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Screw the Plot! I'll Save the Villain!

After pulling an all-nighter reading a 1-star novel online whose MC had the same name as him, Jamie finds himself being pushed into traffic and dying at the hands of Truck-kun. Who knew God would give him a second chance? It's too bad the new life he would be given was the same as the plot that he read from the night before? ~~~ Jamie: F**k, is it too late to die again and ask for a third chance? God: Yes. Jamie: Goddamit.. God: Okay. Time for you to screw the villain and save the plot. Jamie: Wait, what? God: I said, 'Screw the plot and save the villain.' Jamie: ... Oh, thank God God: You're welcome. Thank you for your support! I'll be updating frequently

Goosey_Goo · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
27 Chs

Chapter 27

Splashing through sparkling water, the boy walked through the creek while barefoot. Tiny fish kissed his skin before swimming away as if they were playing a game of tag. The sensation was ticklish on his toes. 

His movements caused small waves along the lazy brook. Each ripple reflected the sky above the trees and floated away like dancing ribbons. The surface was shallow and only reached his ankles. And beneath his feet he felt the smooth pebbles that cover the loamy banks.

Summer had taken over, looming through the air with a mugginess that made it impossible to do much of anything. Fortunately, their home was near a clean body of water where he could stomp about to keep cool.

"Don't go too far. Your grandma should be done with lunch soon." Behind him, his grandpa walked slowly with his hands crossed behind his back. The old man's shoulders were slightly hunched and his hair was mostly grey, but in the boy's eyes, he was as strong as a bull and as short as a tack - at least that's how he thinks how that saying goes. His grandpa is really silly sometimes.

Hearing about lunch, the child was excited. His grandma was making his favorite cornish hen and apple pie from the fruit he and his grandpa picked from the orchards this morning. This was part of the reason they were outside where it was so hot an egg could cook on the sidewalk. 

"Take this boy outside before he presses his nose to the oven," his Grandma said to his grandpa.

And always one to do as his wife says, his grandpa took him for a walk through the small forest a short ways away from their house. After crossing the street, it only took them a few minutes through the trees of verdant green to find the babbling creek, one of his most favorite places in the world.

When he reached the large rock on the other side, the boy climbed up fearlessly. His grandfather watched over him so he wasn't scared.

At the top, he looked around and felt like he was the tallest in the world. This was the first time he was able to climb all the way by himself and wanting to show his victory, he yelled, "Papa! Papa! Look at me! I'm taller than you!"

The old man nodded. "I see that. One day, you will be much taller than me." 

With bright eyes like crescents, the child laughed. His voice was crisp and sweet, causing the birds and squirrels in the trees to chirp and chatter along. The old man listened as a symphony played around them.

From the corners of the woods, small animals drew closer with a curious nature. Unafraid, the boy spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture. And all the good things gathered round his grandson.

The grandfather watched with both awe and a muted fear... This was not the first time such a confounding thing happened... But masking any cursed thoughts, he stood with an assured smile.

More than a half an of an hour passed like this when his grandfather checked his watch. Seeing how it was nearly time, he called the child back.

 "Best to hurry, before your grandma gives our pie to the neighbors."

Widening his eyes, the boy hurriedly climbed down from the rock. Next door to them was a middle aged couple with their son who was just a few years older than he was. Last time his grandma made pie, the neighbor kid came running and ate several large slices before he and his grandpa came home. 

His grandma was never one to let a soul go hungry. Even if she was on the last dollar in her pocket, she'd be sure to feed that person before sending them off on there way.

Pursing his lips, his tiny hands gripped the top like a cliff. Little critters cheered for him during his perilous task.

 In reality, the rock was only a few feet high, only as tall as him. But with such short limbs, it was a difficulty that he wasn't expecting.

Slowly, he scooted downward, his body dangling momentarily. And thinking his right foot had touched the ground, he let go of the top of the rock only to fall.

From across the water, his grandpa was startled. Not even caring is his shoes were wet, he ran to the other side where the little boy was flat on his bum.

