A/N: Alright audience, this is more just a prologue. I wanted to show the character before I go into too many adventures and trust me, there'll be plenty. Ok, I'm off to start writing more. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: Bethesda are owners of Skyrim and all its characters, any depiction of them in this fiction will have words derived from their product and my own invention. I only own three characters and they are: Jarek Only-Son, Léna Kallaish and Kagaroth 'The Hacker' Dark-Born.
Chapter 1 - Two Deaths in a Day
It is too late for this shit, my foot stamping on the accelerator in response to my frustration. The car shudders and hesitates before lurching forward, exhaust fumes billowing behind. I look to the mirror and sigh in irritation. Piece of shit! My thoughts screaming as the blue cloud lazily rises behind the car.
Once back in the workshop I slam the door. Silently fuming, I organise my tools for the job. "So what's the verdict Jimmy?" My foreman calls, his thick accent with a hint of…was that amusement?
Not trusting the words that would spill from my tongue, I thrust my fist in the air and make a gesture towards the superior voice. The silence that follows is a small relief as I begin to remove the upper components to the engine.
"Just has to be a Friday!" I yell, wrapping a rag around my bleeding knuckles. Looking at where my hand had slipped, I pour thinners onto the rag. I hiss in pain as the solvent soaks through to my fresh cuts. "At least they'll be clean," I grumble to myself, picking up a spanner and attacking the engine once more.
I let the bonnet fall onto its latch, a satisfying clunk echoes through the now empty workshop, long shadows streaking the floor from the setting sun. "George!" I see my foreman groggily rise from the desk in his office. Turning the ignition I roll my eyes "typical," I drive towards the front, rolling down the window as I wait for George to waddle the small distance from his office. "I'll be back in five minutes" I assure him, "road test." He nods in response, understanding my thinning patience.
I drive onto the highway and wait for a break in the traffic. Seeing my chance, I open the throttle. "That's more like it!" I cheer, the engine growling with no hint of a shudder and the car increasing in speed. A smile breaking across my lips as I look in the mirror, not even a wisp of blue.
My frustrations ebb away as I continue the road test. "Well, the worst is over now," I pat the dash of the car, satisfied with my handiwork.
At that moment, something grabs my attention. I've never been one for superstition but I've learnt to trust my instincts. Then I see it. From the corner of my eye, the truck grows in size as the distance between me and it dwindles in mere seconds.
"Christ!" The impact shatters the glass as the car lurks sideways and begins to roll.
Up, down, up, down. My limbs flailing like a rag doll would, slivers of glass cut my arms and face as I'm knocked from floor to ceiling.
As quickly as it had started, it stops. The ringing in my ears needed to stop, I need to think. I can feel wetness on my forehead. I lift a hand to clear the loose strands of my hair that now cling to my face. Blood drips from my fingers, more than there should be from a few glass cuts.
My sight begins to blur and the pain slowly subsides from the broken and battered parts of my body. I'm dying. The thought taking form and sinking in to my failing heart.
I don't know why I think this situation funny but my lips broaden to a gleaming grin. "Never doing overtime again," I croak, my eyelids flutter and close and I know no more.
Cold. Why am I cold? I hug my chest, hands chafing my shoulders for any heat they may give. My eyes snap open. White, all I see is white. Am I in heaven? I process the thought, touching the soft snow with my cheek then abruptly lunging to my feet. Cold.
Pine trees loom from above me, thick branches full of needles rustling in the wind. I crunch through the snow, more amazed than lost. "Where the hell am I?" I ponder, circling the area. My flannelette soaked through, I slowly undid the garment and wrapped the sleaves around my waist. I began to feel like myself again. Relishing the cold, bare chest prickling with the breeze, I headed to what I thought as south. The sun gilded behind white clouds didn't help my direction in the utmost.
Trudging through the snow, I found nothing. No sign of life, not even a hare. All that surrounded me were these dark and foreboding branches of pine and the cold snow beneath my boots. "I always said Hell had frozen over" I muttered to myself, shivering as a wet branch scraped my bare back.
Then I heard it. My instinct peaked with caution at the noise. Slowly, I turned to face the coming threat that had growled at me. Among the trees, no more than a chains length away, a great white wolf stared at me. Its dark eyes focused on me, teeth glinting in the sunlight.
"Oh shit" I stiffened against the nearest tree, waiting for what the beast would do. It reared its head and made an awful almost sorrowful howl. I didn't wait. That was my only chance and I took it. I ran, through trees and brush, not caring for the cold or damp. I didn't shiver, I didn't stop. There was no way I was stopping if that creature was following me.
