Hero Crisis: Running to the Only Reality

He heard the sounds of footsteps coming closer. Something wasn't right. He was in his bed last night when he went to sleep. Why was he standing, and what was that smell?

Tom could feel a warm, humid breeze with a hint of salt. Impossible, he didn't live anywhere near open water. What the fuck is going on.

The footsteps were getting closer, and something about the direction and speed gave him an uneasy feeling. His eyes opened to see a set of dark walls and a lit street ahead pats the end of the dark walls. There also was a blacked-out figure with a hood drawn running towards him. The light of the road made it almost impossible to make out any detail other than the flashing blade in the assailant's left hand.

No! His subconscious tried to scream out, but his mind would not let him view this as a dream. Things moved at a trickling pace, he could see the knife coming, and all his mind would do is try to rationalize why he wasn't still in bed. He gasped as the blade came at his throat. This was it.

Then everything froze, the knife inches away from making my day very short. Instantly, a blinding pain struck him with a flood of images and memories. The experience was like a film reel stopped on every picture and letting the light burn into it an uncountable amount of times. The pain made him want to tear strips of his skin off his face, but it all happened in less than a second spread over ten thousand years.

Then the pain stopped. The time comes back into focus, but he knows now. His hand flies up, knocking the assassins knife hand away from his neck, then he clenched his fist. Neurons fired to his synapse, and his reactions became instinctual. His foot slams forward and down. At the same time, the clenched right fist strikes backhanded into the enemy's side. The effect is instant, and the shadowed figure slams to the wall and coughs up blood.

Tom....Adriene... Adriene was his name, beholden to no lord or king. In a time when the kingdom was torn apart, picking a side was an easy way to an early grave. Adriene? Why am I losing my old self...I can't remember anything that I could a second before. I know I didn't go to sleep here...

There was more coughing that brought him quickly back to the present situation. He looked down at the figure that was clutching their ribs. The person was still hard to see in the dark, but his mind was half distracted by the tremendous strength that came from him in the strike that put his would-be assassin down.

"Kill me," a gasping feminine voice said piteously.

"Hmmm? That does sound about right considering the situation. Can I ask why you decided to attack me?" Adriane asked the female assassin tapping his finger on his chin thoughtfully, looking distant and not at her. The female seemed to think this was an opening, but his reactions were too much for this amateur.

As she reached in her robed to grab a hidden dagger, the flat of his foot slammed into her arm where she was reaching. This movement caused her to gasp again, and when she looked up, he was still lost in thought. They had told her it would be a tough mark, but this didn't make any sense.

She had rushed him and was inches from the kill, but something changed in his eyes. She had been following him for two days, and he seemed to be private and carefree, but showed no outward talents. The Den had offered eight gold coins for the mark, and this was a standard fee to take. The Den did not say he was a proficient fighter. They had made a point to say that she would have no trouble taking him out.

This couldn't be the case, though. His moves were instant and inhuman. The man used nothing, but what is needed with each movement, yet the fear in his eyes was real. She had seen it, the terror of knowing certain death and not the courage to embrace it. Then it was replaced with ice-cold steel, and then her ribs were cracked.

She lay gasping, and then she even tried to grab a hidden dagger. He didn't even look at her; instead, he struck out and pinned her arm with his foot. This was all done while he pondered something unknown. And know he wanted to know why she tried to kill him?

"I was paid to," she said slowly.

"Have I done something wrong?" The man asked her.

"Must have," she said, looking sideways.

"What do you mean?" He asked with a frown looking down at her, finally giving her his full attention.

"Someone paid me to kill you. This, in my experience, has the distinct qualities of a person not doing right," she said to him.

"Well, if my memory is right, you might not be wrong," He said, scratching his head. Now he looked a bit lost. Not the hardened steel look he had less than thirty seconds ago.

She was at a loss and wasn't sure what to do with his foot, still pinning her. Then, he removed his foot and turned in one motion and walked out of the alley.