Veritatis et Veniae

by rattythepuppet

Second Chances

Chapter 1: A Second Chance.

It was a pitch black Friday night, the kind that most people would rather not walk in. Well, except for the one guy that was actually out there. It honestly didn’t bother him; he had great night-vision. Just a little skill he picked up earlier in life. “I really don’t want to go ‘clubbing’ tonight. I’m all for music, but there’s just too many drunk assholes ready for a fight...” He contemplated out loud. He hadn’t liked fighting all that much; it hadn’t always been that way, he used to love a good fight. But as time passed, he soon realized the futility of it all. He just somberly trudged down the dark city street. He just wanted to get home and relax. In fact, maybe he’d even-

“Hey there...that’s a nice bag, mind if I take a look inside?” said a raspy voice, probably that of a very VERY avid smoker. The midnight stroller turned around to see a scrappy looking man, probably around his mid-20’s. Beside him stood two more men, almost identical to him in terms of general features. He did notice that the one on the left had a large scar on his chin.

“Hey BUDDY...I’m talkin’ to ya,” responded the “leader” to the silence. It then hit him. He was being mugged. A confident grin crept onto his face, causing the leader to contort his in a slightly worried expression that disappeared as soon as it came. He may not have liked fighting, but he sure as hell loved putting douche bags like these guys in their place.

“Well, sure you can...” He snidely replied. The leader lunged forward, expecting to grab the satchel, but instead had his head brought down hard onto a bony knee. He fell back, blood gushing from his nose.

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, is it?” He ordered his men to restrain his assaulter, each grabbing an arm.

“Shit.” was the only word he could muster before the leader brandished what looked like an old Vietnam survival knife. “Oh, come on! Who the hell carries around a big ass knife like that? Are you TRYING to get arrested? I mean seriously, ‘Yeah officer, the guy who mugged me had a big freakin’ knife in his coat! Oh yeah, he’s hangin’ around with tweedle-scarface and tweedle-dumbass here,” that earned him a knee in the stomach. “My turn,” He whispered under his breath, tripping the guy to his left, stomping him in the stomach while simultaneously giving scarface a nice left hook to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, the kid can fight! You’re a scrappy little spit-fuck, aren’t ya’? Takin’ out both my guys, leavin’ me all to yourself. In fact, I’d say you even wanna-” He was cut off by a palm pushing up his nose cartilage.

“Sucks to be interrupted, don’t it?” commented the “helpless victim.”

“You seem to like going for the nose...hehe...” He stood up, wiping his bloody nose for the second time.

“I’ve learned a lot in my 20 years, and one of those things is that it hurts like a bitch when you get hit in the nose.” He was then startled by a loud screech, followed by shock from the ensuing knife in his stomach. As he dropped to the ground he saw the face of the leader gradually drain itself of blood. He looked pale as a ghost, his actions finally sinking in; he knew what he had done was wrong. It all went to hell! He didn’t think he’d actually stab someone...

“C’mon guys! We gotta get the fuck outta here!” He screamed in a panic forcing the two men up, hurrying away, not even bothering to retrieve his knife. Through the bleeding man’s blurry vision, he watched the 3 entities run off. He was on the verge of blacking out when a car pulled up beside him, it’s headlights glaring; he then saw a very dark figure step out of the vehicle. He felt strong arms pick him up and place him in the car.

“God damn...I...hate...being...stabbed...” It never got any better. He blacked out for a short while until he felt the car screech to a stop. He yet again felt the arms take him in their embrace, taking caution against his wound. “Where...where are you...taking me?...”

It wasn’t until they clambered into a decrepit old laboratory that the mysterious stranger spoke. “Your time here is over. You must move on to a new plane. You, my friend, are needed.” Before he could respond, he was awe-struck by the magnificent machine powering up before him.

“What is...that?...” He painfully questioned, surprised he even had the strength to say it. “Why...the hell...are you...just leaving me...like this......do something...” But the stranger did nothing. He only continued to fiddle with the strange contraption before him; and then he felt it...the onset of death. His vision was darkening, unlike that of an oncoming blackout. He could hear his heart beat slowing. This was it. All he felt was the violent mixture of pain, fear, and agony.

“It’s time.” The stranger preceded to take his hand, and hurtle him towards the machine. He immediately noticed that when the stranger took his hand, he felt a sudden burst of adrenaline. Then he noticed that he was flying towards the machine. The dangerously electrified machine. But instead of feeling shocked, he felt at peace.

“No...no...no...I can’t be dead!” It broke his heart. He started thinking of all the things he’d never be able to do. “Ouch...nope, still alive.” He concluded, as observed by the pain he was feeling from his clotting orifice. “Okay...I’m not in Heaven...”

“Where am I then?”