//------------------------------// // This is Why I Hate Convenience Stores // Story: A Hiss in the Dark // by Knight Breeze //------------------------------// “I just want one thing to go right today! Can't I have that?” I yelled at the uncaring night sky, my fist raised up, and my index finger pointed at the cosmos as the rain continued to pelt me. As if to add insult to injury, however, The Universe decided that my statement only deserved further punishment. Instead of blessing me with instant good fortune, like my bike miraculously fixing itself then and there, I instead got a face full of mud from a semi, its engine screaming at me as it passed. “Great,” I sighed as I vainly tried to wipe the mud from my face. My clothes were ruined, but that hardly mattered at this point. I wasn't going to make it to my date with my wheels trashed like this, stupid piece of junk. To be honest, though, the bike was old. It had been my brother's when he had been to college, and he had given it to me once he had gotten married. Something about not wanting to set a bad example for the kids or something like that. Despite being so old, the vehicle had become my only mode of transportation and had served me faithfully for years, all the way up to my sophomore year of college. Only to die here, on the side of the road, leaving me high and dry (figuratively speaking) with a hot date in three minutes. It honestly felt like I had lost a friend. I despondently started to push my bike up the road, fully aware that the nearest gas station was three miles away, cursing loudly at my terrible phone service. Seriously, I wasn't that far from campus, and the cell tower was only five miles away from that. You'd think that being only ten miles from the nearest cell tower would mean I got excellent service, but somehow my horrendous luck kept my bars nonexistent. I would have asked for help from one of the other motorists, if there were any. Despite this being a major road for the area, there just wasn't anyone out tonight. Everybody was either studying, home, partying, or asleep. Well, everyone besides me and the semi, but he had already passed me by after throwing an unnecessarily large amount of mud all over me, so he didn't count. All in all, it was looking to be a pretty crummy evening. * * * “Finally!” I shouted as the gas station came into view. It had taken me the better part of three hours to get this far, but I was finally here. Exhausted, I pushed into the gas station, my back aching and my brow covered in sweat. Once I had rolled my bike into one of the parking spaces, I gently pushed the kickstand down and made my way inside. Once inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the cashier. She was rather short, probably only four and a half feet tall, with piercing gray eyes and dark luminous skin. Her straight black hair was done up in a ponytail, and she was standing ramrod straight behind the counter. Without much ceremony, I slowly made my way up to her and plopped my helmet down on the counter. “Hey, could I use your phone? My bike exploded, and I need to call a tow truck,” I asked in a slightly jovial tone of voice. I was tired, but I wasn't about to let that stop my sense of humor. Besides, she was cute. “No, I'm sorry, no phone here,” she said nervously. If I had been a bit more observant, I would have noticed how her eyes kept darting to the side and downwards behind the counter. However, being the thick blockhead I was, I completely missed the signs that she was showing. “Come on, I know you have a phone, I used it last week!” I said, a little exasperated at her lie. I was about to protest further when the girl's eyes widened at something behind me. I started to turn, but at that moment something conked me in the back of the head and I remembered no more. * * * “Where is it!” A masculine voice shouted somewhere nearby. I groaned slightly, my head spinning from the force of the blow. As I stirred, I could feel the cold tile of the floor on my face, while the back of my head throbbed painfully as I slowly came to. “I don't know what you're talking about!” The cashier from before whimpered back. I heard a slapping sound, followed closely by a feminine scream. “The key to the safe out back! I know you know where it is, you use it every night to lock up the earnings from the day, and we want it!” A different male voice shouted at the poor girl. Slowly my eyes opened, and I immediately regretted my decision to do that. The world tilted around me, and I had the distinct need to void my stomach. However, another slap and a scream tempered my will and helped me keep my lunch down. Groggily, I pulled myself up to the counter, getting myself up to my knees as the world pitched around me. I quietly raised myself up and peeked over the counter, spotting the source of those voices. There were two of them, both in black ski masks. One held a knife loosely in his hand, while the other had a gun trained on the cashier. Both of them looked pretty burly, with the knife wielder slightly taller then the gunman. Both had their backs turned towards me, and in the gap between the two of them I could spot the luckless cashier, desperately raising her hands in a placating gesture. “My boss has it! He comes by every night to help lock up! I swear!” she cried at them as an angry red