Failure, Eternally Retold, Part One: The Human Element

by Kiernan

Chapter the Second: Up in Smoke

Nikolas stayed an extra four hours after his shift ended. Not that he minded the extra time; he very much enjoyed his job. Either way, he had to wait for Jim to finish his shift. As Jim was the manager for their kitchen, he had longer shifts than most of the other employees. When he was done, the two piled into Jim's car, a beat-up old sedan. The backseat was filled with junk, most notably the muffler that had fallen off the car a month prior. The trip to Nikolas's burned out apartment was very loud, but they didn't have a lot of choice in that matter. They picked up his safe and returned to Jim's place.

Despite the extra income, Jim was still living in his dad's basement. It was well-furnished, with carpeted walls and a chandelier. It was clear where all of his money was going as soon as Nikolas descended the stairs. A large television was bolted to one of the walls, with wires shooting out in every direction to the speakers in every corner. A large futon with doubled up mattresses sat in the center of the room. A small bathroom could be found just next to the stairs.

"It's not the greatest setup in the world," chuckled Jim. "But it's mine. I kind of miss having natural light, but at least it's cheap. I'm sure I have a bedroll around here somewhere."

"It's fine, Jim. Beats my place right now by a wide margin. Even on its best day, this place is leaps and bounds ahead of my old place."

"Glad you like it. Breakfast is at eleven, dinner's at two."

Dinner that morning was a biscuit and gravy casserole. Devouring it as if it were his last meal, Nikolas realized he hadn't eaten since he had woken up. Thanking Jim's father for the meal, he retired to the basement, finding the bedroll and laying it out. He lay down and closed his eyes, anticipating some much-needed rest.

Rest did not come to Nikolas, however. Instead, just as he was nodding off, he heard a loud crash from upstairs. He stood up and cautiously approached the stairs, only to duck out of the way as Jim's body came tumbling down the steps. Rushing over to him, Nik checked his pulse. He was alive, but the fall had knocked him unconscious. He was about to call out to Jim's father, when he spied a cloaked silhouette at the top of the stairs. The figure had a long blade in one of its hands, and it slowly began its trek down the stairs.

Not wanting any more harm to come to his boss, Nik tossed Jim over his shoulder. Not an easy task, when considering Nik's poor arm strength and Jim's substantial weight. He rushed into the small bathroom, locking the door behind him. He had trapped them, certainly, but it could be argued that they were already trapped, as the stairs had been the only exit to the basement. He hadn't even picked up his phone before coming in; it was still plugged into the wall outlet near the couch.

There was a loud banging against the door. Nik knew it was the cloaked figure trying to enter. He had to formulate a plan. By the time the sword had penetrated the first wooden panel, Nik knew that there was no good plan. He was going up against an armed assailant, and his hands were empty. The best he could come up with would be to ram the bastard with a shower curtain rod, but Jim didn't have one. His bathtub had a sliding glass door. Nik couldn't ram with that.

The door splintered as it split in half. Without a second thought, Nik put his head down and slammed his skull into the figure's gut, hopefully knocking the wind out of him. Nik didn't have time to look at the results, as he had to rush to the phone to call the police. However, the intruder had already broken the devices in anticipation of this, and Nik was left without a means of calling for help.

He decided to just run away. He felt guilty about leaving Jim behind, but it couldn't be helped at this point. He couldn't carry him up the stairs, let alone into the neighbor's house. Nik rushed to the foot of the stairs, only to find that his path was blocked by a second cloaked figure, cleaning his blade with what must have been a white cloth a moment ago.

Nik was backed into a corner, both figuratively and literally, as the two cloaked figures slowly approached him. Now that he wasn't rushing in the opposite direction, Nik could see that their cloaks were not completely black. On their chests was a red insignia depicting a red claw wrapping around a skull.

The second figure placed the tip of his blade against Nik's sternum. "Any final words, Nikolas?"

Nik swallowed hard. "How do you know my name?"

"We'd be pretty poor assassins if we didn't know our target," chuckled the first. "A fine choice of last words, though. We'll make sure it's engraved on your tombstone."

The assassins raised their blades, and Nikolas closed his eyes. He didn't want to die, and he certainly didn't want to see it happen. Just as he had resigned himself to a painful death, however, the floor collapsed beneath him. He opened his eyes just in time to see the world fall away into a white void. As he turned around, he found that there was a second point in the white void, and he was approaching it fast. As the new location came to life around him, he landed on his back in a cobbled alleyway. He looked around, taking in what information he could.

The ground he was lying on was cobblestone, as mentioned before. To his left was a brick building, two stories tall. To his right was a plaster and thatch house. Filling the alleyway were trash cans, a large dumpster and a bound stack of corrugated cardboard. At either end of the alley was a paved street.

Nikolas slowly stood up and hobbled over to one end of the alleyway, looking out into the street. Landing on his back had knocked the wind out of him, so he couldn't move with any respectable amount of haste. He looked up and down the street, finding it to be mostly empty. Such was the norm for nighttime. A few street lamps flickered here and there, but Nik could not quite make out who was walking down the street. Not that he would be able to, anyway, as he had no idea where he was. He had traveled back in time, for all he knew.

He laid out the cardboard between the dumpster and the trash cans. He would be sleeping on the corrugated material because it was the best option. He had no phone, no wallet, no money, and no idea where he was. His best chance right now would be to wait until morning and beg for help from anyone who would listen. In the meantime, he needed to sleep before he went into cardiac arrest.