Alley struggle

Before I could even process what had happened, a large fist suddenly shot out and struck me right in the face, and then everything went black.

As I opened my eyes, I surprisingly found myself standing in the midst of a grassy vast plain. However, grass were not the only thing present around me, rows upon rows of men dressed in oddly familiar blue colored uniforms and carrying what appeared to be muskets were marching past me.

At that very moment, after a brief and careful inspection, I came to realize that they were American soldiers, back during the Revolutionary War.

But the question is... Where the fuck am I? and how the hell did I end up in here? 

The first thing I sensed when I first found myself in here, were the rhythmic stomps of their boots striking the earth and the distant, continuous beats of drummers, creating a mesmerizing symphony that seemed to hang in the air. Amidst this auditory dance, commands like 'Eyes front!' bellowed by nearby sergeants added to the tapestry of sounds surrounding me.

Although a gentle breeze brushed against me, the unmistakable scent of sweat from the exhausted soldiers marching alongside me permeated the air. Surprisingly, despite the smell, it didn't even bother me in the slightest bit.

Carefully observing them, I was astonished to realize that not a single one seemed to sense my presence, as if I were a ghost or some invisible specter.

But... why do the elements here affect me in such a way that I can feel the temperature and hear the sounds, yet I remain invisible to their eyes?

Just what is going on?

Then a thought suddenly crossed my mind...

I felt like this has happened to me before... But I can't seem to search and browse through my thoughts properly. After all, my memory is strangely hazy right now.

Sighing, my gaze then began to follow the marching army's direction. And in a matter of seconds, my attention is now fixed on something new. Since the ground I'm standing on is slightly elevated, I could see a large contingent of soldiers in familiar red uniforms forming up in the distance to the north, the same direction the American soldiers are currently heading at.

Wait, is that..

I squinted my eyes, and there it was, the familiar flag of the Kingdom of Great Britain, fluttering proudly above the sea of red-clad men.

Oh my god... is there going to be a battle?

There's no doubt about it.

Before I could start my pace alongside the American soldiers heading north, towards the British's direction, one soldier seemingly tripped and landed his body in front of me, dropping his musket and a couple of items on the ground.

I then stopped on my tracks, surprised at this sudden incident.

Just who the...

My thoughts were suddenly cut short as a sergeant suddenly came into view, rushing towards the fallen soldier before beginning to berate him.

It lasted but a mere minute, a barrage of insults like 'Maggot,' 'Lubber,' and many more were hurled at him. When the sergeant finally departed, the fallen soldier promptly picked himself up, brushing the dust from his uniform.

As I was about to walk past him, he abruptly swiveled his head in my direction, and our gazes locked, freezing me in my tracks. To make things even more strange, a familiar shining pendant dangled beneath his neck.

What the hell... Why does this guy look so strangely familiar? And that pendant, I feel like I've seen it somewhere before, but where?

Before I knew it, my vision suddenly plunged into darkness, and in the next instant, I was rudely jolted awake as a cascade of icy water drenched me, soaking my upper body and leaving me gasping for breath.

What the fuck?

A bone-chilling cold crept through my entire body, and as I slowly came to, I realized I was sprawled out on the ground. My gaze fixated on the velvet night sky above, while the rough texture of dirt grazed the exposed parts of my skin.

Suddenly, without warning, a searing pain shot through my nose, accompanied by the unmistakable salty taste of blood welling up in my mouth.

As I raised my free right hand to touch my nose, a warm, sticky substance greeted my fingertips. A sharp jolt of pain made me instinctively flinch. Slowly withdrawing my hand, I examined my fingers, which were now coated with dark red blood.

Fuck, what happened?

Gradually, memories began to resurface in my mind, and I pieced together how I had ended up in this situation.

I was punched! But by whom?

As if on cue, two large naked looming figures suddenly appeared in my vision, one of them holding an empty bucket.

My heart sank at this, "Holy fucking shit!" Before I knew it, my body acted on instinct, propelling me into a sitting position. I scrambled backward in desperation until my back thudded against a wall, halting my retreat.

MY heart raced as I desperately scanned my surroundings for an escape route, but my options were limited. I realized I was in a narrow alleyway, a cramped passage between two wooden structures. It wasn't the same alley I had used as a shortcut, but at least it wasn't as shrouded in darkness as the other.

However, the darkness of the alley was the least of my concerns at that moment. I held my breath, my eyes fixed on the two naked men who were slowly advancing toward me, their leering grins sending shivers down my spine.

At that moment, I finally recognized them. One was the guy I had once competed with to take over Erik's shift. The other one with the bucket looked vaguely familiar; I recalled seeing him a few times during my time in the quarry.

"Fuck" I muttered, trying my best to control and calm my already trembling limbs.

Am I going to get?... Just the thought of it is enough to drive me mad.

I would rather fucking die!

"Just so you know, giving it to him while he's awake is a bad idea," the one without the bucket said, casting a disapproving glance at his partner. He was a bald man with a noticeably huge scar running across his head. The other one, who was holding the bucket, had long curly hair. Both of them probably stood at least 6 feet tall, with large muscular frames.

The curly one scoffed, "I like it when them boys scream," and then pointed his finger at me. "I know what you're thinking about, scream all you want, but no one's going to come and help you."

I swallowed nervously at his words. If what he said was true, it seemed I had no other choice but to rely on myself alone.

The bald guy stared at his companion for a moment before sighing, then without warning, he rushed towards me, catching me off guard.

"What are you doing?!" the curly one shouted, following after him.

Before I could process what was happening, the bald one had already wrapped both of his hands around my neck and began to squeeze.

Oh shit..

I began to thrash on the ground, my three free limbs flailing wildly through the air. A searing pain swelled in my throat, and my airway constricted, growing tighter with each passing second.

"Can't... fucking... breathe," I muttered through gritted teeth in English. Tears welled up in both of my eyes, and my vision grew increasingly blurry and darker.

I suddenly saw the figure of the curly one appear behind the bald one's back, seemingly yelling towards him. However, the world around me grew fainter and unclear, and his words became incomprehensible in my ears.

At this point, my right hand was already clawing at his arms, my desperation driving it to do anything to remove his grip from my throat. Unfortunately, I achieved nothing more than scratches and small cuts.

Shortly after, his grip around my throat tightened even more, as if he were applying even greater force to the choke.

Am I going to meet my end like this, with my lifeless body going to be use as...

My thoughts halted as my eyes fell upon a small plank of wood lying to my left... This sight immediately ignited the flames of hopes within me.

I don't care if it takes another year of recovery; I absolutely refuse to let my body become their plaything!

"Fuck.. you!" I put all my remaining will and strength unto my left arm, with adrenaline and my natural instinct to survive coursing within me. In an instant, the sling holding my left arm snapped and my left arm surprisingly shot out.

The sensation was strange; I hadn't even noticed that my fingers on my left hand had already gripped the rough surface of the wooden plank.

Caught off guard, he withdrew both of his hands from my neck in a futile attempt to block my incoming attack, but it was already too late. I had already raised the wooden plank and smashed it onto his temple, his expression shifting from aggression to shock.

How do you like it, motherfucker?

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CHAPTER DONE!!