welt started to appear on the side of her face. Usually, this would probably be the moment in the story when the blood started to pound in my ears, and I would rush over and tackle the two thieves with nothing but my bare hands. That's not me. I'm not a hero. Sure I've played every video game under the sun, seen every action flick, know ever superhuman by name, power and reputation(in that order), but I had no illusions as to who I was. I was a wimpy physics geek who spent more time at my studies then at the gym. At that moment, as my blood chilled, I knew that these two men were probably going to kill both of us. However, just because I was afraid didn't mean I was a coward. It just meant that I didn't charge in blindly. Carefully, I crawled to the aisle, looking for anything to use as a weapon. My relief was palpable as I spotted a display for tire irons. Not wasting a moment, I quietly removed one of the heavy black tools and gripped it by the handle. It still had a bit of cardboard strapped around its head, but that wouldn't slow me down in the slightest. I quietly crawled back to the sound of the two men beating the poor girl, taking time to put on my bike helmet as I passed the counter. It wouldn't do anything against the gun, but if things went to plan, I wouldn't need to worry about that. “Why do you keep lying to me? Do you want me to shoot you?” the gunman asked, his voice rising in volume considerably. As silent as a ghost, I got up from my prone position right behind the monster with the gun. In one smooth motion I grabbed his gun arm with my free hand, yanking it upwards and towards me, spinning him around. The gun went off, but as planned the shot when wide, missing the cashier by a full three feet. She screamed, but I barely even noticed as the adrenaline started to pour into my brain. I then let him have it in the face with the tire iron. Instantly, the beast disguised as a human being dropped like a pole-axed cow. I heard a crack as his head hit the tile below, and I could have sworn that I had seen blood. I didn't slow down in the slightest, however, as I readied my improvised weapon for another strike. The other thief quickly turned towards me, knife in hand, and rage on his face. He was too slow, however, as my weapon lashed out and caught the thief on the arm, right at the elbow. I heard a sick snapping sound as the weapon connected, and he was down, screaming and clutching his ruined limb. I then pulled the cashier away from him, pushing her towards the back room as soon as she was on her feet. “Go! Call the cops! I got this!” I shouted. She ran around the corner at the exact moment that the gun went off again. Pain lanced through my chest, and I felt the grip on my weapon loosen a bit. However, even through the pain, I did not let go of the strangely reassuring steel in my hand. Slowly, I turned my head back towards the prone thief, blood pumping in my ears as I regarded him. In his still working hand I could see his partner's gun, smoke rising from the barrel while a snarl graced his face. I looked down, my helmeted head stopping to consider the gaping hole in my chest; I was distantly aware of the pain, but for some reason it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I then raised my head and the tire iron and, with deliberate slowness, took a single step in his direction. His snarl quickly became a look of fear as he unloaded into me. Four more times the revolver in his hands barked, and at this close of a range I knew that he hadn't missed a single shot. But even as I felt the bullets tear through my being, some force kept me on my feet, pushed me onwards as his eyes grew progressively larger. With a frightened shout, he then threw the gun at me and ran. In his haste, though, he ran straight through the sliding glass door of the convenience store, shattering it into a million pieces as he made his escape. He had missed when he had thrown the weapon, but that didn't really matter to me at that point. With a metallic clang, my new steel friend slipped from my grasp, my fingers suddenly unable to work right. As I fell heavily to my knees, I was dimly aware of the screaming coming from outside the store, and I briefly wondered if Stacy would still kill me for missing our date. “...Probably not,” I said, my voice sounding harsh in my ears. I was faintly aware that those were terrible last words, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was just too tired. There was a falling sensation, followed closely by the sound of someone nearby calling my name. Darkness soon took me. * * * The first thing I noticed was the sound of rustling paper. It was oddly comforting, bringing with it the memories of my friends and family gathered around a table, rolling dice, and laughing at the results. The next thing I noticed was the soothing smell of mint tea, its calming presence doing wonders on my scattered mind. Since I seemed to still have a nose and ears, I attempted to open my eyes, to see if they would follow suit. They did, but everything was fuzzy at first. My sight slowly started to clear, though, revealing that I somehow had ended up in my parent's dinning room. The table in front of me was loaded with papers, dice, and pencils, while at the center I could see a map of some kind with various figurines placed all over it. The