Chapter 7: CHAPTER 0 – PART VII

The beastgirl is frozen in place, almost completely monochrome, eyes fixed dead ahead.

Her nails dig into the wall, cutting slight grooves.

Her legs begin to tremor.

She would probably jump out of her skin if I tried to get her attention right now, and that would give us away to the orc. I rub my leg to ease it a little more and slowly roll onto my front, just far enough to edge an eye to the corner of the gap, which has somehow become darker than before.

I look up...

The orc's face is pressed between the two walls, his head big enough to actually wedge in place.

He's leering aggressively, mockingly at the beastgirl. He starts to say something, his voice like a quarry, gravelly and bellowing. Punctuating the stone walls with echoing blasting charges pouring from his lips. It almost looks like he's rabid. Spit flecks mottle the surfaces around him. Veritable globules of his rage. I can't quite catch or work out a single sound he's making. Not a word or syllable makes sense.

He breaks mid sentence and the silence is more deafening than his voice concentrated down the gap had been. Worse than my pulse in my ears or the nights alone in the summer house. His teeth gritted together, lips pulled back, slowly angle downward.

My blood runs cold.

The sweat on my exposed back might as well be leeches sucking the heat from my body directly.

Little conductors drawing out every degree possible, trying to put me into cryo-stasis. As if pretending to be a corpse already is the only way out of this. I guess I finally know what prey feels like under the gaze of an apex predator, like any animal before man. The moment the orc's eyes reach me, it feels like I have been pierced with an icicle. Shot through the top of my skull, right through my lizard brain, and out through the base my spinal column.

It's sharp and electric and chilling.

His expression shifts slowly, second by terrible second.

What was a face of fury, tinged with something lecherous directed at the beastgirl beside me, is now a near indistinguishable mess of disgust, contempt, confusion, and yet more rage aimed squarely at myself. The orc lets the tension in his jaw release, his lips locking tight over his teeth. Only a sneer left at the edge of his mouth, where a tired sigh had escaped, marks any lingering expression. His once wide and blazing eyes droop with apparent exhaustion.

He turns away from the gap and speaks, grunts, a single word...

The beastgirl is instantly thrown into panic.

Yowling, baying, screeching at the back of the orc as he walks away... and down the slope that leads to our sanctuary.

I glance to and fro, trying to follow the trajectory of her fear and anxiety.

Then what she had sensed comes into view.

A gangly looking beastman is coming up the alleyway towards us. He looks kind of like to a kobold or a gnoll, feral and wiry. Completely unfazed by the steep climb, but making slow progress, seemingly hampered by something out of view, the ridge still obscuring his lower half...

A GOBLIN!!!

There's a goblin holding the beastman's hand, gibbering to itself, pulling on him, trying to wrench away.

It's a fat, squat little thing. Honestly looks more like a large toad than a small orc-ish creature, but it's obvious what it's meant to be. It almost has a sliminess about it, adding to the toady appearance, but it could possibly be a horrendous amount of perspiration due to how spherical it is. It is sweltering under the summer sun, and that part of the hill seems particularly steep.

Where did they come from though?

How can they just be walking around in broad daylight?

What the hell is happening right now?!.

The beastgirl's attention is still split between the receding orc and the two new creatures before us. Her yells becoming more and more frantic. Her voice already horse. She's almost hysterical by the time the lean, lanky beastman, goblin blob still in tow, reaches the top of the slope. She's on the verge of tears. Gulping back sobs as she lets out the occasional yelp.

The goblin notices the beastgirl and skitters over, skirting around my prone form. Ultimately, hiding behind her leg. It's agitated jabbering seemingly coddled into a disgruntled mumble by her presence.

She starts hiccuping and blubbering all at once, bending down to hug the goblin.

WHY THE HELL IS SHE TOUCHNING THAT GROSS LITTLE THING?!.

