You know what they say, having a gun pointed at you is THE recipe for a great day!
Don't really know why I thought of that joke, really I don't.
It's not even a good one.
What's sure though is that multiples thoughts were running through my mind right now, the first one OBVIOUSLY being 'How the hell did I end up here?'
The others were all the less important ones, from dumb gun jokes to wondering if I indeed did close the door behind me.
Just the usual.
In the end though, my brain finally decided to be useful by giving my mugger all the attention he needed.
I call the guy Twitchy Finger-! "GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING PHONE" "Sure brother calm down-!" "I'M FUCKING CALM" "Sorry my man, that's my bad, here take it" Well, I call him Twitchy Finger in my head. I like living after all.
The reason why he's named Twitchy. In my head at least. Is that, for some reason, he seems to be competing in the annual edging the trigger competition!
I don't like this competition.
Without even a shred of regret, I take my phone out and Twitchy proves himself quite reactive as my phone disappears from my hand.
Unfortunately it seems like Twitchy is not satisfied, as after gracelessly putting my phone in his pocket -he almost made it fall twice- he's now waving his glock dangerously in my direction.
Looks like an interpretative dance.
Didn't knew abstract art evolved into mugging.
"YOUR FUCKING WALLET!"
Is he gonna take my shoes too or some-!
[WELCOME TO THE MULTIVERSE INTEGRATION PLEASE BE PATIENT AND STAY STILL WHILE ADJUSTMENTS ARE MADE!]
Can you hallucinate from stress? A look toward Twichy tells me I'm not crazy, however, he's more nervous than me while I'M THE ONE BEING MUGGED!
So perhaps that's a hallucination too.
What an amazing coincidence, too coincidental even, I would love for some explanation or at least confirmation that I'm not crazy.
[All your possessions, apart from already equipped belongings have been put in the inventory. Please be patient, and peacefully wait for the tutorial]
No explanation, nor any confirmation in sight. Great, WHAT A GREAT DAY!
"YOU!" Twitchy take a gulp like breathe "yo-you see that too?" Oh, he stopped screaming.
Nice.
"I do twitchy, I do." I wait for an answer, but the lack of it and the frown on Twitchy face make me realize that I called him Twichy in a loud, and clear voice.
Not nice.
"The fuck you called me BITCH" Without waiting for much ground to accuse me on, -he'd make a great cop- Twitchy slam me against the wall, his gun now digging into my chest, "YOU THINK I'M WEAK HUH, YOU THINK I'M A BITCH" "listen, man, I never sai-!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP"
This has done it.
This little show of force brought me clarity like a cold shower would. The horrible ball of nervousness I was doing my best to ignore rise up, making the tip of my fingers shake.
Don't tell me I'm going to die from Twitchy fingers of all people?
I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry for this. Something prick behind my nose, behind my eyes, probably tears building up.
Jokes aren't that good of a shield in that situation.
My gut twist on itself. It already did. But right now I'm aware of it. And that make everything so damn worse.
In the middle of my quick mental breakdown, Twitchy perhaps seeing the fear in my eyes, calm his breathing down. One breath, and another one.
Fuck yes twitchy calm down, no need to stain your hands like that, that's a good thing to say, say it out loud.
"N-no" coughing to get rid of that pathetic-sounding voice, I try again "Look, my man, I'm really sorry alright, no need to stain your hands like that"
Still pinning the cold barrel against my chest, Twitchy, like salvation taken form, mutter in a voice slightly less manic "J-just take your fucking wallet out!"
"Sure" Slamming my hands in my pockets I try to grab my wallet but...I don't find it.
That's strange I'm pretty sure it was right here.
"What you waiting for!?" Twitchy noticed my aimless search.
"Well..." How can I say this? "You may find it funny."
"But my wallet just kind of disappeared."
I finished this sentence with a small laugh, it sounded a bit too nervous to my ears, I don't like that.
Silence.
Deadly cold silence.
I don't like that look in Twitchy's eyes.
Confirming my fear with a harder grip on my collar, Twitchy transform back into a rabid dog.
"Disappeared!?"
"Yes?"
"Ha," what?
"Ha" the?
"Hahahaha" fuck?