map wasn't one I recognized, seeing as how its land masses were all completely different from earth's. On top of that, the language that the notes were written in was complete gibberish to me, further reinforcing the sense of wrongness I was feeling. However, as off as all of that was, the thing that really set off the alarms in my head were the figurines on the map. They weren't that different from what I might use in one of my games, except there seemed to be a large number of equines represented there alongside the normal mix of minotaurs, goblins, griffons, and dragons. What drew my attention to them, however, was the fact that all the figures were moving on there own, marching slowly across the huge world that was set before them. “I was wondering when you would be joining me,” a gentle voice said from the head of the table. I quickly turned towards the sound, almost giving myself whiplash as I did so. There, sitting at the head of the table, was a woman of exquisite beauty. She had deep, sea green eyes, beautiful flowing red hair, and unearthly, perfect skin. She wore a green blouse, though anything else about her was hidden by the Game Master's screen placed between us. Her voice was like the chiming of a bell, and her smile was as radiant as the sun itself. Everything about her screamed perfection. She also made me very, very nervous for some reason. “Who are you?” I asked, finally finding my voice. “A friend, possibly your best friend at this moment,” she said, her smile taking on a slightly predatory look to it. Instantly, alarm bells started to go off in my head, and I could hear the voice of the esteemed Admiral Ackbar scream “It's a trap!” somewhere in the back of my brain. “Okay, I think I know what's going on here. I was dying, right? That means that all of this,” I said, gesturing wildly with one arm. “Is one of two things. One: It's a coma, and I'm hallucinating. Unlikely, seeing as how all my dreams are usually filled with flying monkeys.” She didn't even bat an eye at that, preferring to let me work this out for myself, apparently. “Two: I'm dead, you're the devil, and you've come to bargain for my immortal soul. You've put me in a facsimile my parent's house in an attempt to make me feel safe, all in the hopes that it will win me over by making me think you're not too bad. Well guess what, lady? If you're the second option, I think I'll take my chances with the big man upstairs. I might be dead, but I won't be eternally screwed,” I said as I got to my feet. She merely smiled at that, apparently unfazed at my accusation. “Though I hardly think you'll believe me, I want to tell you right now that neither of those options are the truth. The devil wouldn't want to come anywhere near you after such a heroic display, and as you said yourself, there aren't enough flying monkeys here to make this a dream,” she said as she brushed off an invisible speck from her blouse. “However, I do have a deal for you, but not nearly at such a high cost as your soul.” “...And there it is. That's how he gets you. 'Sign right here, its only fifty seconds in hell for ten million dollars.' What you don't notice, however, is the microscopically tiny writing stating that if you actually spent any of the money, you're now a member of devils inc. Trust me, I know this tactic inside and out because I've used it on my players before. Well guess what honey, I ain't that easy to fool!” I said a bit indignantly as I turned to leave. However, as I made my way into my parent's living room, there she was, sitting in the rocking chair that my mother loved so much. Her legs were crossed, and I could see that she wore blue jeans and sandals on them. “Will you at least listen to my proposition? If you do not find it to your liking, you may leave, no strings attached, and you can go right back to where you were. I promise you, though, that you will enjoy what I have in mind.” That made me hesitate a little. Was there really any harm in just listening to what she said? Besides, I was dead anyway, so it wasn't like I had anything else to do... “...Well, I suppose,” I said after what seemed like an eternity of thought. Instantly, everything around us changed, and we were right back where we started, sitting at the dining room table. She smiled as she looked at me over the Game Master's screen, her expression overjoyed as she shuffled through her notes. “I need a champion, someone who is brave, yet intelligent. Someone who can do the greatest good if in the right place at the right time, or the wrong place at the wrong time. If you do this for me, I promise you will go home, safe and sound.” I thought about this for a second, then decided to address the elephant in the room first. “Assuming this isn't a con, or some sort of near-death hallucination, why don't you just do whatever it is yourself? You're obviously very powerful, if the teleportation, illusions, and moving figurines are any indication of that sort of thing, so why get me to do it for you? I mean, I'm kind of almost dead, if not dead already. Even if you were to heal me first, whatever help I can give is minimal at best, on account of me being just human.” She kept smiling as she gestured towards the map. “You would be correct. I have agreed to play by certain rules, however, to keep others from doing the exact same