Chapter 5. Look mommy, I am already 1 year old.

Prisoner of hell. Entry number 1356.

*Slap*, *Slap*

‘Dude, get a hold of yourself. You are Markus R.. Ah yeah Asger Haraldson now, but all of you can call me The Chosen One’

*Slap*

‘Stupid delusions. What’s wrong with me?’ I am a bit panicking since not long ago I noticed that sometimes I tend to go deep into uncharted territories.

Currently I am in my room. Which is on a second floor of our house. It is quite small with only one window facing what I believe to be east. In front of a window stands the most ordinary table with two chairs I ever seen, of course everything is made of wood. And let’s not forget the bed which is beside that table. Of course it’s just a haystack with fur on top.

I look at my bed and shake my head. ‘What to do? Even if sleeping on that bed is quite comfortable but now with lice in it… It became really hard to get some nice rest.’ I don’t think that I can find any solution for this now.

'I have been here for one whole year already, so a lot has happened.’

Even in this strange state I still managed to learn my parents language. Well I still only talk in two or three word sentences but this is definitely a huge step forward. This also makes my parents for some reason way happier than they should be.

Another achievement I am proud of is that I learned to read a bit. But with this one I got really lucky. Since in my whole house, no as I can understand, in this whole town you can hardly find more than a few books. But somehow my father managed to find one near entrance to the town while patrolling. Most likely some trader dropped it. But anyway the most important part is that he planed to use it like any wise person would do, by putting in the fireplace… Luckily I managed to convince father to give it to me. It was a short book about eatable plants and fruits.

‘Yeah. No books… But we got full chest of gear: battle axes, daggers, few swords, shields and some kind of throwing weapons. This is definitely a picture of a warm and peaceful family.’

Apart from that chest full of nice toys, my parents own a small mirror. It is like a treasure in this house. But most importantly is that I had a chance to get a glimpse of how I look. Well I am a still young and my appearance will keep changing. But apparently I have dark brown hair, similar to my father’s, face is like most of the children still innocent, but what really got my attention is this red line, like tattoo. It is starting over my left eyebrow and makes some awesome pattern while going down and ending at the level of my ear. ‘Damn with it I look so badass. The player is in da house, so mothers hide your daug… Pffff’

*Slap*

‘This one was particular disturbing. Normally I wouldn’t be so against fantasies like that, in reality who would. But currently I'm in a different situation because this is the land where Arnoldinum Schwarzenirium runs wild. And even a thought about those terminators makes me… Urgh!’ Shivers run down through my whole body.

At beginning I thought that only my mother was this strange. But I was, to my disappointment, wrong. From spying I mean listening to my parents I came to one simple conclusion why men here can even look at those ‘women’. That is because muscle equals strength and strength here equals beauty. In other words it’s very advanced stage of Muscle fetish. ‘Damn perverts.’ I mumble to myself.

‘Somehow future really looks bleak to me…’ I should change subject before I get really dispirited.

‘Haa… I got to admit this body is amazing. From my knowledge, one year old babies should be learning to walk properly. While I am already standing tall. Can’t really tell how tall I'm because there are no ways to measure myself. But I am definitely way bigger than I should be.’ Full of myself I look over my body.

Suddenly I notice something disturbing.

‘No no no no no no no… This can’t be happening to me.’ What I saw was small bulges on my arms. ‘Damn it all!!! I am infected. Medic!!! I need a medic!!!’ At the moment if anybody would have went into my room they would have seen me rolling on the ground and from time to time thrusting one of my arms into the air as if calling someone.

‘No no no no no I am a frigging baby terminator, so do I need to go back into the past and kill Sara…’

*Slap*

“Gabuh” I let out a sound as it was a heavy, full of love to myself slap.

‘Ahhhhh. Am I going insane? If I am. I am certain only for one thing, that everything is my new mother’s, Jensina’s, fault. Most likely it’s some kind of mental trauma which I incurred while she breastfed me.

Well of course if you can call those things breasts at all, since it totally look like really really well trained dude’s chest.’ Ah this is making me remember my old wounds.

‘How to explain how damaging it was? Let’s just say after feeding I had urge to rip out my own eyes. Or there was one time, I believe it was Entry number 73, when I hunted down a cockroach, cooked it over our fireplace and eaten it. Just because I didn’t want to see those bulges of muscle with nipples. Of course later I vomited but that’s not the point.’ Remembering all of that made my whole back wet from a cold sweat.

‘God if I am alone suffering like that and other are reborn comfortably like nobles with beautiful mothers… I am so going the Terminator on them…’ Some thoughts run through my mind to which nobody should pay any attention.

== End of chapter 5 ==

This is how imagine it. God I am terrible at drawing people :perche: