Tim ran into a dark alleyway and hid among the refuse. His thoughts spun in circles.

“They didn’t believe me. I can’t understand! Why wouldn’t they believe me?” He whispered to himself, like a desperate mantra, trying to find sense in a world turning further and further upside down. Checking to his left and right, Tim double checked to make sure no one was pursuing him and then pushed himself to his feet. He gripped his head, attempting to relieve the throbbing headache forming in his skull. Then he thought better of standing up, and crouched back down.

“Nothing is making sense anymore! The guards don’t believe me, and I’m alone now. I can’t even ask my parents for advice anymore.” Tim’s voice trembled. “They always knew what to do.” He rocked back and forth in a vain attempt to comfort himself. It did not work.

“I wish I had died with them.”

Tim remained the alleyway, curled amongst the stinking trash, dozing a little until the lightening sky reached even this stinking hellhole.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Tim watched dully as dust motes, probably dried manure, filtered through a beam of sunlight on his leg. Tim felt that ray had no right to feel warm as it crept down his leg towards a small plant. It was blackened and malformed and only had two leaves, but still it lived on. Some small part of Tim marveled at that. He noticed a small twisted bud growing on the end of its single stalk. A piece of trash was stuck to it, malforming it, preventing it from opening. Tim picked it off, and felt a small measure of satisfaction knowing he had helped the weed blossom. Tim smiled.

Somehow that small act helped tremendously, allowing his natural pragmatism to come back to him.

“Think, you idiot! Think! What would the Great Heroes do in this situation? Do you think they would sit in shit moping? No! What would Anna do maybe? No. She was a scholar. I doubt she ever got mixed up in insanity like this.”

Tim hit the wall, feeling the almost tangible sensation of stress building up to a knot in his stomach. “What about Tansmith? He always said list the facts. ‘Through knowledge, find wisdom,’ Tansmith said. That helped me survive the attack, it could help now.”

Tim listed the facts one-by-one on his fingers, desperately searching for some kind of good news he could drag out of the situation. “Okay. Fact one. The guard believed me up until I mentioned the demon. Fact two. Right now, I have nothing but a handful of silver in my pocket and the bag on my shoulder and I smell like shit. Food, lodging, and a bath are a must. Fact three. I need to survive to get revenge, but survival costs money. Oh! I still need to complete the scholars exams.”

Even though he could only find three facts to list, the realization that his situation was not completely hopeless was like sweet nectar to Tim, as starved of hope as he was before. At least, until the realization struck. “Shit! The scholars exams! Those are tomorrow, aren’t they? I’ve got to get cracking!” With that startling fact blaring into his brain, Tim shot out of the alley. First food, then lodging, then I can figure everything else out. It wouldn’t be any good for me to show up to the exams looking like a starving hobo. The hero Anna always said to look your best for tests! Tim thought to himself, running across the streets in search of affordable housing.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Well, this is a bit of a pickle I’ve gotten myself into. Tim thought to himself. Who would’ve thought that the slums would have thugs in them. Really should’ve seen this coming, now that I think about it.

“Oi! You! For the last time, give us your money, or we gut ya!”, the muscled thug sneered at him, using the tip of his rusty, saw-bladed long knife to trace the wrinkles in Tim’s worn shirt. To the thug’s right and left, two smaller goons grinned menacingly and stood silent. Tim looked left and right, searching for some kind of escape route, but all he could see was more of the twisting, stinking labyrinth of alleyways that he had foolishly wandered into in search of housing. “Blimey mates, I don’t think the filthy piece of shit wants to give us anything. Todd, George, grab his arms. I might have to get a bit…. personal.”

Welp, either way I’m screwed. If I run, they hunt me down and probably kill me. If I do nothing, I probably get stabbed once they realize how poor I am. If I fight, I get stabbed. Realizing that he had no other options, Tim jolted away from the thugs and took off down the alley that opened up behind him.

“CATCH THE FUCKER!” The large thug screeched, almost surprised that his prey had decided to bolt. Tim ran as fast as he could down the alley, but the thudding of boots hitting dirt and stone only grew closer and closer. Zipping left and right, Tim ducked and weaved throughout the various alleys, changing direction whenever he could.

After a few more changes in direction, the boots of his pursuers faded.

“Did I lose them?” He asked himself, unsure of even where he was in this insanity. Sadly, his question was almost immediately answered by running into a well-built arm suddenly sticking out of a side-alley. With a meaty smack, Tim met arm, and the arm won with Tim falling to the ground grasping his throat. Attempting to scrabble to his feet, Tim massaged his aching throat and looked up to see the annoyed face of the smaller thug towering over him.

Before he could react, the thug moved towards him with frightening speed, fists flying out and catching Tim in his stomach and sending him crashing into a brick wall. Ha, figures my luck would have me trapped in a dead end of an alley. Tim drug himself back to his feet, only to be rewarded by a left hook to the face. His vision becoming blurry, all Tim could feel as the thug rained merciless blows on him was pain, and for some reason, water. He glanced to his left and saw, for some reason, a trough of water and mud.

In an instant, Tim knew what to do. Like the great warrior hero Johnathan said, if he acts quickly, he could catch his attacker by surprise. With the last of his meager strength, Tim grabbed the sides of the short thug and shoved him towards the disgusting trough, forcing the man’s head under the foul mixture of mud and water.

“I’m sorry! I have no choice!” He screamed, fighting off the blindly lashing fists of the man and sitting himself on top of the thug’s back with his full bodyweight keeping the thug from moving himself away to safety. The thug scratched at Tim, digging deep bloody furrows into Tim’s arms in an attempt to pull him off. Tim screamed as the thug gurgled and thrashed in the green water, tears streaming down his face, but did not let up. After almost a minute of gradually weakening struggles, the short man finally became limp. Tim let off of him, and the thug flopped down, nose catching on the rim of the trough. He stayed there with his head tilted back and his chin in the dirt. Tim just looked at him for a moment, then poked him with his foot. He wasn’t breathing. Tim trembled. He attempted to rationalize the death of another sentient being but failed. Tim sunk down to the trash-filled ground in tears. He screamed and clutched at his head in despair.

After what felt like hours, Tim found the strength to move himself. The great warrior hero Johnathan also said, all is fair in fighting. It disgusts me to think of it, but I should check and see what he has on him. At the very least I can borrow his clothes to make me look like less of a homeless person. Moving stiffly to the still-warm corpse, Tim searched through the pockets and stripped the man of his blue trousers and plaid shirt. It was unexpectedly difficult to pull clothing off of a limp corpse, a thought Tim ignored. He’s just sleeping, he’s just a doll... Hey, 5 silver. Plus some decent clothes. It’s more than he would have gotten from me, Tim realized.

Well, I have enough money to stay a night or two at most of the inns here now. I guess I better get out of here and continue looking. With that out of the way, Tim left the dead-end alley, doing his best not to look back and the unmoving body.