Terrible Fates (BEN Drowned story)

Chapter 1

[Happy Valentine's, my creeps!~

Yes, the third book is finally here! I was really eager to get this out, but I stayed patient until I had enough chapters to hold you all off. So, finally say hello to another protag-baby, and some familiar faces! You all are in for a wild ride, I tell you.~

Hope you all enjoy this and welcome to Terrible Fates!]

Chapter 1

The green-clothed hero ran across the field of wild grass, brandishing his sword for all of his enemies to fear; wielding his shield for all to gaze upon the mark of his land.

In his eyes was the determination to fight for the goodness he represented, for the souls who were wronged, and for the future that was at stake.

His movements were unwavering. His attacks were immaculate. Evil was had at his steely gaze. Everything about him radiated courage. He was a hero.

At least, that's what I imagined in my mind every time I watched this little hero run across the TV screen, killing colorful monsters that were in his path. I imagined him to be strong, and gracious, and humble, and lionhearted. A hero.

Every time things got bad, and sadness and fear overtook my body to the point where I couldn't bear to breathe, I thought about him.

And I told myself I could become a hero, too.

...

It was 6 am. Mom was asleep in her room and I was trying to be as quiet as possible in the kitchen. The waffle iron was still heating up the batter I just made, but that's not what I was most worried about. Hunter should've been back by now. How long does it take to pick up a cake from the bakery around the corner? It's not like he jogged over there either. I kept checking the time only to keep seeing the same minute after what felt like every three minutes. C'mon, Hunter...

Suddenly, I recognized the sound of keys jingling behind the apartment door and my impatience disappeared. Hunter tiptoed into the apartment, being careful not to bang the cake box into anything. He closed the door behind him and headed straight for me.

"Did Mom wake up?" he asked as he set the cake box down onto the kitchen counter.

"No, but she might soon," I told him, "we've gotta hurry."

"Well, have no fear because the cake is here," he chimed happily and I rolled my eyes at him. We opened the box to check out the cake. Mom loves classic vanilla cake with pecans in it. She loves coconut flakes, too. The cake had all of that, except instead of cooked apple slices (one of her favorite snacks) being on top of the cake, it had pineapple slices instead.

Immediately, I smacked Hunter upside the head and grumbled, "Pineapples, Hunter?"

"It's not my fault they're there! They probably confused apples with pineapples."

"It's just one syllable shy of being a different word," I complained, "it's not hard to distinguish them!"

"Well, don't get mad at me," he groaned.

"You didn't bother to check the cake before you took it from the bakery, you dingus? You're lucky Mom isn't allergic. But we still can't give her pineapple slices," I said.

"Why?"

I gave him a look and said, "It was Dad's favorite, remember?"

Hunter shifted his gaze down to the counter, his ears turning red with embarrassment. "Shit, you're right... We can still fix it. Let's just take off the pineapples and, I dunno, cut up apple slices."