I kept my pace hoping to lose the beast. Panting as I ran, Jesus I gotta quit smoking, the familiar touch of phlegm at the back of my throat. I heard the foot falls behind me, I didn't look, there was no time to look. I had to run, I had to escape. I ran headlong through the clearing of trees and abruptly stopped.
Looking left then right then back up to the cliff face, "trapped like a rat," I gasped, wrenching over onto my knees. A low growl woke me from my contemplation, snapping my head to look at the snarling wolf padding towards me. I glanced to my side directions again, hoping for some sign of escape, to no avail.
The wolf stood before me, baring its wicked fangs and letting out another guttural snarl. For that instant I didn't move. I knew my options, die lying down or die fighting. I lifted my clenched fists and stared at the beast.
"Well big boy, you wanna play?" I sighed, edging my footing for what was to come. "Then let's go" I motioned towards the wolf. "Come at me you overgrown mutt!"
The white wolf didn't hesitate at the invitation. Sharp claws and gnashing teeth closed their distance towards me. Patiently I waited, knowing I had one chance. As the enormous beast lunged, I pivoted on my back foot, letting my right swing with momentum. I felt the connection and followed through with my kick, letting out the breath I'd been holding as I stamped back to the snow.
The wolf yelped as it hit the cliff side but I wasn't done. I charged the limping creature, barrelling into it with all I could muster. Landing on its back and me atop, I began to throw punches, aiming at its snout while it flailed, paws desperately trying to rid me from my position.
I didn't think, I just kept pounding the beast. It lurked sideways and I was thrown from my target. Snapping my head to where I once was, the wolf had gained its footing and pounced on me. I stuck out my arm in defence only to have it bitten by my foe. I cried in pain underneath the wolf, flailing in my attempt to find any ground.
I felt it then. My fingers curled around the jagged edges, ripping it from the ground. I pulled my left arm closer, the wolf still hanging on to my bloodied forearm. "Go to hell bitch" I hissed with fury, swinging my free arm with the rock I'd found into the wolf's skull. It sagged sideways, but I wasn't done. I hit it again and again. Every ounce of my fatigue had gone, I wanted blood and I was getting it.
I pushed off the ground, a great sigh of relief filling every muscle. I had done it. The wolf lay dead at my feet, its maw shattered and tongue lolling obscenely. Keep moving, it wasn't my voice but I knew from my own mind I had to move.
Ripping my flannelette, I bandaged my arm. The pain was unbearable but I could not halt on the matter. I shouldn't feel pain, I'm dead. The thought slowly crossed my mind, what the hell is going on? I looked at my forearm again, feeling unease as the pain only one of the living could feel.
Flakes of white drift with the slight breeze, some catching into my long, mattered hair. Tucking loose strands behind my ear, I continue my trek, not the faintest clue of where I was heading or even where I was.
I studied the scenery, taking in the clear, brilliantly white snow. The smell of pine, the chirping unseen birds amongst the trees. This is too real, I look down at my injured arm, the ripped flannelette stained dark red from my own blood. "Too real to be dead."
I wandered aimlessly, pondering my predicament. If I wasn't dead then I needed help. Food and fresh water became strong priorities, my stomach growling to emphasise the point. I needed a doctor. My injured arm would be infected if not already and I had no pleasure at the thought of it being removed. "Where the hell am I gonna find a doctor on a bloody snow covered mountain?"
The day grew long, orange streaks filled the sky from the setting sun giving new life and exuberant colours to the white landscape. I would have thought it beautiful if not for my growing hunger. I could almost feel my stomach eating away from the inside out.
"…into the cart" a gruff voice ordered in the distance.
Voices? My head snapped up. Human voices. Tired and hungry, I half ran half stumbled towards these sounds of my salvation.
Bursting through the trees, I found my self on a stone packed road and ahead the cart that the heavenly voice had spoken of. A wooden cart?
Men were being pushed aboard, my elation quickly changing to despair. Their hands were bound and one of them gagged. "Not good," I murmured, stepping back slowly.
"Hey you, stop." A man on horseback had seen me.
Run. A whisper in my head but my feet disobeyed. The man urged the horse towards me. He wore armour like out of a medieval fairytale. It was almost comical if not for the blood spattered sword on his belt. Move! The whisper had commanded and this time my whole body complied.
I ran through the trees, not daring to look back. My thick boots leaving divots in the snow. The graces of keeping warm I s'pose.
I could here galloping hooves behind me. "I said stop," the man commanded and something hit me in the back of the head. Something hard, metallic and almost sharp.
My knees touched the ground and my face buried itself into the snow. I could see only black. Again?