Out of the dirt-covered trees came flying a hamburger.
On top of the Cathedral of Sainte Decius, a man with a long nose lay prone, gripping his weapon so tightly that his right hand ached. In the last two days, Smith had been threatened, shot at, tossed into a mysterious bureaucracy, shuffled along into a pile of socks, given a gun from the sky, forced to run for his life and finally, most distressingly, he had run out of cigarettes. Filled with an abundance of nerves, his hands shook and he had to grip the gun with two hands to keep it still.
Despite all of the adrenaline and fatigue, Smith raised the handgun, unsuited for sniping as it was, and focused on his target. In a voice he hoped the abomination would never hear, Smith whispered “Death”.
Carla thought she was opening her eyes, based on the fact that she could see again. Then again, it didn’t feel anything like opening her eyes usually felt. Her body felt cold and stiff, like what she imagined waking up from a coma must feel like.
In front of her, Carla saw a bloody stain on the ground. Continue reading
Carla woke up with a problem. For the last two days, the young woman had been experiencing an enormous amount of stress, from fighting with her uncle to interdimensional travel to watching a man bleed to death in front of her. Besides all of that, everything that Carla had eaten in that time had been prepackaged and canned food- mostly beans and corn. On top of this, she’d spent a lot of the time dehydrated and moving around a lot more than most days. Of course, any dramatic change in stress, diet or level of exercise can lead to problems with one’s digestive system. And so it came to be that Carla had not used the bathroom since coming to the Lost Dimension.