Artificial Memory (DISCONT'D BUT WILL UPLOAD UNEDITED CHAPTERS)

Chapter 3: The Genderqueer Tumblr Shitposter In My Head Is Actually Useful

That move happened to include me throwing all my weight behind my first two fingers and jabbing them into his eyeballs. A squelching noise was followed by blood and some gross, clear liquid spurting onto my hand.

This made me question whether or not I was an angry sociopath.

Well, when life gives you lemons, or in my case, split-second fighting ability, destroy your enemies.

He began screaming, clawing at his eyes and stumbling around blindly. To be honest, I was less concerned about my situation and more concerned about the nasty stuff all over my fingers from rupturing his eyeballs. I wrinkled my nose in disgust and shook my hand off with a mutter of,

"Gross..."

"YOU DAMN BRAT!!"

Arnold-Wannabe shrieked, agony tight in his voice.

Bloody tears dripped down his cheeks and the ring of men rushed in at me all at once. Arnold-wannabe collapsed as I threw fire at anyone who moved. Of course, given the massive wave of men who seemed to give zero shits about how I was turning them into extra-crispy bacon, I had kinda lost my chill. It didn't take long for me to tire myself out because I had stupidly gone at full energy the whole time and totally forgotten about escape. I gritted my teeth, glaring at the wary men who cautiously approached me. Lost in my hatred for them, I shouted,

"GET AWAY FROM ME OR I'LL KILL YOU ALL!!"

A massive force slammed into my upper back from behind, cutting of my next string of curses and knocking me to my knees. While I attempted to get back on my feet, the same person kicked me in the side and dropped me onto my side instantly. I coughed, trying to regain my breath.

Just as the same asshole laid the blade of his knife over my hand, there was the faint whistling of air over feathers and I glanced at the sky. The smack of skin on skin, the confusion of the man as he was knocked sideways, and screams of pain followed the unnatural sound.

The man who had pretty much immobilized me was desperately blocking an onslaught of punches. The one beating the tobacco juice out of him? Thankfully, that was Memory with a knife held in his teeth. He jumped off as the guy degenerated into a blubbering, mercy-begging mess and stood over me.

"You took your damn time."

I spat despite my relief.

He shrugged, then shouted,

"WHO'S NEXT?!"

An uneasy murmur rumbled through their diminished ranks, but the one whom I'd burned screamed,

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT SHARD WANTS, KILL THEM!!"

The men hesitated briefly at his crazed words, but began to move forward. I slowly made my way up to my knees, wanting to help him fight, but my chest was in so much pain. Noticing that I couldn't get up and fight on my own, Memory rushed all about me and fought them off with all his strength. It seemed to drag on forever, but it had probably only been ten minutes. His fists were growing bloody from the repeated attacks he initiated and his breaths growing ragged.

Finally, just as he was losing the energy to keep up his usual uncanny speed, one came up from directly behind and grabbed Memory's stupid scarf. He was my only hope and his scarf ruined it.

I've never hated that scarf so much.

The sharp yank on his neck had caused him to cough and drop the knife with a metallic clank. Memory let out an angry shout, repeatedly jabbing his elbows into his assailant's abdomen, but one of the men he'd been fighting before, a bald one, grabbed Memory's knife off the ground and plunged the blade into his shoulder.