The Second Adventure: A Cat Called Britain (A Caper in Time Part 1)
by Evan Forman and Michael Robertson - 22.12.14
IN OUR PREVIOUS ADVENTURE...
"So you want me to be your...biographer?"
"Essentially, yes."
After a moment of thought, Aerin's mind was set. "Fine. I'll tag
along for a while. What's the worst that could happen?"
"You could fall, you could be crushed, you could be stabbed,
shot, burned, melted, incinerated, exterminated, ripped to
pieces, frozen, imprisoned, devoured by wolves, falcons, lions,
tigers, bears, cannibals, an irate god, not to mention all the
other things from beyond the possibilities of mere imagination
that you may also encounter. Or get eaten alive by, buried,
tortured, or exploded by.
After realising that John was absolutely not joking, a pale
shade of green flooded the elf's already rather green cheeks.
"That was a rhetorical question."
"That was a rhetorical answer."
AND NOW, THE HEART-STOPPING NEXT INSTALMENT OF OUR THRILLING STORY!
Aerin Liette woke up from his nightmare. Images of an
adventurer called John Boss and Lockswell - a bounty hunter
driven mad by his obsession with avenging his family's honour -
stirred in the murk of his half-awake mind. Everything was pitch
black, but he only needed to feel the familiar pillow of his bed
to know he was back in the safety of the Stallion and Mare Inn.
He lay still in the darkness, slightly saddened that none of it
had been real, but comfortable in the carefully cultivated
mundanely of his life. More importantly, he was relieved that he
hadn't actually seen three people die and that the dream's
horrifying and nonsensical conclusion had been just that: a
dream. "Now that could be a story." he thought.
"Because fuck all that miserable poetry and grim novels about
farmers and class struggle; these are swashbuckling tales of
action and adventure, the wild exploits of John Boss! Still,
he'll need some kind of flaw or limitation. Yes, his name is
literally 'John Boss the 34th', but other than being a bit of a
prick he's too one-dimensional and unbelievable a character to
really make for compelling reading."
Aerin stared up into the blackness as the excitement of a new
idea buzzed around in his head, and wriggled at his toes. There
was a faint scraping noise from the roof, probably just another
mouse, he thought. It continued for about half a minute, getting
louder as the mouse got closer to Aerin's corner of the room,
and then abruptly stopped. "Should I get up and write some
details down in case I forget? Nah, I'll give myself 'til
tomorrow to think about it."
A sharp wedge of rusty metal slammed down from a crack of light
that had suddenly appeared above Aerin's head and stopped about
eighteen millimetres from his open eyeball. He was frozen still,
staring at the edge of what looked like an old shovel as it
receded back into the slit of light to make room for two large,
calloused hands to reach through and violently tear away the
darkness with a loud crack.
Aerin jammed his eyes shut at the blinding light, and as he
slowly adjusted with each blink, he was able to make out the
hulking figure of John Boss standing above him. His vision
became normal after a few seconds, and now he was able to see
the small wooden box he had been inside this whole time, and the
six-foot hole in the dirt above. Aerin looked slightly stunned
at John Boss who was not only a real person but was completely
calm and collected about this whole situation. Aerin stuttered.
"Th...that wasn't a dream?"
"That wasn't a dream."
"I'm in a coffin."
Boss tossed the shovel out onto the ground above. "You're in a
coffin."
Aerin sat up in shock. "JOHN, I FUCKING DIED!"
"Well...I DID warn you."