Broken

Drymouth

After hours and hours of walking, I had finally arrived at Drymouth. Escaping Deathwish was something little could say they have done. My legs aching and my food supply gone, I obviously needed to get to the nearest tavern. I could hear my knees cracking as I walked, scanning the crude signs for one that marked a tavern. I walked through an intersection, as I was hit with a huge wave of nostalgia. On that corner laid the "Oasis Drink & Meal", taunting me like a sly cat. That place had kept me alive and simultaneously almost killed me. I turned to the left and pushed the door open with my left arm. I glanced around and spotted Krux, an old friend, drunkenly stumbling across the bar with an empty rum bottle in his hand, I started walking up behind him but I was too late. By the time I had taken 2 steps he was already cracking someone's skull with that bottle. His poor victim fell to the floor as blood sputtered out of his head. His table-mates stood up "What the fuck?" one of them said, as he looked down at his sure-to-be-dead friend. There were shards of glass everywhere, including in the cuts of his victim. One of them pulled a knife, and Krux, being his drunken self, laughed and tried to swipe it out of his hand. The man used his foot to swipe Krux in the shins and put him to the floor. I either had to step in or watch my long time friend die. With the adrenaline pumping I barely lacked the consciousness to make the decision.

I stepped in-front of Krux and put my hand on my blade's handle. "Sorry about the trouble boys, but this drunkard isn't yours, He's mine." There were two of them, armed with only rusted "shit-blades" versus me armed with a falchion. The man in-front made a gesture with his hands showing he wouldn't cause any trouble and sat back down in his seat. The barman walked over with a cigarette in his mouth and started dragging the corpse out. Any corpse on the street would be eaten by animals or even starving humans within 30 minutes. Even the "Fortunate Ones" could only afford small fortunes of food and no one would see a murder victim's corpse go to waste.

I leaned over to Krux and picked up his head with my hand. He was clearly drunk out of his mind. There was no way he would even be able to walk further than 10 feet. I pulled him off the ground and strung his arm across my shoulders. I needed to find somewhere to keep my drunk friend. "Hey barman! Where can I get a room around here?" I asked. "There's a cheap place right next door, and a more expensive place across the street" he said with a grunt, as he pulled the corpse out the door. Me and Krux followed him, turning to the left to buy a room at some shitty motel that doesn't wash the sheets. I stumbled in the door, threw some coin on the table and walked up the stairs without even saying hello. I opened the first door I saw and was met with the sight of some rat infested shit-hole. Nevertheless, I tossed Krux to the bed and went back outside to find a well. At the intersection I found a lineup for a tap. I pushed my way through and filled a bucket with some slightly-brown water that tasted like dirt. 

After arriving back that the hotel, I threw the bucket onto Krux. He closed his eyes and he used his hand to squeegee the cold water off his face. He sat up and looked me in the eyes. So drunk he had not even noticed I had carried him to the bed he currently sat on. "The fuck are you doing here?" He said, slurring every word. "Collecting debt." I responded.