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[Cabbage, Chapter 1]

Nov 29th, 2012
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  1. [Cabbage]
  2. >Man. Rainy today, isn't it? Err, tonight, rather- sun had long since set. Now, the only thing that guided you around this tiny town were the gilded rings of light spat forth by the flickering street lamps littering the sidewalks. Pulling your reddish jacket tighter around you, you couldn't help but shudder; it was getting cold out. Home was at least a mile away, you wouldn't be getting there any time soon. Better get used to the cold, then.
  3.  
  4. >Eventually, you dragged your feet to the threshhold of the house, heaving a heavy sigh of relief as you reached it. Opening the door, you slipped inside, then closed and locked the door behind you. It had been a long day at work. You just wanted to get in bed, fall asleep, and enjoy the rest of your-
  5. >"Hello, Cabbage." oozed a voice from directly behind you. "I thought I told you to stop coming to my house."
  6. >Your blood went cold. You were afraid of this; it was always a gambit, coming to his house to sleep. You knew that he always left his door unlocked, no matter what, but he would come down on you with the fury of the heavens to guide his fist. And, last time, if memory served, he had sworn that he would kill you if you tried to come back.
  7. "Heeey, man."
  8. >"Anonymous, I'm about to shove my boot so far up your ass that you'll taste rubber and leather for the next month." he hissed, grabbing you by the collar and dragging you out onto the front lawn.
  9. >You tried desperately to escape his grasp. Failing utterly, you accepted defeat, preparing for the immanent beating. From how he'd been last night, you expected it to be pretty severe.
  10. >A swift kick to the stomach proved this expectation correct.
  11.  
  12. >A vicious stomp on your left leg, then on your right hand. He kicked you uncountable times in the sides, taking breaks in-between to plant his boot into your stomach. Good thing you hadn't eaten much today, or you'd be lying in a pool of vomit. Nasty.
  13. >"I fucking told you to stay away from my house, Anonymous!" he shouted, matching every syllable with a kick. "You never listen to a damn word I tell you!"
  14. "C'mon, man, can't you gimme a break?"
  15. >"HOW ABOUT I BREAK YOUR GODDAMNED LEGS, YOU FUCKING MORON." he bellowed, never letting up on his harsh beating.
  16. >This was starting to look bad for you. Blood was pooling around you; not much, but still enough for it to be an issue. The leg he'd crushed felt broken, and so did your right hand. You couldn't help but cough up splatters of blood every now and again, usually in a syncronized pattern with his kicks. You probably wouldn't be walking for a good long while after this.
  17. >Now, you didn't know this, but if he'd been allowed to keep going on like that, you would've died that day. But, lucky for you, fate was smiling upon you. With a crack of thunder, a glorious, blinding light blew forth from behind your assailant. It threw him forward, and he knocked his head on a tree, unconscious upon impact. You, however, were faced with the source of the shockwave.
  18. >A massive vortex, bursting with bright, radiant light, easily large enough to fit a car into. It was... oh, lord, it was like nothing you'd ever seen. You could compare it to the stories about near death experiences; the light at the end of the tunnel. Well, you were near death, and this looked a hell of a lot like people described dying as.
  19. >If this was how you were supposed to die, who were you to argue?
  20.  
  21. >"LYRA! LYRA! SWEET CELESTIA, OPEN THE DOOR!" screeched Bon-Bon, nearly breaking down the wooden barrier with her frantic knocking.
  22. >You groaned. What could she possibly want? It was... You didn't know. It was late. That's all you knew, that's all you cared about.
  23. "I don't care what it is, Bonnie, it can wait."
  24. >"LYRA, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND; THERE'S A MONSTER IN THE LIVING ROOM." she cried, voice seeming to border on the insane.
  25. "You're hallucinating, Bonnie. It's the sleep deprevation. Go to bed."
  26. >"NO! LYRA! IT'S... IT'S A HUMAN!"
  27. >You were out of the bedroom before she could draw a breath. Taking a firm hold of her shoulders, you stared deep into her eyes.
  28. "Take me to it. Now."
  29.  
  30. >Well. What a fine, fine mess you were in. Dying is supposed to ease all wounds, isn't it? You don't see some saint all fuckin' torn up from a shark attack that's still like that in heaven, do you? Fuck no! They're all healed and whatnot. But you? You were still bleeding profusely, aching all over, and coughing up things you couldn't even identify. Either you weren't dead or this was Hell.
  31. >"When'd it get here?" came a voice not far from you.
  32. >"I don't know! I just don't know! I was coming down to make some tea, and it was just on the couch!" wailed another.
  33. >Oh god. Were they talking about you? Shit. What had you done? Was it the injuries? These questions and two dozen more flew through your mind blazingly fast, not allowing you even a second to process them, much less answer them. You began to panic, and you hadn't even opened your eyes yet. This blood-loss was doing a number on your mind.
  34. >"Oh, Celestia... What happened to it?" asked the calm voice, sounding much closer now.
  35. >"I-I don't know. It just showed up like this!" cried the scared voice.
  36. >Okay, this was going to get out of hand really fast. You had to say something... But you couldn't. Hard as you tried, you couldn't get yourself to move. You could open your mouth- couldn't even open your eyes.
  37. >"I-is it supposed to be... leaking?"
  38. >"Oh... Oh, no. Oh, NO! That's blood, Bonnie! We need to stop the bleeding!"
  39. >You heard the click clack of movement and the frantic screaming of both your discoverers as they rushed madly about, trying to find something to stop you from bleeding to death. Through your fogged mind, you managed to think, "How can these people not have bandages?!" You'd find out soon enough, but, for now, you remained clueless. In a burst of panicked will, you forced open your jaw, and croaked out speech.
  40.  
  41. >"Don't you people... have a first aid kit...?" echoed the rough, ragged sounding voice from the couch.
  42. >Turning to your new potential best friend (assuming you could save him), you realized that it had it's mouth open. It had just said that.
  43. >It took a great amount of willpower not to faint from joy.
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