Nobody's Memories
Chapter 4 - A Rather One-Sided fight to the Death

Shit shit shit thats a dragon thats a dragon why is a dragon crushing me to death?!

"EEEEEAAAAAAAAAAUCH!"

Currently on top of me was a roaring, shrieking, cock-a-doodling... green,enlarged chicken's head? What? One of its clawed wings raised, falling down as a blur in an attempt to crush my head. Time seemed to slow once more,allowing me to shove it off of me, the creature recoiling in slow-motion, its wing thrown off course; it was thrown off enough that I could roll aside, missing its now wobbling wing as it hopped back. Recovering from my position sprawled out on the dirt road,I push myself up and onto my knees before jumping back, prepared to roll out of the way of another attack... only to find the chicken-headed dragon still in the air, leaping backwards. Its every action was had slowed, as though it were traveling through warm molasses. Not that I had ever seen something travel through molasses, much less molasses itself, but an interesting observation - that time had yet to decelerate for me. It gave me plenty of time to observe the creature in detail - I hadn't exactly gotten much time to do so earlier, what with it roaring and spitting on my face while on top of me and all.

My earlier description wasn't the most inaccurate, but definitely needed a major revision; was it scaly? Yes, it was, but not completely covered. In fact, only its underside had scales, and they weren't even green; they were a dark, putrid yellow color, with both a shade and physical description of the kind one expects from a rooster's talons. Was it green? Oh, most certainly, it was. Covered in feathers so dark a green they were practically black, when they weren't covered in an odd pink-brown baggy flesh, originating from the crest and... Gizzard? Gullet? Whatever the fleshy blob underneath its beak was. Because oh yes, it had a Rooster's face - a browned, murderous rooster that looked like it could, would, and had eaten its smaller kin whole. This entire nasty package was all thrown together into the basic shape of a wyvern, wings of the same fleshy consistency as its gizzard, rippling in the wind, claws, talons, and all, a sweeping yet short plume currently splayed out towards me. All in all, it looked like something out of a Monster Hunter game, but I didn't recognize it... Perhaps it was a creature from the Frontier that had been added since the last time I had trawled through the wiki? No, that wasn't it...

It had just landed when I realized what world I was in. How could I not, after all? I had just killed one of them less than twenty-four hours ago, before devolving into a trance-like state where I rushed through KHII's ending. It was a goddamned cockatrice.

I was in the Witcher.

I was in the Witcher!

...I was in the Witcher.

Fuck! I'm in the Witcher!

An expression of confusion flickers over the Cockatrices face, it's gaze still locked on where I had been laying, oh-so-slowly turning to find me as I think. So then, if i was in the Witcher, then that made those walking corpses earlier Ghouls, which meant my earlier assement of 'Meh, I can take em.' Could be rescinded. It certainly still applied to, say, half of the enemies - all the humans without magic, the lower tier monsters, some of the higher tier ones as well. At least up until I figured out what, exactly, i could do as a nobody if i had powers at all, when the 'Easy-to-kill' to 'Run run run!' enemy ratio started to pan out some more, and even then not so much, there was so, so many different things that could screw me if I was taken by surprise it was hardly funny. That wasnt even considering what I might be expected to do if i encountered the wild hunt in its whole, because they were bullshit.

So much Old Magic...

I cut off my thought process for the moment, as time begins to return to normal; the Cockatrices eyes narrowing as they look at me. A quick pat down of my bag reveals no holes, and I drop it, not willing to loose any of my newly-aquired crowns. knew that The Witcher himself never seemed to have enough of them, though that may just have been because I was an impulse buyer more than anything. Shifting back into my cringe-worthy combat stance,I shift my foot back, readying myself. Because yes, there it was - the cockatrice had taken the same stance it had in the game when it would leap into the air, making a sweeping motion with its claws. It would leap right about ... now.