thing. Rest assured, if I could do as you said, I would,” she then held up her hand, a single figurine that looked exactly like me resting on her open palm. “As for you being human, you'd be surprised what a single person can do when dropped in the right place at the wrong time.” I just folded my arms at that. I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it. “So, this is some sort of inter-dimensional, divine chess game? And you expect me to play with five gaping holes in my chest,” I said flatly She just giggled at that. “If you agree to become my champion, your wounds will become nothing but a distant memory. On top of that, I do not intend to send you anywhere without a little... evening of the odds,” she said, her grin becoming very mischievous. “Well, just who are you, then?” I asked belligerently. “I cannot say. I am the only one who will come when not called upon. I leave when my name is spoken, and most ask for my help without knowing that they have done so." This sounded familiar to me for some reason, though I couldn't quite place why. I decided to shrug it off, though, and continue. “Well, what precisely do you intend for me to do? Also, if I chose to accept, where am I going?” “Now, if I were to tell you that, wouldn't it spoil the surprise?" she asked innocently. I just gave her a sullen frown, which seemed to get her to elaborate. "...I find that my best pieces are those that have no clue what they are doing. They usually perform better when unaware of the stakes, or even of their mission. I would have preferred that you also be unaware of my involvement, or your role as a playing piece, but the rules specifically state that I couldn't just drop you on the board without at least a little knowledge.” “You expect me to go to some strange land, not knowing where I'm going, what I'll be doing, or why I'm even there?” I asked, a single eyebrow raised. “Why does that sound like a terrible idea?” She just wiggled a finger at me, her eyebrow raised in a conspiratorial fashion. “By not telling you what you are doing, I have given you a great gift, perhaps the greatest gift I can possibly give in a contest such as this.” “And what is that?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. “Impartiality. I give you the gift of an outside observer, one who can act without fear of sides or allegiances,” she answered, holding out the figurine for me to take. I just looked at it, then looked back up at her. “So let me get this straight. You're going to put me somewhere without any sort of briefing, to perform some sort of task that I won't even know about, all while others in similar positions try to stop me, and you think this is a strength?” I asked incredulously. "This 'evening of the odds' crap you spoke of earlier had better be something really spectacular to make me even consider your deal.” She hummed a little before continuing. “Indeed it is. I intend to send you in a form that will be both familiar, and at the same time alien. You will have great power, but must learn to wield it against the odds stacked against you,” she said, closing her hand, then opening it again. The figurine she held was gone, and in its place sat a small figurine of a question mark. I knew deep down that none of this really made any sense, and flew in the face of what I thought I knew was possible. But for some reason I found myself believing her. “Well, what will this 'form' be?” I asked, not really caring for how she danced around the issue. “So help me, if you send me... wherever it is, as a freaking Care Bear, I'm gonna-” “I would never send you to your destination as something so... defenseless. Instead, I intend to send you in a far more... fitting form from your past. You will recognize it as soon as you see it, as it is the first form you ever pretended to be.” At this, my mind immediately jumped to the thought of my first pyromancer, causing me to grin like a loon. He was pretty dang impressive. Now I don't feel half as scared or worried about not knowing anything beforehand. If anything tries to gank me, I'll just burn them to a crisp. As this and other thoughts coursed through my brain, another popped up, causing my smile to disappear. “As tempting as that all is, what sort of assurance do I have that you aren't just going to screw me over as soon as I say 'yes' to anything?” I asked her. She just shook her head at that, though her smile was just as mischievous as mine was. “I cannot give you any such assurances, as anything I say can very well be a lie. You must decide for yourself whether or not I am telling the truth,” she said, tilting her head to one side. “However, before you make a decision, remember this: If you choose not to take my deal, you will die. Not from my hand, but from the hand of the thief that shot you.” As soon as she said this, I felt five stinging pains in my chest. I quickly looked down to see five gaping holes where there should have been none. I wasn't bleeding anymore, but I knew that that could change at a moments notice. At that precise moment, I knew with a certainty that this wasn't some kind of near-death hallucination. This was real. “Well? Do you agree to my proposal? Or will you 'take your chances with the Big Man upstairs?'” she asked, bringing my attention back to her. I swallowed at that, fear coursing through my