And he keep laughing. And laughing, this laugh doesn't sound welcoming AT ALL!
It's filled with sighs and manic undertones, is he crazy? He is, isn't he? And considering how he is screaming so loud that spit cover my face now, I was right "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU TAKE ME FOR!? YO-Y-YOU YOU THINK I'M DUMB RIGHT, YOU FUCKING THINK I'M DUMB, YOU THINK I'M A BITCH"
And he keeps going and going, pushing hard against my collar, taking full advantage of the fact that he's armed to slam my back against the concrete. "YOU'RE LIKE THOSE FUCKER YOU THINK I'M A BITCH"
I need to calm things down. "LISTEN LISTEN I NEVER NEVER SAID THAT"
"YOU JUST FUCKING SAID IT, I'M A BITCH! YOU THINK I'M A BITCH"
I never said that. "MAN MAN CALM DOWN, WHAT'S YOUR OBSESSION WITH BITCHES I SEE NO BITCHES IN FRONT OF ME"
"YOU THINK I'M A BITCH!? YOU THINK I CAN'T SHOOT YOU!?"
Wait what?
As if to illustrate an extremely well-made point, twitchy hit the barrel of the industrialized death tool against his temple before pointing it toward me again.
A small feeling rise in my throat. It's ugly. It's panicky and it makes me feel fucking horrible, I hate this shit, I fucking hate this shit.
Calm down, calm down Lud, don't panic, just talk, calm the manic down, don't scream back, calm down, appeal to reason. "Mannn, I swear I think you can just don'-!" "YOUTHINKIFUCKINGCANT"
"I'M NOT LYING IT'S NOT THERE, I'LL GIVE YOU MY WALLET, IT'S THAT INVENTORY SHIT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO OPEN IT!"
Ah, I screamed.
"YOU THINK I'M DUMB, YOU THINK I CAN'T"
How the fuck do you open that inventory!? Raising my hands in a gesture of surrender I put my hands right in front of Twitchy as he keep repeating himself like a broken record.
How do I open it, open it Lud, open it.
"YOUTHINKICANT" proving his willingness Twitchy points the barrel toward me with the intent to end this little argument. "I NEVER SAID THAT!" OPEN OPENEOPENOPEN
The dirty feeling get stronger and stronger. Making my hands shake, flooding my body with adrenaline, trying to help as much as it can in this ridiculous situation.
My throat feel tight. My nose stuffy. And my heart is beating so damn fast it hurt.
HOW DO I DO IT!? INVENTORY INVENTORY, FUCKING OPEN INVENTORY.
I try anything and everything as Twitchy starts pointing the gun real close to my juicy head, full of sweet brain matter that would oh just love to become a fresh paint for the wall behind me.
I try to imagine a treasure chest to open, a bullshit place inside my soul or whatever, any cliché, any ways to open an inventory in all the stories I read get used and reused.
It's less logical and more a desperate attempt to save my life, anything to free twitchy from his insecurity crisis.
INVENTORYINVENTORYINVETORY
"I'M GONNA SHOW YOU, I CAN DO IT, MAMA RAISED NO BITCH"
"I SWEAR I CAN GIVE IT CALM THE FUCK DOWN"
INVENTORY INVENTORY
Like a fucking guillotine I stare right back at the barrel of the flimsy little gun, compared to before, I don't really think much right now.
Good to know that I'm not plagued by thoughts of open doors in a situation like this I guess.
After staring at the weapon ready to pronounce my death, I stare at the wielder of such weapon, this horrible twitchy finger.
He's not edging the trigger anymore.
No. His finger is stable.
Twitchy, for once in his pathetic little life decided to be confident.
And it's to kill me.
INVENTORYINVENTORY "WAIT WAIT WAIT MAN PLEASE!
"I CAN DO IT, I'M NOT A FUCKING BITCH"
INVENTORY INVENTORY INVENTORY
INVENTORY
INVENTORY, FUCKING OPEN!
Thinking about it, focusing on the inventory may not be the best of ideas.
However, I'll argue that logic don't really have it's place right now.
Not when I'm just about to die.
He press the trigger.
[Stocked 1 broken remnant of 9mm ammo in inventory]