James had just returned from his part time job, exhausted from the hours of work he had put into the day. School was hard enough on him as it is, but working under his grandfather, cutting firewood, left the teenager with little time to rest and little time to recover from the physical and mental exertion from his day. It only left him with more stamina over the months, and even allowed him to slim down and buff up from his admittedly large body he had acquired through laziness and lack of exercise. He rubbed his eyes. He had made several deliveries of firewood, each requesting at least two cords of firewood. All of the cutting, loading, and unloading left him with sweat covered clothes that grew crusty as he relaxed at the end of the day. The drive home was uneventful, aside from a few faint pops from gunshots miles away. It was normal life to hear gunshots where he lived. Uncommon for a shootout, and almost rare for a gang war to break out. He lived in the better parts of town, which wasn't saying much for the ghetto, and it left everyone with a short temper and a sense of paranoia. He wasn't concerned about the gunshots. They were soon drowned out by music as he turned on his radio, the volume soft. Soon enough, he was home. His parents both work hard to keep a good source of income up for excess things, like computers, and video games. He felt compelled to help out, and pooled half of his cash to them. Considering that he gets half of what is earned that work day, it is quite the considerable sum when added up. He had received calls from his parents that they were working late today, so he would have to find his own food. Given how tired he was at the moment, he was willing to go without food for the moment. He got out his car, a 2001 Ford Mustang, and walked to the dark home.
Putting the key in the door, he pushed the door open and walked inside. almost immediately, he was assaulted by technology. A flat screen sat on top of a fireplace mantle. A PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 sat underneath the TV, surrounded by video game cases. On top of a coffee table sat two monitors to computers next to large army green massage chairs, both broken due to excessive use in the past, each accessorised with different video game logos and movie characters. His fathers computer was covered with lots of action stars and favorite video game memorabilia , ranging from the Horde Symbol from World of Warcraft to Bruce Lee and Sylvester Stallone. His mother was a counter to his, hers ranging from the Alliance symbol from World of Warcraft to Ed Sheeran logos and album covers. He found it amusing that they both are opposite in every way, but are so attracted to each other. Stepping into the bathroom, he turned the shower on and pulled off the smelly, crusty clothes, before stepping inside. The cold water felt great against his aching muscles. He pulled a bottle of Old Spice from a small cubby in the wall, containing four or five other bottles of body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. He lathered up quickly and washed off, watching the water turn grey and black from the grime that covered him. He let his mind rest, forgetting where he was, what day of the week it was, what time of month and season it was, and his recent troubles for the moment as he started to build a fake world around him.
The water cascaded from above him, the waterfall emptying itself from a river that led up to the mountains. The water was ice cold, the result of the ice breaking off and melting from the mountains above. He was in a secluded cove, his clothes and a few soft towels on the lake he was in. He stretched, his joints popping in response, and let out a satisfied sigh. One of his hands brushed against the smooth rock beneath the waterfall, the stone slippery, but surprisingly warm. A light giggle met his ears, causing him to turn around and sink his body deep into the lake, leaving only his head visible. He looked around, but found nothing. At least, not a first glance. His eyes caught a shadow moving along the dense treeline, and a strange being walked out. They looked female, but had animal like qualities. A pair of wings sat on her back, leathery, bat-like wings folded against her back. Some form of armor covered her body, causing him to cock an eyebrow in her direction. She giggled again and moved from the shadows. He took in her more subtle qualities, such as her pearly white skin, her eyes, which glowed softly in the darkness, were the same as cats, or reptilians. A dark colored blade was strapped to her hips, a shield strapped to her forearm, and a spear stretched across her back, stuck between her wings.
He cocked his eyebrow once more, as if that was a good enough response to her, and she started pulling off her equipment. A belt of throwing knives hit the floor, her holster for her blade following soon after. A strap came undone, and the spear fell. A few strings tied together were pulled apart, and the shield hit the ground. She started to pull off her armor, leaving her standing there with only a thin piece of clothing covering her genetalia. She tensed her legs, and shot towards the water, curling up into as she jumped, and splashed into the cold water. She slowly emerged from the water, saying something that didn’t catch his ear, as if his ears were filled with water. He wanted to ask her what she said, but his body gave a small, devious smile and he dived under the water. He swam closer to the female, taking longer to gaze at her body underneath the water, before emerging before her, not a foot in between them. He realized that he was still in the nude and his cheeks lit up. Another giggle met his ears and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer. He gulped audibly and stared into her eyes. He slowly pushed forward…
BANG-BANG!