However, rather than roll under the Cockatrice or use the Aard sign to shove it away from me like I might've in the game, I instead lashed out with my arms, leaving myself wide open to attack; My plan was to meet the Cockatrice head on. A thousand pounds of Chicken even MCdonalds would turn down crashed into me once more, my arms meeting its talon's, their edges failing to dig into my skin or gain purchase against my robes; I tightened my grips around the monster's talons, even as the force from its impact shoving us both back several meters, kicking up dust from the dirt road. The cockatrice begins to struggle, shoving againts me and trying in vain to tear me apart, roaring at me, spittle meeting my face once more. I wince,not because the massive amount of slobber was toxic or acidic; I had done so because it felt like I had decided to dunk my face into a lukewarm bucket of soapy water.

It still wasn't enough to make me loose my grip, but y'know. Something that gross was worth paying attention to.

Realizing it couldn't beat me in a straight up contest of strength, the Cockatrice tried to back away, shrieking a bit as it did so, succeeding in taking a few steps back - pulling me with it, and off the ground. Scoffing a bit, I solidified my position by slamming my feet down upon the ground, digging them in deep as it continued to pull and halting the Cockatrice in its tracks within a few moments. Its face twisted into one of fear as it shrieked more frantically, trying to pull away.

A Giant, Grotesque chicken wearing a face of Human fear. Rather grimly, I took time to note that it must have learned from a more... personal experience what a human's looked like, to have naturally assumed it with its life on the what I expected to see when I woke up this morning, put at least I could cross it off my bucket list... wait, could I? I technically died, so did I even have a Bucket List? I mean, I hadn't had one be-

"AAAAAUUURAAARCH!"

Oh right, giant doom-chicken fleeing for its life. Ignoring its struggling, I tugged it closer, tensing as i bend my knee's, lifting it over my head...

...and with a single motion, throw it over my back, directly into and through several trees. Turning to face it, I watch it slowly struggle to its feet, wings spread as it prepares to flee for its life.

"Oh no you don't!" I cry, sprinting after it. Now, in the game, Monsters had been all but immune to mundane weaponry, silver weapons and magic being the common weakness of them all. Sometimes Magic didn't even work, though if it was simply because of the relative weakness of a Witcher's signs compared to true magic or because they possessed a true, total immunity, I didn't know. I did know that it was, however, the reason a Witcher carried two swords - "Steel for Humans, Silver for Monsters.". I had already killed two ghouls, proving that my fist alone would be enough for the lesser beasts of this world. However, just the same as the talons of the Cockatrice hadn't pierced my skin, they hadn't broken against it, and the skull and skin of the ghouls had put up far more resistance than they should have given the distance I had thrown the second, meaning that they still displayed a not insignificant degree of resistance. I wanted to figure out exactly how far that resistance went, and thusly aimed to stop the Cockatrice from flying away non fatally.

I needed the Cockatrice to stay alive so I could kill it, after all.

Time seemed to slow once more, my body moving as it normally would as I dashed forward, intent on stopping it; with a single leap, I was in front of it, time accelerating once more as I watch its face twist into one of shock as my hand shoots out, aiming for its chest far too fast for it to react-
*Splurch!*
And pain overtakes its surprise, my hand deep within its gooey chest and far past its ribcage as I seek its heart, navigating my way around its fairly alien biology.
*bathump*
Found it.

Within the same second my empty hand entered its chest, it came out, the Cockatrice's heart clutched within, bloody veins still pumping blood in and out. I chose to solve this little problem with a sharp kick to the beast's face, the eye popping against my heel as it lets out one last shriek before spasming, laying on the grass and bleeding to death, a permanent expression of fear to rest upon its face until it was inevitably eaten by ghouls. Looking at my shoes heel - for that matter, at my shoe for the first time - I try and fail to wipe the green goop that was the eye of the Cockatrice off of its silver-white edges. Sighing as I rested my foot back against the ground, shrugging the crushed heart out of my hand, I only had one thing to say about this entire situation.

"Well, that answers that once more."