Agony… I’m drowning. No. I’m dying of thirst. Or maybe I’m already dead. Wonder what dead people feel like? Drink. No. Can’t. Fucking water. Water everywhere. Water and salt. And a shit-ton of crap floating in that water. I hate water. But at the same time I crave it so bad. Heat everywhere. Merciless desert. Nowhere to hide from the sun. Nowhere to hide from the water. It’s in my lungs, my stomach, even my head. It’s already in my goddamn liver. Nothing to hold on to. Everything spins. Everything flips. I puke again. Even though there’s nothing left. Next time I’ll puke my own brains out. Not that they aren’t already fried from the salt. Fucking salt. Gotta separate it. Separate water and salt. How the hell do you do that? Why didn’t I pay attention in chemistry? Separate… water… water…

  Cold slap to the face. So pleasant… What is it? A wall. Solid wall of water. Cold water, no salt, no teeth. A whole Niagara Falls pouring over my head. Can’t breathe. I’m choking. I’m drowning. I… I’m sleeping? Again? Fuck… Not again. Hope nobody noticed.

  I reflexively jerked free from the hand. Shit. Guess they noticed after all. Someone’s holding me. I snapped my head up and frantically gulped air into my lungs. Long dark hair soaked in fresh water completely covered my face. Fresh water! Somewhere down there the water’s fresh! Without thinking twice I shut my eyes and dove back in. Water… Water… Water! I fucking love water… But again that hand… That cursed hand won’t leave me alone. It pulls me up. It’s tearing me away from life.

  “Finally coming around.”

  “Fucking hand! Let go or I’ll rip your arms off!”

  “What?”

  “Told you he’s funny.”

  “Shitty hand!” — The shitty hand latched onto my hair. Oh, it’s gonna get it now! I whipped around and sank my fangs deep into it. The hand screamed like a lunatic. Another hand rushed to help and started smacking me on the head. But I already tasted blood. Weird taste. Not as bitter as usual. Kinda sweet even. I’ll devour you both! My teeth clamped down hard and started tearing. A juicy chunk of flesh landed in my mouth. Hand in agony. Yes… Victory! Both hands fled in terror in some random direction, leaving me with a tasty trophy.

  “Funny, huh?”

  “AAAAA!!! Fucking bitch! He bit me!”

  Weird voices. Hands want revenge? Bring it. Come on. Swim over here. I’ll bite your fins off! I’ll go on the attack myself! Think I can’t find you in this darkness? I lunged at the enemy but something held me back. Something around my neck. And a chain. That sound I’ll never forget.

  “Don’t grab him by the neck, he’ll choke! Stupid hands!”

  I grabbed the chain. Ripping it shouldn’t be hard. Just a little effort and… Fuck! Hard blow straight to the jaw. Almost dropped the chunk of meat from my mouth. Can’t see shit. Who did that? Horns? Teeth? Tentacles? No idea. This enemy seems dangerous. Gotta regroup. I started paddling the other way fast, but something’s wrong. Water’s too solid. Right… It froze. Makes sense, it’s fresh. Gotta stand up. Where are my legs?

  “Mickey! Gimme a leg! Mickey, fuck!” — Mickey’s not answering. Fucking turtle…

  “Probably no use from him. Kid’s lost it. Finish him, Rudgor.”

  “With pleasure…”

  “Who said that? Show yourselves!”

  Cold metallic whisper came from the side. Quick vibrations of a thin blade. Yes! I recognize it. My favorite blade. And its name is…

  “VALERAAAAAAA!”

  I feel him. He’s flying straight toward me. Flying into my embrace.

  “Come to me!”

  Valera couldn’t hold back his emotions. Only way to explain why he stabbed right through my palm. No, something’s off. Can’t see anything. Gotta get the hair out of my eyes. But then they’ll see what I’m planning. But I’m not planning anything. So I gotta plan something. Valera’s trying to escape. Not happening. I grabbed him by the blade. Someone hit me again.

