Here is part 2.
Sorry if it feels a bit unpolished. I had a long day.
Andrias pulled his arm back, dragging the sword out of Marcy's body, not even bothering to catch the girl as she felt.
Sasha's roar was so earsplitting it hurt her throat. She charged, twin blades in each hand, and made a line towards the newt. She'd to be fast before he got a chance to react… One strike was all she needed.
The swords went straight through Andrias' knee, bypassing the armor and getting stuck in his flesh. Andrias growled as blood flowed from the wound, but refused to fall. Fortunately, Grime got Sasha's back, and as the girl dodged the king's riposte, Grime struck Andrias' hurt knee with his war hammer. Andrias tumbled on his back and hit the floor with a world shattering THUD! The force of the hit sent Sasha's swords flying. She made a run to recover them. This is it! Andrias was down and the coup-de-grace was Sasha's! She dashed towards the newt, ready to end this once and for all.
As she charged, Sasha stepped on something wet. She took notice of her surroundings. Marcy's body was nearby. Reality felt on Sasha, in the same way one falls down a set of stairs. She was stepping on Marcy's blood, forming in a large puddle on the floor, with Marcy at the epicenter. Sasha held her breath until the girl twitched. She was alive! Sasha sheathed her swords and knelt by Marcy's side. She flipped the girl to inspect the chest wound.
Oh Frog, there was blood everywhere, streaming freely from Marcy's chest and back.
Sasha cut a large piece of her cape. Putting those first aid classes to use, she tied the cloth tightly around Marcy's chest. Yet even as Sasha put all her weight into the wound, blood just kept coming.
Through all of this, Marcy was whining and twitching as she tried to form words and failed. Sasha didn't know a person could bleed so much and remain conscious.
"Don't talk, kept your strength." Sasha's said, since she couldn't heal and console Marcy at the same time.
Despite her words, Marcy lifted her hand to brush Sasha's arm. Sasha let the girl's weak grip pull her forward, until her ear was next to Marcy's mouth.
When Marcy spoke, Sasha's blood froze up.
People have this very firm concept of how waking up from a nightmare is supposed to be. They picture it as jumping from the bed, face shining with shivering sweat and screaming their lungs out, and until today, Sasha had believed it was true.
Instead of all that, she woke up by flipping her eyes open, heart ready to jump out of her chest. Her arm was wet with drooling and her body ached all over —specially her neck. For a few minutes she was frozen in place, too scared of the world to make a move. But as she lay still, she found herself drifting back to sleep. Back to the screaming and the blood.
She pushed herself up. Big mistake; her legs were like wet spaghetti and she crash-landed over the table, throwing the rest of the coins and glass to the floor, creating the most head splitting symphony. After several attempts to get up, her arms finally lifted her into vertical position.
Everything was dark —the candles having burnt down a while ago. Sasha began to walk, one foot after the other in ridiculous long steps, grabbing the curtain for stability. Of course, Sasha underestimated the weight a teenage girl with steel armor could have. So when she tumbled and felt to the ground she broke the curtains free of its hinges.
Sasha hit the ground like a steel anvil. She sneaked her head from under the curtain. Grime was knocked out cold over the sack of flour he used as a bed. For a moment Sasha thought he was dead, until she heard him snore.
Now that she knew Grime still lived, Sasha picked herself up, curtain and all, and tried to go outside. Some air would fresh her up.
She went to the front door. This proved futile since it was barricaded with planks. Then she tried the backdoor, which Grime had left slightly open, thank Frog —Sasha wasn't in a state to try to find the hidden lock. She rammed the door open and stepped outside.
If Sasha thought she couldn't felt sicker, now she was proven wrong by all laws of physics —and her own body.
The night air was getting through the gaps in her armor, chilling her to the bones. Also all of the creatures that sleep through the days had woken up at night, filling the air with the buzzing of dragonflies, fireflies, and all other kinds of flies, all of them looking like car lights flying too fast for Sasha's brain to process. Everything was bathed in the sickening red moon's light.
Yep. This is drunk, thought Sasha, more annoyed than anything at her current state. The world was too much to face it standing up, so she leant against the wall and slid down until her butt hit the ground. She wrapped herself with the curtain, repurposed now as a blanket. It shouldn't take long for Sasha to regain her composure. Just a few seconds to catch her breath —and wait for the world to stop spinning, if only she could get some peace and quiet.
THUMP!
And there was Life, messing with her again.
The shaking of the ground threw Sasha forward, further entangling her inside the curtains. Alerted, she crawled free of her cotton prison and sprung into action, inspecting her surroundings. Her heat skipped a beat.
A giant form stood at the end of the backyard, by the trees. It was wide and tall; its form casting a large shapeless shadow on the ground. Nothing that big could've sneaked up on her, no matter how drunk she was! It must've come from above, thus explaining the loud thud.
So, the stupid newt finally sent his frobots to do his dirty work? Fine for me! thought Sasha and drew her swords, pointing one at her sword enemy.
Er, sworn enemy. It didn't look much like a frobot, but nothing looked like anything to Sasha in her state, anyway.
"Hey you! Trash compactor!" Sasha slurred valiantly. "You want a piece of dis? You think you're mean 'nuff to take me down?" she began to march, using one sword as a walking stick.
The final strike could come at any moment. A clawed hand tightening at her neck, a laser burning a hole into her chest, anything. Sasha kept walking and she kept waiting to be struck down, but nothing happened.
"What're ya waiting fur?!" she said, in a fit of hiccups. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all so you might as well kill me now! Come on you coward! Just do it!"
The creature tilted its head to the side, as if it didn't even know what Sasha was talking about. Fury rose up in her chest and Sasha lunged forward. It was a direct hit! The sword impaled itself on her enemy.
Sasha was ready to celebrate, but as she tried to recover her sword, she discovered it was stuck. She put both hands on her enemy to try to push him down. Weird… the creature wasn't cold and metallic as a frobot should be, but rough and sturdy like…
Sasha shook her head several times, focusing her eyes. A tall, brown and green figure appeared in front of her, with a sword stuck in its bark. Sasha whined pathetically.
Good job Sasha. You just killed a tree, she thought, utterly miserable. 'Now his brothers will be out for my blood.'
Surprisingly, the creature was still there. Sasha had missed it completely. On closer inspection, Sasha found out the creature had feathers. And it was a bird. What little metal it wore was easily recognizable as the Newtopian Ranger Armor.
Sasha lifted her head up until her neck cracked. "'Sup," she greeted the avian face.
Marcy's bird steed tilted its head and greeted Sasha with a soft coo. What was its name again? It was an old person's name mixed with a bird type.
"Jim Hawk? John-cking bird? Joe… Sparrow?"
The bird chirped loudly, making Sasha wince. "Dude! Too loud!"
Joe Sparrow chirped again, softer this time. He had shiny, fluffy feathers. It reminded Sasha of a pillow. She buried her face on the bird's chest, proving it was as soft as it looked. Marcy must've dozed off on this same chest a thousand times.
Sasha caught a bird for Marcy, once. Well, 'caught' is just an expression. Marcy had watched a documentary about pigeons one Friday night. By Monday morning, she was a bird expert, but her parents weren't all that enthusiastic about her having a pet.
'They are rats with wing and carry diseases,' they said. Psst, what do they know? Dogs can carry rabies, but people have them as pet nowadays. Marcy had been devastated, however. She was dying to have a bird. That's why, one afternoon after school, Sasha walked nonchalantly into a pet-shop to get her one.
Getting the pigeon out of the cage was easy. Hid it inside her jacket as she ran from the angry store clerk was not. But damn was it worth it! Marcy's face lightened up at her feathery present. They put him in a cage and Marcy sat down in front of him, just watching it for a whole hour. And as Marcy stared the bird, Sasha stared at Marcy.
BANG! The door banged open. Joe Sparrow backed away suddenly, and Sasha couldn't catch herself in time. She hit the floor like a plank, face right in the dirt. Ouch.
"Lieutenant!"
Double ouch. Maybe if Sasha kept still the moss will cover her up, grass will grow over her and she could become food for something pretty. Like a flower. Or a carnivorous plant.
The ground trembled —and Sasha with it— as Grime sat down by her side. Sasha made a turn to face the sky. Too many stars, way more than back at home. Marcy could have named them all. She probably had the whole Amphibia night sky mapped, or was in the process of. That's another one for the bucket list that'll never be completed.
Grime made all sort of ridiculous noises as he tried to figure what to say. "How... uh… how's it going, Lieutenant? I woke up and searched for you." Grime lifted several fingers. "Searched in the kitchen. In the living room. And the kitchen…"
Sasha rolled her eyes. Grime resembled a giant, bald, one-eyed smiley baby, with the bottle of booze in his hand instead of milk. It was a bog-grog bottle too, which meant the rest of the Fire Spit was already in his gigantic gut.
