Disclaimer: Worm is the property of Wildbow.
My memory wasn't gone, exactly. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my mind, but only managed to make a few superficial dents. Trouble was, it was never that good to begin with.
I didn't remember this alleyway, that I knew for sure. I definitely didn't have any tattoos, either. Yet here I was, in an alley with a "C" on my upper left arm.
Now what does that remind me of? Everything felt hazy. Actually, the sledgehammer analogy could probably be extended to my body as well. Maybe I'd tried working out again, and passed out? And then some joker came along and tattooed me just for kicks? No, that didn't make sense.
There was some sort of commotion nearby. I became aware of a ringing in my ears, preventing me from hearing exactly what was going. I got up shakily and began stumbling towards the noise.
What if it's a fight or something? Could be. This looks like it might be the wrong side of the train tracks. Maybe I'd be better off phoning for help. I had a wallet, and a phone, but there was something distinctly unfamiliar about them. If I can use the wi-fi holy hell that's a fireball.
The blast headed straight for me, too wide to dodge. I threw myself to the ground, waited for the pain, but it never came.
Did it veer upward, or something? Much of my surroundings were scorched, but my immediate vicinity was clear. Lucky, for once.
I glanced in the direction it came from to see - is that guy on fire? Great. In spite of my own problems, I figured I had to help - especially if this state had a mandatory good Samaritan law. Are those even real? Or did I just see it on TV that one time?
I moved towards the building he was on, but before I could even think about how to get to the roof, the burning man jumped, practically throwing himself towards me. He screamed, or rather bellowed, incoherently as he fell. I screamed too, when he splattered against the pavement. In what seemed like a sick joke, the fire seemed to have gone out shortly before he landed.
Morbid fascination led me to approach the corpse. It was hideously disfigured, and though I had no medical training, I suspected much of the damage wasn't due to the fire or the fall. Particularly what I saw around his nether regions.
What kind of sick fuck would do this?
I became aware of footsteps, and realized I was about to find out.
I thought of running, but my knees felt weak from the idea of it. The footfalls became heavier, quicker. I was bracing myself, but flinched anyway at the sight of -
A giant bug? No, I'm being stupid again. Someone in a bug costume. Someone in a bug costume who likes mutilating people and setting them on fire. The pyromaniacal Jeffery Dahmer looked from the body to me. At this point, I figured things couldn't get any worse.
"Did you.. do this?" I asked. Eloquent as usual, dammit. At least try to sound dignified at your last stand.
But the bug person - bug woman, it looked like, didn't sound any more impressive than me when she spoke belatedly.
"It shouldn't have - he should be regenerating," she stammered.
I began to back away. "You killed him," Double dammit. Think before you speak.
I became aware of others, nearby. Four people in bizarre costumes, two guys, two girls, watching us. Also, some giant, four legged monsters. This sight however, freaked me out only briefly.
I collapsed with relief. I wasn't a witness to brutal murder in a strange city. I had just become completely insane.
One of them, dressed in black, approached Bug woman. Extended his hand, as if to shake, but she didn't go for. He was thanking her. For what, for killing-
"We didn't really have any good ideas, when we heard Lung was coming after us. Ended up trying to, you know, wing it. Worked out a lot better than I'd hoped."
Well, that's super interesting, but I'll just be heading off now... My sarcastic inner dialogue came to a halt as I processed his words for a second time. Lung. Lung.
"Lung?" I managed, weakly, "Of the Asian Bad Boys?"
Another good decision on my part, drawing the attention of the four, the Undersiders, I remembered. The small-time gang of villains from the fictional web serial. I assigned a higher probability to the utterly lost my mind scenario.
"Something's not right," interjected Tattletale. "I can't really get a read off of her." She seemed to be concentrating, backed up a few steps. "But we gotta go, ASAP." I could only imagine what her information granting powers were telling her about me.
"That's right," replied Grue, their de facto leader at this point in time. "You might want to get out of here," he said to Bug woman - Skitter - well, to Taylor, as she hadn't picked her name yet. "The Protectorate's gonna be here soon, and they'll have a witness." He gestured towards me. "They catch a bunch of villains standing over a dead body, well... it's something you'd rather avoid, right?"
Grue suddenly did a double take. He glanced at his hands.
"Step back," Tattletale said. She was already mounted onto one of Bitch's monstrous dogs.
Grue took her advice, and as he did, a small amount of darkness billowed forth. He muttered something to Tattletale as he mounted. She replied, but it was inaudible as they sped off.
Taylor gave no observable reaction to being mistaken for a villain, but I knew what was going through her head. Ok, time to think before you speak.
"Um, just so you know," I began, "I didn't think you were a villain when I saw you."
"Really?" her reply was half desperate enough to want to believe it, half skeptical, based, no doubt on my initial reaction to her. But it was the truth, in a manner of speaking.
"Totally," I replied. "I mean, yes, I did think you might have been a homicidal maniac -"
She sank to her knees.
Maybe, from now on, I should just keep my damn mouth shut.