  “Die, bitch!” — some voice.

  “Shut your fucking mouth, moron! Don’t interrupt my thinking!”

  Right. Got it. Gotta kill everyone. And eat them. Genius! Starting with Valera. Fuck… He’s so hard and sharp. Can’t bite through. Wait, he’s not edible anyway. Traitor.

  “He’s completely nuts!”

  Valera stopped twitching. Did I bite too hard? No! Something slashed across my face. I instinctively jerked back, barely saving my head. Instead of splitting my skull in half, the thing just left a deep gash from eyebrow to chin and gave me a bit of a trim. Light blinded me. Weird color. Gotta adjust fast. Outlines getting sharper. Mind clearing. Is this because they hit me so hard on the head? Gotta remember this method. I’m about to figure out what the hell is going on and what fresh bullshit attacked me this time, and it’s… Fuck… Looks like I never woke up, because everything around is hallucinations. One of these hallucinations looks really pissed and really bald. He’s swinging a saber at me.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Whoa whoa whoa, hold up!” — I raised the hand with Valera still stuck in it toward him. “Easy there, Statham. Get your stick away from me. Valera doesn’t forgive mistakes like that.”

  The bald guy suddenly froze. He glanced confused at Schwarzenegger. The other one ordered him to lower the weapon. I looked around. Looks like a new installment of The Expendables, but set in Conan the Barbarian world.

  “What the fuck are you hallucinating for? I already feel like shit and you’re rubbing salt in the wound. Fuck… Why’d I say that word? Now I wanna puke again.”

  “We what?”

  “He’s insane, Khan.” — some hunched old crap in a robe piped up from the side. “Kill him.”

  “Shut your trap, hallucination. Where the fuck did you even come from? Is this some childhood trauma from when grandma’s relatives tried to kiss me as a kid? Get lost. Shoo! Shoo!”

  “Ah… I see…”

  “Khan, let me finish him.” — the stunned bald hallucination said, face all twisted.

  “Holy shit! I’ll swap your ass and your head right now! Then you’ll be paying fines to South Park for the rest of your life, but nobody’ll notice the difference anyway.”

  “Wait.” — Schwarzenegger said. “Hey, kid, tell me who your master is and I’ll let you live.”

  “Meaning… you’re not letting me live right now? But, uh… I seem to be alive. So you’re kinda full of shit… probably…”

  Schwarzenegger suddenly raised his stick at me for no reason.

  “Oh, you gonna mash potatoes? Ouch! What the hell are you doing? I’m not a potato, idiot! Did Lukashenko bite you or something?”

  After pressing his staff against me for a bit, square-head snorted in annoyance.

  “I can’t subjugate him. He belongs to another master.”

  “That’s what the notification window says?” — the old woman asked again.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hold up! This already sounds like the start of gay porn. I’m not participating! I’m not a fucking slave! I’m a dungeon master! I want a sexy chick. Oh, that one over there looks decent. Can I fuck her? Wait, why am I even asking you, you’re not real anyway.”

  “I am Khan Gamir. And there’s nobody more real than me.” — the giant growled menacingly.

  “Yeah right, don’t bullshit me. You’re some weird mix of Terminator and SpongeBob on a Kazimir Malevich painting. How can you be real?”

  “What the hell is he babbling about…?”

  “Don’t try to find meaning in a madman’s words.”

  “Then how about this?” — SpongeBob Schwarzenegger smacked me across the cheek with his stick. I scratched my head.

  “Meh… six out of ten. Lacked some whip to it.” — Looks like I hit imaginary Conan where it hurts, because his eyebrows started doing weird shit. He loomed over me threateningly, blocking the sun with his pumped-up carcass.

  “You really think you’re dreaming? Doesn’t this situation feel too horrible even for a nightmare?”

  “This one? HAHAHAHAHAHA! Don’t make me laugh!” — All the hallucinations around, even the ones sitting in cages, stared at me wide-eyed.