He snapped out of his daydream with a startled yelp and looked around. It sounded like a gunshot, and it was close. He placed a hand on his chest, his heart beating heavily against it. He noticed an awkward boner had taken place, and he let the cold water deal with that. Once he was satisfied, he got out of the shower. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off quickly, pulling the towel around his waist, and he stepped out of the bathroom. Red and blue lights flashed outside. He frowned. Was the gunfire right outside? He thought to himself, going to his room to throw some clothes onto him. He stepped out once he pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and a loud knock came from the door. He was feeling concerned as he walked to the door, pulling the door open. Two police officers stood right there, each looking grim. Despite being almost a foot taller than the both of them, he felt like a small child when he saw their expressions.
“Are you James…” He looked at a piece of paper. “Heller?” James nodded, his eyes narrowed at the both of them.
“What seems to be the problem officers?” He asked. “We’re sorry son, but your parents are dead…” The officer on the right said. James looked at him.
“I’m sorry, what?” He said, not sure if he heard correctly. The officer on the left glared at the one on the right.
“I was going to be gentle about it, but unfortunately, my partner seems to have thought that saying it directly was the best way at dealing with this. Your parents are dead son. They were both shot. Eyewitnesses said it was a black van with tinted windows. The caliber of the weapon suggests a semi-automatic pistol or small revolver, possibly one for self-defense.” The officer said.
He watched the man in front of him as a chill formed around his heart, hardening as it grew colder inside of him, as he received the news. His parents were dead. Both shot dead in a drive by. His shaky hands moved to his face to remove his glasses carefully as he ran a sweaty hand over his face.
"I'm sorry sir..." The officer said almost blandly as he watched him. He wanted to scream to the heavens. He wanted to punch a wall until he broke his hand. He wanted to get away from the town. He ran a hand through his shoulder length ginger hair as he looked away. He forced the wave of emotions that threatened to push take him away in its force down, bottling everything up. He took a deep breath.
"Alright..." He sighed out, his voice shaky. He slowly closed the door, looking around the home that was previously his parents…
It had been two years ago. His parents death was the start of his family’s falling apart. A few months after they had died, his grandmother died in her sleep, peacefully. That followed with his grandfather, the one he worked for, to blow his head off with a double barreled shotgun. He walked in to find his blood and brains coating the walls. To say that he wasn’t scarred by that would be a lie. Tensions ran high as it seemed to send everyone into a frenzy, fighting each other. Each of them broke apart, either destroying relationships with their loved ones because of drugs and emotional turmoil, or moving away from everyone else to get time to themselves. James was in the middle of it all. Medical insurance made sure that he had money to his name, and with him taking over his grandfathers business, he had a steady source of income. He managed to keep good grades in school, graduating the previous year, and was working full time, cutting firewood. There were visible effects to how he had taken following years, as admitted to him by former school friends and regular customers. Dead eyes. Blank stares. Grunts in response to questions asked. Social anxiety. Fatigue. No tolerance for mistakes or screw ups. He discouraged most people from trying to get to know him, and he wanted to be that way.
James used an old cloth that his grandfather used to clean oil and sweat off of him to do the same. A thin beard had started to grow on his face, connecting to a moustache that had been growing for a few months before. He looked at the cloth. It was a white T-shirt that had been torn, and was now covered in oil, grease, and gasoline. It smelled heavily of sweat and cars, but he didn't care. James wore a grey shirt with a breast pocket on it, filled with a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a pocket knife, a pair of navy blue jeans, a wallet chain attached to one of his loops on his pants, a pair of dark brown cowboy boots without spurs, and sunglasses. It was nearing winter, but it was a clear, beautiful day, and he had a plain black hoodie nearby for when he leaves. He shifted where he was, splitting a large piece of wood in half with a machine he used to cut large pieces of wood in half.
He never learned the official name of the machine, and he never had to look for a replacement, instead just using a nickname for it. A loud crack filled the air as he split the large piece of wood. Picking up one half of it, he took it to a chopping block, picking up an axe. He spun the tool in his hand, shuffling around. He stopped, gripping the tool, before lifting it high into the air. He brought it down, splitting the large piece into two smaller pieces. He took one of the wedges and did the same, satisfied with the two pieces. He did the same with the other wedge, then moved to the other half of the larger piece. James' day continued that way for the rest of the day, piling the cut firewood into separate cords. Nodding to himself, he shuffled around, picking up equipment. He stuffed them into the backseat of his car, the 2001 Ford Mustang. His phone ringed. When he was younger, his phone used to have the Doctor Who theme as its ringtone, changing it every now and often to different things. Now it was the default ringtone.