I roll onto my back again and start pushing myself up the wall. I need to be ready to run and get out of this situation as fast as possible. I don't want to get ganked by some fantasy creatures in a moutain village and not even be able to phone my parents for help, or y'know, emergency services. I have no clue what is going on, and do not want to stay to findout... wait, that orc seemed pretty done with things when he spotted me. He obviously sent these two round this way to flank us. If he's on his way here, knowing we're already cornered, what the hell happens when he arrive?

The beastgirl's panic seems to be contagious and I start spiralling myself. I look to her then the goblin, who's now glaring at me with a low growl, and back again. The beastman, alert, silently guarding the mouth of the alley.

Closing my eyes to all the aches and pains I've accumulated, I slide to my feet by using the wall, the rough hewn stone scaping me through my clothes.

The punch I half expected to receive from the beastgirl earlier, when I thought she might try to ambush me after leading me somewhere unfamiliar, finally lands on the right side of my face.

The beastman, upon seeing me stand, sprang to action. Closing the gap between us in a blink. I stumble back, but do not fall over. He's not as strong as the orc, but god is he fast. The beastgirl screams out, but is muted almost immediately by the goblin. It went from cuddling and cooing with her to violence in a heartbeat, as if the actions of its comrade were a signal. One hand pulling her hair, the other scrabbling to cover her mouth, but being bitten and clawed off repeatedly.

Before I can even ready myself, the beastman is already upon me.

A couple more strikes and I'm cowering on the floor, lip split and swollen, snot bubbling out my nose with every whimper.

I can hear the "PERFECT!" ringing loud in my head. My internal monologue mocking me for being so easily knocked about.

I haven't been bullied in years, not since middle school. In high school I managed to turn things around by going somewhere different to everyone else. I made new friends, we played video games, kept to ourselves, and weren't even worth picking on.

God I hate this...

The beastman lets out a withering kick that I thankfully manage to put my upper arm in the way of, otherwise I think I would have actually lost my jaw. It almost makes the entire limb numb, forcing my shoulder and elbow to go limp in tandem. It's miserable taking a beating like this, and tiring. My head is already foggy from the hits it's taken, and the pain left behind isn't helping me come back to my senses any quicker.

The barking back and forth between the three creatures is both cacophonous and distant. Muffled by the beating's lingering effects.

What I can gather is that the goblin, for its size, is doing pretty well at keeping the beastgirl restrained. Goading on the beastman to keep attacking, and mocking me in turn. The beastgirl is crying and wriggling and openly distraught, but no one seems to care. The beastman is panting from the exertion of pummelling someone, but still seems vigorous enough to keep going longer than I could feasibly defend myself for.

I decide to play dead.

It's pathetic and cowardly, I know that to the marrow of my bones... but honestly I don't think I'll survive if this keeps up.

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How am I going to explain these injuries to my parents?

I was out walking through town, looking for you guys, when I got jumped by some fantasy creatures.

They'll think I'm mad like the girl in the Sayama Incident.

I let my vision drift, hopefully it makes my eyes look glazed enough, and wobble on the spot. I reach my nearly numb arm out, off to the side of the beastman, like I can't even work out where he is to fend him away any more. It wavers in space before dropping back to my side, limp and lifeless. Then, I flop backwards onto my leg, sitting in the open, rather than crouching defensively. Finally, to finish off my performance, I force my body to sag completely, before dropping onto my side, and giving out a strained breath along with some blood foamed spittle.

The three of them go quiet.

I breath as slowly and lightly as possible; my eyes unfocused, staring into middle distance across the dirt.

I can just about make out the blank expression of the beastgirl in my peripheral vision as she is finally unhanded.

It sounds like the goblin is chittering again at the beastman, who scoffs as he turns to leave, then kicks a clod of muck into my face as he starts walking away.

It takes all my resolve to hold back from spluttering, just letting the mud and dust cling to my face, irritating my eyes and nose.

The beastgirl continues staring at me. I can't work out if it's disbelief or disappointment or something else contorting her features, but she's clearly upset. Like she's given up hope after seeing what happens to those that try to help her, like it was inevitable that this would happen, like it has happened before.