brain. I had been so cocky and sure of myself earlier, but now? When I could actually see and feel my wounds? Now all I felt was the grip of my own mortality around my throat. “...Is there anything else you can tell me before I accept?” I asked, my voice a bit shakier than I would care to admit. “There is not. You must forge your own path, and undertake this quest as best as you see fit. Do not worry about where to go or what to do, as those will become apparent as you progress,” she said gently. “...And you promise that once this 'task' is finished, I'll get to go home, safe and sound?” I asked, needing some form of reassurance. She just nodded at this, her smile becoming more predatory. This is a really bad idea, I thought with a sigh. What came out of my mouth, however, was: “Fine, we'll do it your way” as I reached for the figurine in her hand. The instant my finger made contact with the statuette, there was a bright flash of light, a feeling like I was being pulled through molasses, followed closely by darkness. * * * “Um... sir? Or ma'am, I'm not really sure at this point...” An unsure, scared, female voice said somewhere above me. “Uhgg...” I grunted intelligently, reaching up to grip my head. However, as I cradled my aching skull, something about that action didn't quite feel right. My skin felt far too leathery, for starters. On top of that, I also seemed to be missing my hair. As I pondered this, I felt my tail twitch in agitation, freaking me the heck out of my mind. “What on earth?” I shouted, nearly jumping out of my skin as I gazed down at the long, lizard-like tail that extended from my rump. I took my hands off of my head and looked at them, noting with some alarm that my human hands had been replaced with four fingered, opposable, lizard-like claws. “Please, sir, you have to be quiet!” I heard the voice from earlier say. “If they find us here, they'll kill us for sure!” I looked up from my prone position at that, only to see something that I didn't think I would ever see in my entire life. Standing in front of me was a small, pony-like creature. It was different from the ponies I was used to, though. This one had a much larger head, an incredibly expressive, human-like face, as well as much larger than normal purple eyes. Its mane and tail were purple with lavender highlights, and its coat was a light pink color. On its flank I could see a trio of diamonds, and on its face I could see a look of intense fear. However, that was not what caught my eye the most about this creature. No, what really caught my eye was the three inch long, spiral horn that grew out of the center of its forehead. We both appeared to be inside a restroom of some sort, which quickly made me want to get to my feet, if only to stop laying down on the disgusting tile floor. I unsteadily got up as I marveled at the other occupant of the restroom. “What... what's going on here?” I asked. As I spoke, I noticed that I pronounced my S's with far more emphasis than I normally would, for some reason. I also noticed that I seemed to tower above the unicorn. I didn't have any means to measure it, but if I had to guess, I would have put the small pony somewhere at four and a half feet tall. It just looked up at me, fear in its eyes as it took in just how large I was. “I... I came into the bathroom to hide,” she said, her mouth agape as she stared at me. “What are we hiding from?” I asked as I stumbled a bit, barely catching myself with a nearby sink. “Where are you, little piggy? I know I heard something over here, and it 'taint no fun if all you do is hide...” a voice outside the bathroom said, almost as if in answer to my question. “Quick, get into the stall!” I whispered in alarm. As I held the door open for her, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. I was tall, standing somewhere around six feet, though my form seemed to prefer a more hunched over posture now, as opposed to a human's normal, straight-backed one. My head had a distinctly lizard-like appearance to it, if the muzzle, slitted blue eyes, and scaley green skin were any indication of that sort of thing. On my body I wore a brown tunic with green highlights, as well as brown leggings that matched splendidly. Yes, a tunic and leggings, just like from medieval Europe. I wasn't wearing any shoes, though that wasn't too surprising, seeing as how my new, lizard-like feet probably wouldn't fit in a pair of Nike's anytime soon. As my eyes traveled over myself, I couldn't help but notice the arming sword and dagger sheathed at my waist, nor could I ignore the spear that hung from a strap on my shoulder. As I stared at my form, I was suddenly struck by the weirdest recognition I had ever felt. I knew that face, I had even drawn it a couple of times. When I was eight. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” I whispered in exasperation. “Seriously? You could have picked anyone else, and you went with the weak piece of crap I made up when I was eight?” “...What?” the pony asked in confusion. My only answer was to slam the door in her face, shrug the spear off my shoulder, and turn to face whatever horrors were about to burst into the bathroom, weapon in hand. “I knew she would screw me over!” I said to myself. If I was to be honest, though, I was more angry at myself for believing her than anything else.