He answered without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?" He grunted immediately. Static met his ears. A garbled voice met his ears, the voice slightly feminine, the question they asked indiscernible.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What did you say?" He asked, starting the car. The engine roared to life, cutting off a question he heard the other end started to ask, which seemed clear. “-send here?” He heard the last few words garble out.
"Yes? Give me-" He started to say, before he felt a pulling sensation. Lights erupted in his vision, like he had just got punched. He had a feeling similar to when he needed to belch, and did so, only to get a purple mist to exit his mouth and nose. He watched the purple mist curiously, clutching his stomach as it started to burn. The sensation got stronger, and he started to notice everything around him was disappearing, his car breaking in and out of reality. A feeling of dread found its way into him, a tingling sensation going from his legs, to his arms, crawling up his spine deceptively slowly, before shooting to his head almost instantly, causing him to black out immediately.
He sat up with a gasp, filling his lungs with oxygen that it needed desperately. It felt like he just went swimming in mud, his skin tingling with the sensation. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. He was in his car,but that didn’t catch his attention. He was in what looked like a giant cage. He blinked slowly, as if he would find himself somewhere else.
"Where the hell did..." He trailed off as he saw some form of... Being walked up to the cage, trying to talk to his car, their lips moving as he just sat there. They were masculine, but had female traits that threw him off. They had a pair of sky blue feathery wings on their back, and their hair was all colors of the rainbow.
He yawned, rubbing his eyes again. "I must be dreaming..." He said to himself. More... Beings walked into the room, some wearing armor that looked like real gold, each with similar traits to the first being. Four of them had wings, not including the first being, three with horns as well as wings, two with only horns, and two without anything extra on their bodies. He reached for his keys. He didn’t find them in the ignition and started to look for them. He found them on the floor, strangely enough.
"Gas is full... Let's just hope everything is still running." He grumbled as he pushed the key into the ignition. His car, from what he could remember, had been left on. The car roared to life, startling the many beings in the room. Each shot a look towards James' car, some in fear, some cautious, some friendly, some cautious, and some in disgust. He gave a chuckle and started counting all of the beings. At least thirty of these strange… things out there. One of me. Ain’t this a bitch. He thought to himself. He could see their mouths moving, as if they were talking to each other, or the car, but everything was muffled. He sighed heavily, switching the car off to preserve gas, before pulling the key out, making a quick decision of meeting this head on as he pushed the door open. Each face shot to the door opening, accompanied by gasps. He put a foot out of the door, making sure his actions were slow and fluid, before pulling himself out.
"It's a pony!" He heard someone cry. Pony? The fuck is wrong with these people… He stood to his full height, his hair barely brushing the bars above his head, as he gave a flat stare to each of them.
"...What?!" He lashed out after a minute of silence. Each one of them jumped at the sudden voice.
"Um... Sir? Is this beast... Yours?" One of the beings with wings and a horn asked.
"Beast? Funny. It's my car, if that's what you're asking." He said sarcastically. Some of the beings bristled in anger.
"Watch your tongue! You're talking to one of the princesses of Equestria!" One of the armored beings asked.
"Was I talking to you? No. Shut the fuck up." He snapped at the being. They each visibly recoiled at his harsh language and reply.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to get out of this fucking cage, and get back home. I've wasted enough time as it is. And I still smell like a fucking barn." He said.
"What are you?" One of them asked suddenly.
"The fuc... Are you stupid? I'm a human, like you dumbass." He shot back in the general direction of the voice.
"Hyooman?" A regal sounding voice butchered.
"Human. You know, the only extant members of the hominin clade, a branch of great apes characterized by erect posture and bipedal locomotion; manual dexterity and increased tool use; omnivores, originally nomadic; have been on Earth for millions of years, probably nearing eight billion in numbers soon." He rolled his eyes. "Christ, you're a group of stupid sons of bitches." He laughed harshly at their stunned faces. “Even I payed attention in school. Now let me out of here or I'll put a hole through those bars and run your asses over." He leaned against the car, looking at each of them.
"What is wrong with you?! Have you no respect for others?!" One of them yelled at him.
"Wrong with me? There’s nothing wrong with me. I just hate you all. I don't give respect unless given to me. And I haven't seen an ounce given to me. Now, you can start again, or we can end this conversation and I bust out of this cage and kill all of you." He got back into the car, starting it up and pressing down on the accelerator. The beings jumped again, each giving a glance at each other.
"What in Equestria is wrong with that stallion?" Someone asked.
