Minor flashback for comic relief. Big out of focus shapes zooming overhead, drawing our attention to a futuristic yet oddly familiar cityscape.
“New Asgard?” Wade squinted at the bright buildings ahead of him. Eyes widened as he realised what he was seeing. Some odd looking air crafts in the sky; not oversized seagulls. And that was definitely the Opera House.
“Sydney.” He gasped and took a step backwards. “Holy shit. I’m in Star Wars.” Wade exclaimed breathlessly as his eyes followed a droid omnic that walked past him.
End minor flashback. Imagine Wade’s brief childish joy. Zoom in on his mask, opaque eyes filled with amusement. Zoom out. A heavy hand lands on his shoulders, gripping tight – he’s pulled backwards. Black.
This was it. The moment that led to Wade deciding that Lady Luck still held a grudge because of his affair with Mistress Death, and she was making him pay.
I wasn’t in Star Wars. That would actually have been a lucky streak. I could get a lightsaber… Okay, let’s not get carried away. Let’s lay this out properly. I was at home. Minding my own business. I had slumped down into the nearest soft surface holding a celebratory “you’ve done a clean hit” burrito – when suddenly there was this bright, white light. No, Scotty didn’t beam me up, I wasn’t abducted by aliens – but you’re closer than you think in assuming so. Some guys from the future kidnapped me entirely against my will, and they didn’t even have the decency to let me go back for my damned burrito. Why does food always have to suffer in these things?
Apparently I have a reputation in the future. So much so that these dudes “hired” - who am I kidding? I’m not getting paid - me to take out a “Reaper”. Now listen. I read Red Rising. I’ve seen Supernatural. Listened to the song by Blue Öyster Cult. None of these references apply to this worlds “Reaper”. And it is in this I regret not ever having played Overwatch. I got supplied with weapons, because guess what? Yeah. Those remained behind too. They gave me a profile. Known locations. Told me they wouldn’t let me return to my own time unless I killed the Reaper for them. I laughed in their faces for thinking they could threaten me; they blew mine off.
Repeatedly.
I made them promise to drop me back in at the exact moment they extracted me.
I really want that burrito.
Then I got off hunting.
Wade had been in futuristic Sydney for three days, that’s how long it had taken him to track down the Reaper. The bastards who hired him made him check in every morning, to update him on new spotting of his target and have him report his progress. Some aircrafts flew by overhead, distracting him. He couldn’t quite get used to it. It gave everything a warzone feeling.
He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness out of them, and set his eyes back on the building he’d been watching – just in time to see someone vanish into it. Shit! Was that it? Is that him? That guy looked HUGE! Like Nathan. In the comics. Not the movie.
Wade darted across the street and followed through the door. He figured he had the upper hand. The silence and tact he’d used to get in wasted the moment he opened his mouth;
“Knock-knock!” he called out into the seemingly empty space, drawing attention to himself.
Short starter for the big guy with the big guns @graveycrdshift