  “Tell me who your master is or I’ll kill you!”

  “That’s it? Just kill me? No torture, no torment, no gang-rape with a red-hot harpoon? Hm… This really doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. Gotta check.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Pinching myself to see if I’m awake. What else would it look like?”

  “There’s a dagger sticking out of your palm.”

  “Oh… right… How long’s it been there?”

  “My patience is running out. Counting to three.”

  “Really? My goddaughter could count to ten when she was two.”

  “One…” — Conan pulled a massive axe from behind his back.

  “I’d be more scared if you pulled out your dick. Swear to God…”

  “Hm… Pretending death doesn’t scare you. Think you’ll find peace after it? No… Weaklings always end up in hell, where bloodthirsty demons wait every second. They’ll eat you alive over and over… Again and again… Until your soul is worn to nothing in agony.”

  “HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! Wait, wait… hold on… right now…” — I took a deep breath and tried to burp. “Buuurp! There! Hear that? Demons sending their regards. HAHAHAHA!”

  “Two!” — Unexpected axe swing chopped off my left foot.

  “What?… SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU FUCKING PEOPLE ARE PISSING ME OFF!!! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY LEGS!!!”

  “WHO IS YOUR MASTER?!”

  “I AM MY OWN FUCKING MASTER!”

  “Last chance. Say it or I’ll chop you into salad.”

  “Listen, you dumb fuck. Want a fairy tale about the little shark that could? Okay… Once upon a time there was a tiny, tiny, kind little shark. One day she got hungry and decided to snack. She searched and searched for something to eat, until she found some poor bastard delirious, drifting on a piece of rotten plank. She felt sorry for him, but felt sorrier for herself. So she quietly swam up and bit off his leg. Sad story, you’ll say. Tragic… Yeah… No. Shut up! That’s not the end. Sudden pain snapped the poor guy awake and he really didn’t like the story. So he tracked down the little shark. Found her home and her whole family. Gutted mama shark. Then cut off papa shark’s fins and left him bleeding out helplessly. Tore out little brother shark’s teeth, gouged out his eyes, then made papa shark bite through his own throat. Sharks don’t have throats. Fuck off! And finally… HE TOOK THE FUCKING LITTLE SHARK AND RIPPED HIS GODDAMN LEG BACK OUT OF HER STOMACH!”

  “One.” — Schwarzenegger’s axe flew toward my neck, but my hand casually stopped it.

  The Khan’s shock had no limits. He had bisected hundreds with his legendary weapon. Stories of his power spread across the entire eastern frontier. Enemies fled at the sight of him on the battlefield. The few brave enough to challenge him were crushed instantly. Songs were sung about how he cleaved everyone with his giant axe. And now some legless slave of level 185 had stopped his strike with bare hands.

  Sparks ran along the blade. The Khan watched as my hand slowly pushed his weapon aside, revealing my face to him. My eyes already blazed with blinding blue light. I pulled the dagger out of my own palm with my teeth and immediately shoved it back in handle-first. Short electric arcs shot out from my body in every direction.

  “What the fuck?! He’s just a slave!” — the bald one yelled.

  “Why didn’t you put the collar I gave you on him, moron? I warned you!”

  “I did put it on!”

  I sent a strong electric surge through the axe handle, sending Conan flying back several meters with a scream.

  “You mean this little piece of metal?” — I asked, grabbing my shackles. One spark — and they shattered into pieces.

  “Honestly, I wasn’t exactly dreaming of coming back to people. They’re still total scum after all. But deep down I still held onto hope for a quiet life. Maybe if I kill all this trash, I’ll get lucky…”

  Thunder rolled across the entire camp even though the sun beat down mercilessly overhead. The air filled with that nice post-rain smell, mixed with thick black smoke. Leather tents slowly caught fire. Screams died down. Hundreds of riders galloped away in every direction, glancing back now and then with frozen horror on their faces.

  That day they met a monster.