planner' off the occupation list, right along with 'badass.' Anyway, that's how I ended up in that hospital room, handing my sister this awful card. Dory kept smiling at me, shaking her head at my garishness.

"Do your champion friends think you're as funny as you do?" I scratched my head, "Ugh. I'm just messing around, Dor-knob. You'll get better." Her smile weakened. Like, me trying to reassure her had somehow brought the mood down more than when I was joking about her dying.

"Should we just keep ignoring it?" She asked.

"What?" I asked.

"Your face." She wasn't being glib. I had tangoed with an ember pony in an alpha tar pit a few hours before. It whinnied and boxed me with its hoof. A monster doling out fire-effect damage on a melee attack might not hurt a champion much, but I was a mere mortal. And getting a piping hot hoof to the face was nasty, even if the pony was only about waist high. She reached out to touch my cheek, but I blocked her hand.

"Yeah," I said, "I know it's bad."

"How often are you in life-threatening danger?"

"Pays good. I made my rate. Plus, there's a bonus for every monster you successfully kill. I killed that horse… after a lot of stabs. A lot of stabs. So I made an extra $500. That's almost rent. Now everything I do after this is free money." She shook her head.

"Don't tell me you have more to do after this."

"I've got an alpha pit tomorrow morning. Don't worry. I'm sticking to the alphas. For now, but as I get stronger, I can move up and make more money. And if a god touches me… we're in business." Dory was dying in a hospital bed, but she was giving me a pitying look.

"I've been thinking." She said.

"What an absolute waste of time," I countered as I grabbed her meal off the tray, "You eating this?"

"That… it's just… It's been so hard on you. And I know you do all these jobs, but for me… It's not getting any better. The doctor says that the next operation might not even take and that I'll just need more surgeries down the line. When I think about you out there, risking your life for me…" I bent over and started eating her bland hospital food. The boiled chicken was a much-needed source of protein for my aching muscles.

"I can't stand seeing you do all this. Endanger yourself and risk your own life for mine. Especially when we don't know what's at the other end of this. I've been discussing options with my doctor. We've been talking about… ways to make me more comfortable. While-" This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I took one of the potato chips in the bag I'd bought from the vending machine and flicked it at her. She blinked as it bounced off her face.

"You need to stop talking. You're so fucking annoying." I finished her boiled chicken and got up.

"I'm not joking, Drakey," She said, "I can't have you killing yourself-""Sorry," I interrupted, "Just when did you start telling me what to do? You're not my older sister. I'm in charge here." She shook her head, "Listen to me."

"No, you listen," I said, "I'm doing fine. It's all going fine. I'm beating these dungeons, I'm coming back in a majority of one piece. Sure, sometimes I get a light punt to the face, occasionally my stabbing arm gets sore, but I will get noticed by a god. And when I do, things will start to get even better. Now you just focus on staying healthy, and please go fuck yourself."

"Mr. Ramirez?" I unclenched my fist. A woman in a pantsuit stood at the door holding a clipboard. Even worse than when a man in a white suit in a hospital approaches you is when a person is in normal corporate attire.

"I need to speak with you."

"I'll be right out," I told her. I turned back to Dory, who was glaring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Your god-complex is going to get you killed."

"I haven't even had a chance to take my god-complex for a spin yet! Look, I got a shift at the coffee shop tonight. I'll save some pastries for you. Forget this hospital food. I'll see you, alright, Dor-Knob?" She didn't say anything.

"Alright?" I repeated.

"Alright," She muttered. I started to walk out, and she said, "I don't want to be the reason you die." I took my fist and punched the doorframe, "I don't give up out there. You don't give up in here. That's the deal." I couldn't look at her. I walked out, where the pantsuited woman greeted me with a tense smile. Before she opened her mouth, I knew what it was she would say.

"We need to talk about her payment."

My double dagger slid through where Penelope's chest and shoulder connected. The dagger penetrated her lithe body as I sank the blade as deep as the handle.

"What… the fuck, Drake?" She asked as she looked down at the blade.

"Sorry, Nelo," I said. The goatman dropped the sword he was holding to her neck, and his body slumped to the ground. My blade had pierced through Nelo, into the goatman's heart. He lay there on the ground, his eye catching mine as his life escaped him. I grabbed Nelo before she dropped and placed her glowing hand on her own wound. It closed up the hole internally a bit, but it was a pretty large wound that would need a greater healing spell or medical attention.

We were both entirely drained of strength as I guided her body to the ground.

"You got anymore juice for another pain-killing spell?" I asked Nelo coughed up blood on her shirt.

"Drake, your body can't take that. You shouldn't even be w-walking."

"I know. But, come on. Do you have anything?"

"My ring… it lets me cast half-spells. I can help you feel less pain. But wouldn't you rather I wait until my healing comes back?" She placed her hand on me. She was right, I felt about halfway better. This did not mean any of my wounds were healed. It simply meant my brain and body no longer noticed.

"You're not sticking around," I said as I took something out of my sweater pocket. It was a blue crystal with a faint, emanating glow coming from inside.

"A returnstone?" Penelope asked, eyes wide, "How could you afford one?

"Are you kidding? I can't. This is like two months' wages. I pilfered it off a dead body in a previous pit. I've been holding onto it for a moment just like this one." I placed it in her palm.

"Why didn't you use it before now?" I held her fingers in my hand, then I let out a chuckle.

"Franz never gave the order. It would have been considered a wrongful retreat, and I wouldn't have gotten paid my 800 dollars." Her face turned sour, and she let out a haughty laugh.

"You cheap bastard."

"Save it for the eulogy," I said as I wrapped my hands around her fingers and closed them, crushing the rock. Her body turned into light as it pulled her out of the tar pits. As soon as she was gone, my smile faded. I stood up and limped past the battlefield. Most goatmen ignored me as an invalid. Why wouldn't they? I was easy pickings. It was easier to use their strength on the remaining champions, of which there were only two left. The goatmen dragged the corpse to the same pile as the other bodies.

Spiros waved his hand, and a wall of clouds surrounded him and the demon. I could still see them, though, and crept closer, unseen by them.

"Finally, some privacy," the god said.

"You don't know what a headache it's been. But thirteen. Thirteen bodies as you requested. A spare even came along. Although he's so weak, I'm not sure he's worth it. Well, on with it. Let's see it." The demon held the curved blade in his hand. It shone with a teal green blade. Its handle was like a beetle's carapace. At the end was an orange jewel. The demon held it up and in a language I could understand, said, "Strong enough to kill a god."

As Spiros reached for it, the demon switched it from a light hold to a firmer stance, then placed the blade closer to Spiros' chest. Spiros went on the defensive, but the demon relaxed his grip.

"I kid." Spiros unclenched his fighting stance.

"That was nasty. Be careful where you point that thing. So it's poison, right? Umbrosia?"

"Hey, Asswipe." Spiros turned to see who had called him an asswipe. It was me. I grabbed him by his dumb kimono and punched him across the mouth with what was left of my strength. As soon as my fist made contact with his face, I heard a voice in my head. Champion initialized.