The goblin merrily bounces about, waving its hands up at the beastman, pointing and laughing at both myself and the beastgirl. Its horrible little croaky, squeaky voice bubbling like an allergic reaction in my ears.

The beastman pauses for a second as he reaches the other two. He grunts a response or command or something to the goblin, then grabs the beastgirl by the hair and starts dragging her along the road. She limply complies for a moment, resigned to the act, before scratching at his hand in the hopes he lets go. Instead, he tightens his grip on her, stepping back over her body, slams her head into the ground, straddles her, and starts slapping her face over and over, growling all the while. The goblin, mid step, jolts, falls to its behind, and cowers on the spot, whimpering at the sight of the attack. It showed no fear when I was beaten, but the swiftness and brutality of the assault on the beastgirl is shocking.

Instead of struggling like when she was dragged or restrained, the beastgirl seems to be taking the blows in silent resignation. Not even letting slip a whine or sharp exhalation at the sting of each slap.

After a dozen or so blows, the beastman stands, pulling his victim up by the scruff of the neck, and marches her down the hill. Barking over his shoulder only once to the goblin, just as he begins to be obscured by the ridge. The goblin bounds to its feet and woddles after them. All three remaining silent as they descend out of my view.

I stay motionless on the floor for a while.

God I'm pathetic.

I couldn't do a thing.

Eventually, I sit up.

I fold up a corner of my top and use the cleanish inside to wipe down my face, clear the muck from my eyes, and dab at the cut in my lip.

I hawk the cloying mess of thickened saliva and partially congealed blood out of my mouth. Most of it travels a fair distance because of its heft, but due to the viscosity a string streams out behind, snaps, and slaps back over my chin and clothes.

"Ugh...I am so done with this holiday..."

Slowly staggering to my feet, dusting off my limbs as I go, I struggle to work out what to do now.

"They'll never believe me," I sigh to myself and start walking back down towards the main road.

After everything that has happened, I realise I have no idea what time it is. I pull my phone out and thank the machine spirits that it still has some battery, and wasn't dashed to pieces in the fray. Still no signal though, even near the top of the mountain. Thankfully, it's only early afternoon, not long after lunchtime. I slip it back in my pocket, hoping that it holds enough charge for me to find my parents. I remember why I came this far back through the town and stop to get my bearings before descending any further.

That's when I finally notice.

Why there's no phone signal.

Why there are no cars.

Why an orc could just walk through the middle of town.

Why I've only met fantasy creatures and no other people.

Why my parents are nowhere to be found.

There are no overhead electricity lines, no painted road markings, no street-lights, no neon business signs, no vending machines, no corrugated metal sheds, no chain-link fences, no empty cans or plastic bottles or food wrappers on the side of the road...

The buildings are all wood and stone, some small single panes of glass for windows. The only smells are of the smoke from chimneys, or manure from the fields below, or the faint scent of the forest nearby. There's nothing but the chirp and buzz of insects, the dulled rumble of the river far below, a few farm animal noises, assorted bird songs, the whole range of nature sounds you'd expect to hear in remote rural villages.

However...

None of this is familiar.

Nothing looks modern.

Not a single thing looks like it should be here.

The mirage effect distracted me from that earlier.

The heat, the glare of the sun, my thirst, and hunger, and fear, and anger, and exhaustion... all of it blinded me to the truth.

It's not surprising that there would be orcs and goblins and beastfolk here. They wouldn't have to hide. They wouldn't have to skulk about, sneak into town to scavenge some things, then vanish back into the wilderness. NO WONDER I COULDN'T UNDERSTAND THEM!!!

This isn't my world...

...this isn't Earth.

In this very moment, all the swirling thoughts, spiralling emotions, distorted senses, and disparate memories, feelings, and innocuous pieces of information finally coalesce...

"I've been fucking isekai'd?!."

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