"I don't think he's a stallion..." Another, motherly one answered.
"What needs to happen is that he should be locked away in the dungeons for his intolerance and rudeness." An armored being that stood next to the winged and horned being said. James scoffed before he chuckled.
"Let's try his way before making any rash decisions." The midnight blue one muttered.
"Hey you!" James heard next to him. He was messing around with the radio, trying to find a radio station to listen to while they made their decision.
"The fuck you want?" He said, looking up. The one with teal wings was standing next to him.
"What's your deal anyway? Why are you so rude to everyone?" She asked. He barked a laugh.
"Ever since I woke up, I've been treated like a criminal, and I didn't do anything wrong. You let me out of this cage, maybe I won't be so pissed." He looked away as he reached behind him, trying to find a CD case that had his favorite music in it. His fingers brushed against the case, but he couldn’t get a good grip on the case. Spinning around, he reached down and grabbed.
“AHA!” He shouted out, holding up the CD case victoriously. Inside were about fifty or more CDs from his favorite bands, artists, and composers.
“Hello, sir?” He heard behind him. A female.
“Yes ma’am?” He asked, suddenly changing attitude.
“Are you okay?” She asked. He turned around to stare at her. The largest of them all. The white one with a horn and wings.
“Not at all. I’m trapped in a cage, I’m hungry and thirsty, and I smell like a locker room. I’m tired. I’m sore.” He said, pulling out a CD. Shaking his head, he stuffed it back into the case and shuffled through the rest of them. Closing the case, he tossed it into the back seat and turned around to give the being his attention, but she was gone. He shrugged and pulled out his phone. It was a touch screen phone from 2012. He wasn’t about getting the newest everything. He tapped his way through the lock screen, before looking at his call log. A phone number he had never seen before. It wasn’t an American phone number. It had five digits instead of seven, if area code was not included. He tapped it to call the person back. A sudden ringing filled his ears. He frowned.
“A call? At this hour?” One of the horn and winged beings said. She pulled out an odd looking cell phone. It wasn’t like an older cell phone. It looked somewhat new, but it had some form of crystal at the bottom of it, which glowed with her phones ringtone. He sat back as he watched her move away from the crowd.
“Hello?” She asked.
“Yes, you called this number. I was wondering what it was for.” He said flatly.
“Oh! I was wondering when you send five…” She trailed off as she looked for the terminology of it.
“Cords?” He suggested.
“Yes! Five cords of firewood to Canterlot?” She asked.
“Canterlot? That’s not a real city. Neither is Camelot, if you’re trying to be cute.” He sighed. “Is this some sort of prank call? Either tell me an address that’s real, or get lost.” He muttered.
She looked at him, her eyes wide. “I’ll have to call you back.” She quickly hung up, moving back to the crowd, pointing at James. He cocked an eyebrow.
“They have armor from the Castle Age, yet they have Cell Phones. What type of fucked up world is this?” He asked himself, shutting off his phone. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and counting to thirty.
“Sir?” He heard. His eyes opened and he looked to the side. A female, by the way her body curves.
“Yes ma’am?” He asked. She cocked an eyebrow.
“How can you go from completely livid to calm in half a minute?” She asked.
“Did I come off as livid? That was just mere irritation for me.” He said. She seemed to blanch, and shuffled away. He chuckled darkly.
“I can get used to this…” He said to himself.
“Mr…” Someone said suddenly.
“If you’re asking for my name, it’s James. James Heller. Mr. Heller is my father, so just call me James.” He said, not opening his eyes.
“Yes… James, what was it you did back where you were?” They asked.
“I was a student until last year. I’ve been cutting firewood for the last four years.” He said, thinking back to how his life was back then.
“All by yourself? Impressive.” They said.
“Sure, by myself…” He muttered quietly.
They seemed to take the hint and moved away. He was glad they were gone. He wanted to be left alone. But it seemed like his wishes were flushed down the toilet when viewed by the gods. A loud click met his ears, but he ignored it. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him to the ground. His first reaction to the treatment was to roll backwards, putting all of his might behind the roll to bring the opponent down to the floor. He opened his eyes and put a boot in the middle of their back, twisting his wrist until it popped free from their grip. He grabbed their wrist, putting his other boot on the back of their elbow, before pressing down. He pulled back quickly. A loud snap echoed through the air, followed by a scream of pain. He let go of their arm. It took him all of two seconds to break their arm, and it was pure instinct doing so. He grimaced, stepping away from their body as they lay whimpering on the floor, sitting back down in his car as the beings rushed their fallen comrade.
