As he ran for his life from four local thugs, Seth wondered where the day had gone horribly wrong. It started well enough, waking up in his tent under the bridge. He needed to get more food, and he heard that a grocery store had donated a month's worth of overstock to the local food bank. That part had gone fine, the weight of the one good strap of his backpack cutting into his shoulder proof of that. He turned down the street, and there had been some thugs who had been all too eager to take his money. As if he had any.
His lungs spasmed, and he coughed as he turned down the nearest alley. The familiar taste of iron filled his mouth. He scanned for his next turn, knowing he couldn't keep running for much longer. After one more turn, he hugged the wall and waited. Only one set of steps was right on his tail. The rest were further back. He listened to the rapidly approaching steps, brass knuckles out and ready. Once the other man was almost on top of him, he leaped out, fist swinging.
His knuckles slammed into the guy's mouth. Bones crunched, and metal clanged against asphalt; the knife the thug was holding. The rest of the thugs were rapidly approaching, so Seth started running before the thug's body hit the ground.
After a minute, Seth stopped. His lungs and legs were on fire. He coughed into his free hand; it came back red and sticky, the same as his knuckles. Thankfully, there was a convenience store nearby with an open bathroom. Even if it was self-defense, explaining this to the police would be a pain. He had already spent a couple of nights in jail after being caught dumpster diving behind the station.
After arriving at the convenience store and locking himself in the bathroom, Seth assessed the damage. Luckily, he didn't get too much blood on his clothes. Most of it landed on his brown faux-leather jacket, which blended in with the other assorted stains. As he washed, he barely recognized the face staring back at him. It had too many lines, and his cheeks were sunken and pale, accented by the dark circles under his eyes. His thick three-day-old stubble was more gray than brown. Seth pulled out a bayonet and started shaving. He left after taming his greasy hair into something akin to a salesman who had gone overboard on the hair gel.
Seth arrived at the library about an hour later. He saw who was sitting behind the counter and grimaced.
"Hi, Seth, how have you been?" she asked, her voice chipper and upbeat, as always.
"Surviving. Is there a small room upstairs I can read in for a few hours?"
"As long as you're not going to sleep in one again."
"That was one time..."
A line was already starting to form, and the elderly woman behind him was starting to grumble. Jane had him sign out a key to one of their rooms. Saying their goodbyes, Seth went and got a few books he wanted to read and went to his private haven.
A couple of hours later, he was reading a book of Lovecraft's collected short stories. A hard fit of coughing slammed into him as he was reading, and largish globs of blood flecked onto the page. Damn cancer was acting up again. He looked around for a librarian, but he was alone. He stood up and grabbed his bag. As long as he found an exit, everything would be fine. Then, the world started spinning. Still choking on blood and stumbling, he grabbed a bookshelf for support. There wasn't a soul around as he stumbled forward.
An eternity later, the spinning stopped, and the coughing died down. His chin felt wet, and a metallic taste filled his mouth. He wiped his chin with his hand. It came back red. Looking around, he had gone deeper into the stacks. And in front of him was a bizarre person stepping through an open door. Seth wasn't sure what was stranger: the ashen skin, the threadbare shirt and pants, bleached white by the sun, or the intricate tattoos that covered his hands. Before Seth could call out, the man darted into the stacks. Still dazed and on edge, Seth felt a desperate urge for fresh air, so he ran through the door. As his foot crunched down onto dry, red cracked dirt, he remembered he was on the third floor of the library. And as that thought fully materialized, he had already stumbled through the door. By the time he turned his head to look behind him, the door was gone.
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Cracked, arid hills extended as far as the eye could see. The sun was high in the sky, and the heat blasted him. What the fuck happened? Seth swallowed a lump in his throat as he looked around. He grabbed his backpack; the familiar weight calmed him. The pain in his lungs, and a growing itchiness underneath his skin, insisted he was still alive.
A loud explosion caused Seth to dive for cover. Thankfully, it sounded closer than it actually was. Yelling came from the same direction. He crept toward the sounds, crouching as low as he could without crawling. His heart beat in every part of his body. Every fiber of his being wanted to run, but he forced himself to take the risk. Seth had no idea where he was, and might not be lucky enough to find anyone else out here before he died of dehydration, exposure, or wild animals. It didn't take him long to find the source, as the two people were in a shallow ravine a couple hundred feet away. Hiding behind a large rock, he inspected the two.
One man was on the ground, clutching at where one of his arms should be, his green robes dyed red, face sweaty and pale. The arm lying next to him was holding a sword. He looked human, except for the five arms and one stump. The other combatant looked like a mannequin made of mercury, holding a shimmering silvery sword that was somehow liquid and solid at the same time. Blood dripped from his sword.
"Look, I got lost for a second. This isn't..." the five-armed man said. Seth heard two sets of words coming from the man. One in a language he didn't understand, and another that he could. It was like he dubbed over himself and turned the volume down on the original track.
"Even if I were to believe you, it wouldn't matter. You were trespassing, and all trespassers must be executed. Truly unfortunate," the mercury mannequin said, their voice high and hollow, with a cruel smile on their face.
"And what right does—" He was interrupted by a sword through his chest. A heartbeat later, he had moved fifty feet away, sword drawn. The fight between the two looked like still frames in a movie, hastily stitched together without thought for continuity. He heard metal on metal, blades slicing through flesh, grunts of effort, and groans of pain. Occasionally, pain would explode in his eyes, as if he were looking at the sun, though the only thing he saw were the still frames of the fight. Reality stretched and twisted dangerously, and the world seemed as if it were about to break.
Reality returned to normal when four pale limbs fell to the ground. The formerly five-armed man scrambled to get a weapon with his last arm, but the mercury man barked out a laugh and cut off his head. He wiped the blood off his blade. Two appendages that looked like translucent silver wings appeared behind him, and he floated up to the sky.
The mercury mannequin floated about thirty feet up, sometimes walking on the air as if it were solid land. Seth flattened himself to the ground when he saw it float-walking over toward him. He could feel its presence alone crushing against him, making breathing a struggle. Regardless, he kept his breathing as shallow and steady as he could, but he swore his heart was beating loud enough to give his position away. Drops of sweat rolled off his face and fell to the ground. He heard the mercury mannequin touch ground a few times, once about ten feet away from where he was hiding. Biting down on his lip was the only thing that kept him from screaming.
The search felt endless, but eventually he felt reality twist, and the crushing presence was no more. It felt like it took an eternity for his trembling to stop. Once he regained some composure, he stepped out to see what was left of the body. He had seen dead bodies before, but none that were so... butchered. The smell of bile and viscera was so thick Seth could taste it. Bracing himself, he searched the body. He immediately grabbed the waterskin, looping the strap around his shoulder. Seth was less sure about what to do with two gold rings and three brown pills that smelled of dirt and sulfur. Eventually, he shoved them into his backpack.
He opened up the waterskin and sniffed. It was odorless. He poured a few drops onto his hand. The liquid felt cool, though he wiped his hands on the ground when he noticed it was glowing green. Ok, going to see if I can find an actual water source before risking this.
Finding nothing else of use, he put the body in a nearby crevice and scanned his surroundings. Every direction looked the same — a dry, lifeless landscape. A warm breeze blew through the wastes, giving some relief from the heat. He rested for a few minutes, then scanned the landscape again. There was a sliver of light on the horizon, and he started walking toward it. The more he walked, the higher the sliver got, until it looked like a sunrise. A sunrise, with another sun already high in the sky.