"Where's your other sword? The one I gave you?" he asked.
Sasha lifted a finger. "Killed a tree."
Grime followed Sasha's finger and whined. "Oh crud… Now its brothers will be out for our blood." He lifted the bottle to his lips. He threw most of the booze over himself before finally getting a drink. "What's up with the bird?"
"'S Marcy's."
"Mmh. He must have followed our smell here."
Sasha felt like her brain was kicking its way out of her skull, trying to run away from this conversation. She was sure birds have a terrible sense of smell.
Of course, she was also 'sure' talking toads weren't a thing, but there she was.
"Looks hungry to me," Grime mused.
That was hardly a hard guess. Joe Sparrow was persistently pecking the ground. He scooted a bit to the left. Peck a little more. Bit to the right. Peck peck peck. Finally he dove his peck into the loose dirt and emerged with a worm. Of course, this being Amphibia, the worm was python-sized with sharp teeth (probably fire-breathing too). After a short battle of strengths, Joe whipped its head backwards. The worm disappeared inside its throat.
Both Sasha and Grime winced. At least he can take care of himself. Which is more than I can say about someone else.
Grime cleared his throat, with as much efficiency as one clears up the mud from a swamp. "Listen Sash. Back there, at the house? I just wanted… I've been meaning to tell you something."
"What is it?" she inquired.
"It's, uh…" said Grime, trying hard to remember what it was. "I think we should give your friend a proper funeral. That's what It is."
A bright light flashed in Sasha's memories. A burning sword. The blood everywhere.
"What the Hell is that supposed to mean?" she said, flashing her teeth at the toad.
"Listen. Y-you gotta bury her, Sash. You can't just… You can't carry her corpse with you everywhere."
"Carry her- Are you fucking kidding me?"
Grime held his hands up. "Bad wording, bad wording!" he tried to excuse himself, but it was too late
Sasha sat up. She was stone-hard sober now, if not physically, at least in mind.
"That's just rich," she laughed coldly. "Tell me then, Captain, what the Hell should I bury? Do you see a body here? No! Because we left her behind because SOMEONE couldn't help being harmed."
"What?! No! You're not putting this on me, alright?" Grime snapped. "The coup was a bust. Andrias was getting his second wind. We had to pull back or get killed in the process. Or do you think it was funny to me to abandon Marcy? Or the Toad Lords? Of course not! But what could I've done?"
Grime made a lot of sense. He was trying his best to sound rational. Sasha hated that —nobody was allowed to be rational but her, and she didn't want to.
"I could've done something more," Sasha lamented.
"There was nothing to do, Sasha. You saw what Andrias did to Marcy. She didn't need first aid; she needed a doctor —and maybe that wouldn't have been enough." Grime reassured her. "Come on, you know Marcy wasn't dumb. She knew what was gonna happen, and she knew you were too stiff-necked to left her behind, which is why she asked you to do it. You were following her wishes, nothing more."
That was a lie. Well, technically, it was true, but it was a fucking lie. Sasha gave up. For the first time in her life, she threw the towel on something, and it was on her best friend's life.
She closed her eyes tight close. She wasn't going to cry. Not now, not ever.
"Fuck you, Grime," was Sasha's reply.
Seconds ticked by with no noise but the howling wind. Sasha mouth was dry and tasted like ash. Not for the words, no; Sasha had said worse things to Grime. It was the vile, the poison on her voice that shock her. There was something unmistakably rotten inside Sasha. Like everything that came out of her will always be tainted.
Grime was as stunned as she was. He turned pale, before shifting into a deep red.
"That's it!" Grime growled, throwing the bottle of bog-grog smashing against a rock. "I tried to talk with you, didn't work. Tried to get you to sleep, didn't work. Got you drunk on that throat-burning stale water that cost me a fortune, and it didn't work! And when I finally get you to open up, you treat me like s-s-garbage!"
"Stop tryin' then! I don't need your compasin… compashun… Bah! I'm outta here."
Sasha got up on wobbly legs and took off. She was vaguely aware of Grime calling her name, but she didn't cared. Aimlessly she strode around the backyard; blood stains tainting her thoughts, her hands, her very being. She could hear Marcy's pathetic whisper; see the sad expression on her face as she said…
Sasha snapped her eyes shut again, mind overwhelmed with noise. She lost her focus and crash landed on the floor, for the second time today. Sasha roared and her hands went to her head, grabbing big chunks of her hair and pulling and pulling until the blood stains turned into static and pain.
