Chapter 15: Had Way Too Many Drinks

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[Through the Eyes of John Garret]

"Good shot," he said.

Garret shrugged the comment off with a neutral expression, refusing to flinch under the direct gaze of the Devil himself. "They're all good shots, Devil. I did what had to be done."

"Indeed. The job is finished; everything is set in motion. All in its right place. Speaking of, don't let (him/her) out of your sight. For this to work, I need to make sure it works. Understood?"

John nodded. "Perfectly."

The evil incantation turned with a flourish of his cloak, stalking into the depths of the dimly lit hall. Moments later, he disappeared without a trace. And now Garett could breathe easily.

It was no surprise that the Devil had something against (him/her). Didn't everyone?

And yet, that was the real question.

Why did everyone have something against the kid? It was such a complicated set of events and the kid with ice powers was stuck in the middle of it.

He shrugged again.
It wasn't his problem.

You were in the way.

And when the time came, you would fall.

***

[Through the Eyes of Yourself]

For once, you didn't wake up in a hospital or a room with bright white lights.

It might've been comforting, except for the fact that your back lay against the rails of what you knew without a doubt were train tracks. What was even worse was that you could not --for the life of you -- get up from that particular position.

The words 'oops', 'dammit', and 'well crap I'm screwed' come to mind.

"The heck?" You groaned, blinking. Further inspection showed your wrists bound by chains and the same material wrapped around your feet. It didn't seem like a big deal; you'd been in worse situations.

But the longer it took you to freeze off the chains, the more worried you became. "It's like they're frickin' power proof! How? Why? Ugh . . . this day isn't getting any better." Letting your head fall back toward the track you sighed.

Hold up . . . wasn't this the same track that that demon asked you about? Indeed it was, for you raised your head up and spotted that same tunnel only sixty yards away. Well, that was convenient.

After a while you went back to working at the chains, though in a hopeless manner. It felt like days since you'd eaten and although you'd been out for who knows how long and should've gotten some rest, your head hurt immensely and pounded as though you'd gotten no sleep whatsoever. And every time you moved, your chest and ribs hurt and your left shoulder was much weaker than your right. What were you forgetting?

It hit you like a truck, which is exactly how your midsection and above were reacting.

"The Tesseract shard!" You breathed, jerking to sit up and failing. "Oh my . . . It . . . That thing freaking stabbed me! Why aren't I dead?" Look down, you saw blood staining the top left half of your blue sweatshirt and a quick glance showed your hands had meet the same crimson fate for it covered your fingers as well. "It must've missed my heart . . . But . . . Blood loss . . . And shock? I should be dead. My heart should've stopped beating. And," --you leaned down again, the pain sinking in from your attempt to sit up-- "Geez. I need a hospital."

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