DISCLAIMER: I do not own Diablo

Summary: If you don't have a buddy in this crazy world where zombies roam, magic resides, and a demon lord wants to kick the world's ass, you might as well get picked up by a pirate ninja.

Warning: Swearing. Blood. Smiles.

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"As we grow, let us realize that motivation lies in neither the carrot nor the stick, but in the simple process of moving forward, which is in itself its own reward." -Rand Maclvor, 2010

CHAPTER 1: Carrot on a Stick

I wish I could say my death was great. You know, awesome and with battle cries and the bad guy dying while I succumb to my wounds but give a hell of a good speech right before that and it inspires peace throughout the lands and becomes a legend and be told in those stories grandparents tell each other of 'You remember this person…?' 'Yeah, they were something…'

Sadly, I tripped on a rock.

It wasn't valiant. Nothing was heroic and certainly no one was endangered. Heck, I didn't even bother to save myself because it looked like all I'd get out of it was a god dang bruise.

Should have noticed that god damn nail.

And once that blinding, searing, white hot pain right through my cranium ended, I was tossed around in darkness. Not pleasantly. I felt like a pinball, jostled around and shoved this way and that. It wasn't comfortable and it was cold. Scratch that, it was flipping freezing.

And then I was sitting.

On a beach.

Funny thing is, I was wearing the same clothes I had been in before my head was split open. Only thing was, there was no pain. No blood. Oh, it wasn't gone though. It had made itself a nice little jagged scar across my forehead. It wasn't even cool either. It burned to the touch and, looking in the water, I found it to be blackened. Like, burnt black.

Just peachy, I thought crossly, I injure myself only to be stranded on some shoreline with an ugly ass scar to boot. Where am I anyway? Maybe I should- OM MY GROSS IT'S PULSING!

I was disgusted with it but my concerns edged more to where the heck I even was. The land inward didn't look too promising either. The trees were withered husks and the grass was as charcoal as my forehead, but I knew someone had to be out here.

But how did I know that?

Hell, what do I know?

I was drawing up a blank. I knew where I was from, my name, these clothes, and why that nail was there. I just couldn't think. Every time I did, the scar would send jolts of pain through my head, so I tossed the idea in favor of finding help.

And then my stomach demonstrated a whale mating call.

And it flipping hurt. I hadn't realized I was so hungry and how parched I was. And now that I acknowledged it, it hurt like a mother. I clutched my stomach out of reflexive habit and groaned.

Screw it. I'd be lucky if I even made it to the grass.

It was right about then that I thought I was in a horror movie. It was so incredibly cliché yet at the same time so incredibly scary. They came out of the woods, groaning and wobbling, making clinking noises with every step that sent chills up my spine. I gaped. It just couldn't be real. Stuff like that didn't exist, right?!

Because zombies don't exist, right?!

Right?!

I stumbled, falling back and crawling away from the lumbering monsters. They were more skeletons then they were walking corpses. Their hollowed eye sockets seemed to drill into me as they outstretched their arms, their pace increasing down the sands to where I lay. Quite stupidly, I watched them, mortified and awed.

And then they exploded.

My heart almost jumped out of my throat and the blast rang in my ears. I stared at the bones as they fell from the sky, other appendages lying around. Hell, a pelvis hit my shoulder! It was around then I snapped out of it to scramble back, only for my hands to sink into the sand and for me to dunk myself under the water.

I couldn't swim. Yeah, I wasn't fond of water and it sure as hell wasn't fond of me. I was in quick sand, so every attempt at pulling my hands out was fruitless and only succeeded in losing precious oxygen. It was gone fast. I wasn't good at holding my breath either. I could never be like those people who could pull off five minutes and dive in for more.

I was panicking. I was flipping drowning.

And then something clasped the back of my shirt, pulling me up and out of the surface. I sputtered, gasping as I was suspended in midair like a toy. My vision was blurry for a moment and I couldn't quite make out my savior, and I hoped to the high heavens it wasn't one of the surviving monsters.

But no, as my sight cleared, it was not a zombie.

It was actually a blonde girl with an eye patch, a single ruby eye blinking curiously at me. She was dressed, as far as I could put it, like a ninja. Dark clothing, tunic and trousers and oh wow, were those knifes?! And she had a giant ass smile too.

"Hey, you're pretty stupid, kid."

After all the events that had passed by so quickly, nearly getting eaten by a horde of zombies, having a nail shoved into my face, the ocean almost sucking me dry, and then a blonde pirate ninja tells me I'm stupid, I knew. I was crazy.

So I passed out.

Next Chapter: Drunken Assassin. Or that awkward moment when you wake up and your not wearing your face.

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