THUMP! The ground trembled around her and behind her, and before she could move, she was pushed against a strong, feathery chest. Joe Sparrow surrounded Sasha with its wings. It felt like being tucked in a giant, breathing bed where nothing could reach her. Like everything, from Amphibia, to Toad Tower and Andrias himself was nothing but a dream, and soon she would woke up and text her friends to tell her about the weird dream she had, without letting them know how much it had scared her.
It was a lie, of course. Yet the sudden interruption brought Sasha back from her 'little moment'.
Calmly, she pulled away from the bird's chest. Grime was by her side again, struggling to remain on foot. He'd that scolding 'we've got to talk' look.
"Oh don't you even start." Sasha spat, sensing the imminent nag. "Don't you think I don't want t-to say goodbye to Marcy? Its just… it's stupid. All o' it." Sasha's hid her face on her knees and her hands into her hair. Somewhere along the lie she'd lost her hair tie, and her blonde mane now felt loosely over her shoulders.
"Marcy, she… She wasn't like me, OK? She was smart. Real smart. She never had to cheat on a test, o-or sweet talk someone so they'll do her homework. She didn't need to." Pain struck Sasha's chest so deeply she nearly lost it. "She was gonna do something with her life. Really going places, you know? And me? I'd be the friend that pops at her door every month to ask for a few bucks." Sasha laughed drily. "Maybe its better this way. She didn't deserve that. Or any of this."
Sasha had to stop herself from spiraling down. Every time she closed her eyes, Marcy was there. Being pierced by Andrias' sword, or bleeding on the ground, or extending her arms trying to reach Sasha but she was too far away. She always was.
Grime's slimy hand brushed the side of her cheek. "Shucks, don't sell yourself so low, Sasha." He gently pushed his fist into Sasha's cheek. "A die-hard, silver-tongued, Fire Spit-drinker like you? You could've gotten everything you wanted."
Sasha considered that, going further down her spiral.
"I want my friends back." She gasped for air; tear were growing in her eyes. She was a dam ready to break down…
And there it was. She opened her mouth to gasp and moan, when warm vile rose from her chest. Sasha leaned forward just in time for the first wave of vomit.
"Oh crud." Grime lamented but didn't moved away. "Come on, get up. Lean over me. Come on Lieutenant." He put her arm under Sasha's armpit and got up, forcing Sasha to her feet just in time for the second wave.
Sasha could hardly breathe, and everything from the head down hurt.
"I… I want my friends back," she let out, not sure if she was even forming the words right. "I want Marcy. Want Anne. I want them back, Grime." The air kept getting out of her chest and refusing to get in. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "Grime, what did I do? Grime…"
Grime shushed her, voice softer than what she thought he was capable of. "Shh, I know kid. I know." His hand rubbed circles on the girl's back. "That's just how life is. The brave ones die, and us wiseguys keep on."
Sasha tilted her head forward, searching her Captain's face for any trace of a joke or sarcasm. She found nothing. She opened her mouth to protest, but the third wave of vomit came out, burning Sasha's throat. Grime held her hair away from her face as she let everything out. Vomit, tears, everything gross that she was holding was now out.
Minutes passed and wave after wave poured out of her. The last few were nothing but water and bile.
Slowly, as if afraid to break her, Grime helped Sasha get into a more vertical position.
"There there. It's all out now," he said, one hand patting her back, and the other holding her by the arm. Every touch was too much. Way more than what Sasha deserved.
"Come on. Let's go for a walk now. It'll do you good. Gonna do me good. Even the bird can come."
Joe Sparrow chirped happily beside them.
"Then we'll go to sleep and tomorrow..." Grime hesitated. "Tomorrow we'll hold a funeral for Marcy. And everything will be fine. How does that sound?"
The familiar feeling of safety nested inside Sasha's head. That was a plan. Plans were good. As long as Sasha followed the steps, she knew she would end up somewhere else. With luck, a better place.
"Sounds good," said Sasha, not giving a fuck about how weak, how tired she sounded. It was just her and Grime, anyway, and he was not one to tell secrets. "And Grime? Thanks."
Grime held her closer to his chest, as he took her to a walk around the backyard. "Anytime, kid."
And there it is.
Man, hopefully the rest of the week will be calmer so i can put more effort into these chapters.
In any case, i hope you guys liked it. See you tomorrow!