The demon dragged me along, my sorry backside scraping against the hard, black earth, leaving me with anything but a warm fuzzy feeling. All around, monsters scurried back and forth: massive ones, big as rhinos; smaller ones, about the size of a cougar; and tiny critters that looked like mangy stray dogs. They all had red skin, glowing yellow eyes, razor-sharp teeth and claws, and an itch to take a bite out of me. But none dared come closer than thirty feet. Guess they were scared stiff of this demon.
As we trudged on, I snapped out of my shock-induced fog. Time to take stock of this mess, quick and dirty:
Question #1: Where am I?
In the ass.
Question #2: What's dangerous here?
Everything.
Question #3: What can I do about it?
Nothing.
Question #4: Odds of escape?
0%
Question #5: What's waiting for me?
Better not ask.
Question #6: What if they want to boil, fry, or grind me into sausage for a light snack?
Bash my thick skull against the nearest hard object at the first chance. (Acceptable plan.)
Questions #7-10: What the hell is this? Some kind of game? Am I in a coma, hooked up to some cutting-edge VR rig? How do I get out of this freaking Matrix?
Fuck you.
Seriously, what's with this system? I'd heard everyone gets a "class" at fifteen, but I pictured it like drawing straws from a basket where 99% say "serf." I thought it was just some government scheme to keep folks working and weed out freeloaders, like a medieval job fair. I'd never seen pop-up windows like that before. Maybe there's a way to pull up a game menu or something? I ran through 78 mental commands—words, phrases, even "Esc," "F1," "F2," "Alt+T," "Ctrl+Alt+Delete," you name it. Maybe I had to say it out loud, but those creeps had my mouth gagged tighter than a drum.
We'd been dragging for half an hour, and the scenery hadn't changed one bit. This place was straight out of a hellscape checklist: scorched earth? Check. Sulfurous clouds? Check. Demons galore? Check. Hitler getting tortured? No sign yet, but I hadn't seen everything, so I couldn't rule it out. My pants were sporting a sizable hole where my backside met the ground. At this rate, I'd be down to half my cheeks in no time. The pain was getting unbearable. I squirmed, twisted, and shifted my weight every which way, but it was like trying to wriggle free from a bulldozer. The demon just plodded along, not giving me a second glance. I tried getting his attention, letting out the loudest muffled grunts I could muster. After a few minutes of effort, I struck gold—he stopped and gave me a puzzled look.
"Hm… Interesting. He's got something in his mouth," he said.
I nodded like my life depended on it. The demon slowly peeled off my gag.
"Thought he was just the strong, silent type," he added.
The second I could talk, I let loose like a machine gun:
"He lied to you! I'm not his son! Please, send me back! Those bastards kidnapped me! I'm not that creep's kid! Have you seen him? We don't even look alike! I'm begging you, take me home!"
I rambled on, choking on tears, but the demon just scrunched his face in confusion. No clue how I could read his expression—guess terror sharpens your senses.
"Don't give a rat's ass," he finally said.
"Huh?"
"Hm… Maybe they stuffed something in his ears too?" The demon reached for my head with his razor-sharp claws.
"No, no, my ears are fine! I hear you loud and clear, sir!"
"Sure about that?"
"Yup."
"Alright then…" He turned and kept walking.
"Wait, hold on! I'm not the baron's son! He played you like a fiddle!"
"So what?"
"What do you mean, 'so what'? You had some kind of contract, didn't you?"
"Oh, right… So you're saying he broke the deal?"
"Well, yeah, basically. He totally screwed you over!"
"Cool. Saves me a trip topside. That's a long haul, you know. This is better." He kept trudging like nothing happened.
"So you'll let me go, right? Right? You'll let me go?" I was teetering on the edge of a breakdown.
"Let you go? Why would I? The master needs you."
"But I'm not that fatso's son!"
"Don't give a damn."
"But… but… how can you not care? He needed his son, didn't he?"
"Nah, the master needs a human kid with magic. Doesn't care whose kid it is."
"Then what's with all the contract nonsense?"
"Well, you see…" The demon grinned, like he was savoring a fond memory. "The master loves breaking people. Says when someone hands over their kid, knowing full well what's coming, it's like torturing two for the price of one. But don't sweat it—I won't hold you to that contract."
Don't sweat it? I'M CALM AS A FREAKING CUCUMBER! Cool as a statue of Buddha, damn it! What did he say? Torturing people? Did I hear that right? No! NO! NOOOO! What do I do? What do I do? I'm toast. Bet my life on it—I'm totally, completely, 100% fucked up. The thing I'd dreaded my whole New Fantastic Life just came true: they're gonna torture me. Not humans, not some cursed inquisition—hairy demons from hell. And for no reason! If they wanted intel, like where my buddies were hiding, I'd spill the beans in a heartbeat. Fuck you, buddies—I hate pain. Please, let it be psychological torture. Endless pop music, water dripping on my forehead, nails on a chalkboard—anything but this!
Meanwhile, my backside was inching closer to its bitter end. Man, what did I do to deserve this? Was I such a monster in my past life that I earned this fate? Or… wait! It all adds up. You were wrong, you sanctimonious priests. I reincarnated, zapped a cow, and karma's biting me in the ass. This is Hinduism! Gotta be 90% Hinduism! I can't say for sure—my knowledge of it is thinner than a razor's edge. Who's their big shot? Some blue guy with a bunch of arms? Krishna? No? Doesn't matter right now. Please, oh great God of Hinduism, forgive this idiot who didn't know what he was doing. I swear on my worthless life, I'll be your loyal follower, your first apostle in this godforsaken land. I'll spread your teachings far and wide, make every sinner in this hellhole your servant. Just save me from this nightmare!
"We're almost there," the demon said. "Grok's got the tools ready. This'll be a blast."
I craned my neck to see what lay ahead. Chains with shackles dangled from a massive rock. At its base, piles of bones and shattered human skulls littered the ground. Nearby stood a table loaded with about a hundred horrifying metal gadgets. And lounging by this charming still life was a hulking, jacked demon.
Thanks, Krishna. Real helpful.