The Witcher: Part XIII
49 Shades of Grey
Previously, on The Witcher:
Team Witcher saved Dire from the pyroclastic flow. Hitler did not save Radiant from the pyroclastic flow. Look at the contrast between good and evil!
The journey continues...
Christian Grey stood floating in the air with all of the other members of Hitler's band, supported by his magickek. They were watching as the town of Radiant was destroyed by the pyroclastic flow.
Grey was disgusted at Hitler's actions.
'Lol,' said Hitler.
The other 48 laughed. Grey did not.
"Why do you not laugh?" asked Hitler.
Grey responded more truthfully than he had ever done in his life.
"I do not find you funny."
Hitler sneered at Grey and then said "Then you shall die."
And then Hitler's magickek threw Grey down towards the pyroclastic flow. As he fell, his life flashed before his eyes.
His name wasn't always Christian Grey.
He used to be a common thug who lived on the streets of Vizima.
He often beat people up for fun.
One day, he saw an old priest, and decided he would go beat up the priest. And then he beat up the priest. And the priest died.
He had never killed a person before. He didn't realise how old and frail the priest was.
He decided he wanted to repent.
So he travelled to that priest's church, and he then decided he would change his ways. He decided he would become a man of God.
He decided to take up a new name: Christian.
Later, he applied to join Lady Feudalism's personal army, as he wanted to fight for a just cause. And before long, he ended up as a member of Hitler's orchestra.
As a Christian, Grey had a very strong sense of morality. But he also believed the ends justified the means. Of the 48 men in Hitler's orchestra, he was the only one who actually thought Hitler could actually make the world better. However much suffering Hitler caused, Grey believed was worth it, for the eventual united world government Hitler would establish at the end of his quest.
It was because of this moral sense that he was given the epithet 'grey'. Ergo, Christian Grey.
But Grey decided he would draw the line at laughing at a whole bunch of innocents being destroyed by a pyroclastic flow.
And he had paid for it.
He plunged into the hot gas and rock, and was sure that his end was nigh. And then he blacked out.
Grey awoke a few hours later.
He had suffered from severe, but not fatal burns. He tried to stand up, but he couldn't. His legs were mostly burned off.
He looked around at the destroyed town of Radiant, and saw the charred corpses of all the heroes. And then he sighed, accepting that he too was going to end up as a charred corpse.
And then he heard footsteps coming from behind.
He turned around and saw two witches.
One was big and muscly and wearing a red shirt. The other had a red scar and black hair and pale skin.
"Look, a survivor!" said the muscly one.
"Should we put him out of his misery?" asked the one with the red scar on his eye.
"No... this man looks like he might make a good comrade!" replied the muscly one.
"He can't walk. His legs are burned off," said the scarred one.
"Can't you heal his leg or something?" asked the muscly one.
"I suppose so," said the scarred one.
He placed his hand on Grey's leg, and suddenly, his leg had grown back.
"My name is Severus Hitler, and this is Communist O'Lenin," said the scarred one.
"I'm... Christian Grey," replied Grey.
"We're travelling north to get the Sword of Death and to stop Adolf Hitler from taking over the world. Do you want to travel with us?" asked Severus.
"Okay," said Grey.
Team Witcher had landed at an unusual looking building in the middle of the forest. It had some words on a sign at the front door.
'THE WITCHER FAN CLUB'
"What is this?" asked Geralt.
"I think you have a fan club ayy lmao," said Ciri.
They walked inside, to be greeted by a giant statue of Geralt. Except it wasn't quite Geralt.
The statue had long white hair instead of Geralt's short red hair.
And also the statue had two swords.
Geralt never used swords.
"Your costume is rubbish," said the lady at the reception desk.
"No, I'm the Witcher," said Geralt.
"No you're not. How can you be the Witcher when the Witcher is already here?" replied the receptionist.
And then on cue, a tall man with two swords and long white hair bursted through the door.
He was taller, and more handsome than Geralt. He spoke with an American accent.
"Hi, I'm Geralt!" said the man.
TO BE CONTINUED
IN
THE WITCHER: PART XIV
SMITE