Frost And Flame

29

It wasn't supposed to be this way. But nothing goes as planned, I guess.  This fight, or skirmish, or whatever you want to xall it feels like it's been going on for actual weeks. As if the pacing of some hypothetical story of my life was poorly done, and the author was procrastinating the end because she was scared to end it all, good or bad.

Or maybe it's because your life flashes before your eyes and time slows in near death experiences? No matter why, there's no escape from what happens. At least, I don't think so. It's so cold and everything is so slow. It's like watching the world through a frosted glass, like those ones in bathroom windows and stuff. I can't see what's happening, and everything is muffled. I'm not even here, I'm just experiencing.

For the first time in years, I feel calm. That's how I know this has to be it because I don't have a chill out button. A vibes mode. A cool kids' passport. I always act like it's 2am, and I just drank 6 monster drinks, ate 8 melatonin gummies and a cup of coffee, fully ready to fight God and die trying.

So why do I want to close my eyes? I'm watching blurs move around me, and I can hear stuff happening faintly. Someone is screaming, and it's probably not me. Brain too empty to scream right now. No thoughts, just vibes. It's probably not an appropriate reaction to this situation, but at least it's a reaction. How long has it been? A minute? An hour? A week? Probably only a few seconds if I think about it. But it feels like eternity. And I feel like the muffin from the ASDF movies.

Maybe it's ok to close my eyes after all. If there's nothing good on TV, then catch up on your beauty sleep. The same thing applies to real life. Faintly  a voice in the back of my mind is telling me this is a bad idea, but that one song about piña coladas and getting caught in the rain quickly buries it. It's ok. I can rest here. So I allow my heavy eyelids to finally close all the way and drift off into the deepest sleep.

~~~

Damn it. If I don't find a way to warm myself soon, then I'm screwed. Everything I've built, everything I worked for.

Frank was right. Even if I win here, I'll be set back and potentially never recover. I look down to his body. Unfortunately, his breathing stopped. He's useless. Great.

I grab Stanley and instantly drain his heat. It's my only option until I can reach one of these people in front of me. Regrettable, since he'd be hard to replace.

"S-sir!" He yells, startled. I'll pull just enough to keep myself operational. If I play my cards right, I can still come out on top here. There's more people than before, so reinforcements must have arrived. Chevy and those idiots didn't do jack shit. I hope they're dead because they might as well be.

Suddenly Stanley goes quiet and I realize he had been screaming. He isn't anymore, though. I guess Frank spoiled me because I barely got anything out of Stanley, but now he's phased himself out of my grasp and collapsed on the floor. Whether he's dead or alive, he's useless to me now. Everyone is always useless eventually. Expendable pawns in my game. Some must be sacrificed, after all.

I quickly surveyed the agents. Aside from high and body shape, they're all indistinguishable, which is annoying. I need someone who can provide enough body heat to take me to the next and so on. Except for one, near the door. A torn uniform reveals a pink liquid or gel underneath. All the way underneath. They're an elemental. With any luck, it'll be something I can use. After all, this is done, too. I stop my preventative attacks, causing everyone to freeze.

They all jump as I shatter the ice dome, time to get my hands dirty.

~~~~