Tears forming in his eyes, the boy lifted his hand to show something sharp sticking out of it. "Papa... it hurts!" He said woefully. The large doe-eyes were wide and pitiful. The old man felt his heart ache. He grabbed the tender little hand and studied the object.

Soon, he recognized the thing for what it was. And more than before, the pain in his heart increased tenfold. He gave the child a handkerchief from his pocket and brought him back to the house.

The boy wanted to bravely walk on his own two feet, but the old man was concerned about the thing in his palm. Picking the child up, he heaved as he stood up.

"Aren't I heavy, Papa?"

The old man's brows were two furry down-pointing lines. "What nonsense? Your papa is as strong as a bull, remember. Even when I'm a hundred years old, I'll be able to pick you up."

A few minutes later, the two were back at the house. The yard was small and covered in greenery that bore a cornucopia of fruit and vegetables.

The aroma of apples and cinnamon wafted from the kitchen, distracting the boy from the pain stemming from his hand. 

Just as she set the pan down on the counter, the old woman heard the sound of the door. The old woman went to the living room with a smile on her face... but then she saw the bright red wrapped around her grandson's hand.

"Oh my! What happened?"

His tears still stubbornly hanging at the edge of his eyes, the child sniffed, "Nana, it hurts... can I have your special ice cream to make it feel better?"

The old husband and wife helplessly looked at each other. Such a silly child.

~

With a quick and merciless tug, the item came out of the tiny palm. The boy squeaked and squirmed in his seat. The grandma soothed him while patting his back. Quickly she tended to the injury and wrapped it in clean bandages.

The old man went to put the sharp object away. There was a sadness in his eyes, but like the wound he tried to cover it up with happy ignorance.

"Papa, wait! I want to see."

But the grandfather shook his head and took the thing away. "When you are older, I'll give this to you." 

The old man went to the old couple's bedroom and took a tin canister down from their closet. Opening the lid, there were a few papers and an object that looked to be a pair to the one in his hand. He placed them together and closed it, no longer wishing to look.

Putting the can back on the shelf, he took a moment before leaving the room. 

It seemed they could delay as much as they wanted, but no matter what, the future was inevitable.

~

The crest of a moon overlapped by the sun.

Clear and distinct, the mark was an exact replica of the mark on his past-self's hand. He couldn't remember when or where he received it. It was probably somewhere before grandmother fell ill because many childhood memories were fuzzy around that time.

"This mark..." Raising his gaze, Jamie wanted to ask why it was tattooed on the General when the good Doctor returned with the concoction. "The medicine has been heated."

Nodding, Jedrick took his hand away and sat at the table where Imire placed the medicine. Lifting up his sleeves, he kindly instructed, "The smell may be bothersome. Go with the Doctor to find your book."

Yet, the boy firmly rejected. "No... I'll stay."

Hearing such a resolve raised Imire's opinion of the young master several points. And so, he offered, "If you tell me what subject you are looking for, I can find the books while you wait with the Master."

After the doctor left again, the General placed everything from his forearm down into the bubbling basin. The foul odor like a cavity in the mouth rose, tickling the senses. Moments later, the necrotic tissue began to shed away like a snake's skin. 

Jamie's eyes watered, but did not look away. It was disgusting and putrid and gross. But he did not look away. The brew sizzled and popped and the fumes of death that were not there before lifted then dispersed.

The General's forehead trickled with sweat, yet his face remained calm.

Intermittently, he casually chatted with the child. And going along with the General's feigned attitude, Jamie kept good company - keeping any heavy thoughts away to sort through later. But even though his mind was scrambled, there was no way the General could fool him into believing that this was in any way a pleasant process.

I really want some pie right now. I plan on making some for Christmas.

Just imagine...

Eating some delicious, homemade apple pie, cinnamon infused with a pinch of nutmeg... You're beside the fireplace with fuzzy socks and a nice cup of milk or coffee or tea or whatever beverage of your choice.

The buttery crust is perfectly flakey, complimenting the sweetness in the filling...

At the very top was a dollop of freshly whipped cream.

And every bite is a small parcel of heaven in your mouth.

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