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by Seuzz
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Fantasy · #1510047
A mysterious book allows you to disguise yourself as anyone.
This choice: Flip to another part of the book  •  Go Back...
Chapter #26

How Rick Got His Knife Back

    by: imaj
You turn to a page at random, revealing a short story handwritten in a neat, cursive script:

How Rick Got His Knife Back

By Kalliope Valentine

Rick Bredon woke up screaming. That wasn’t unusual for him. Sometimes his dreams helped him solve cases. Other times they gave him a glimpse of things best left unseen. The only mercy was that they faded quickly and even now Rick couldn’t quite remember what it was that sparked his night terror.

The seedy motel room was dark, which was how Rick liked it: The better to hide the unpleasant markings that hinted at the room’s sordid past. Little shafts of light were creeping past the blinds though, illuminating motes of dust as they danced in the air. That meant it was probably time to get up.

Rick reached over to the bedside table, grasping for the reassuring weight of his knife. His last defence against the monsters that stalked his dream. He closed his hand around the hilt and felt nothing. No knife, no hilt, just a knife shaped space atop the table.

Rick shot upright. His eyes darted round the room. No knife in the back of the door. No knife by his battered suitcase. No knife on top of the television.

“Squirt,” hollered Rick. “Squirt!”

The Squirt burst in through the door, gasping anxiously. “What is it Rick,” he asked, his demeanour not unlike that of a startled rabbit. “Are we being attacked?”

“Have you seen my knife,” asked Rick. “I left it here.” He gestured at the knife shaped gap on top of the bedside table.

“No I uh…,” began the Squirt. “Oh, hey, there’s a note on the door.”

Rick could see that now, with the door open and all. It was a grubby bit of paper taped to the door at head height, covered in messy, scrawling, writing. The Squirt grabbed the note, scanning it briefly before handing it over to Rick.

“You better read this,” said the Squirt.

Rick frowned as he examined the note. Between the darkness of the room and the appalling penmanship, it was difficult to read.

Dear Rick, the note began. I have your knife. If you want it back, bring Miko Toyotomi to Jötunheimr so I can marry her. Thanks in advance, Thrym.

“Christ Squirt,” muttered Rick, rubbing his hand over his dry mouth. “Miko’s gonna kill me if I drag her into this. You have any idea how hard it is to get there?”

The Squirt shook his head. He did not, only being a junior member of the Stellae.

“Ok, simple solution: You do the old shapeshifter shuffle, turn into Miko. I take you to Jötunheimr and we trick the dumb giant into giving me my knife back.”

“Can’t” squeaked the Squirt nervously. “Last time I turned into Miko I got sedated. If I turn into her I’ll have to sleep it off for a day and a half first.”

Rick grunted unhappily. He’d just have to suck it up and ask Miko

“Oh, hey,” said the Squirt, interrupting Rick’s chain of thought. “I saw a bridal boutique round the corner though…”

*****


Rick had never felt more ridiculous than he felt right now, covered from head to toe in bridal white. Even the little monsters that Eldibria sent to watch him, the ones he kept on catching in the corner of his eyes, were too busy laughing at Rick to menace him.

“Relax,” drawled the Squirt in an unconvincing SoCal accent. “I’ve ,like, totally got this.” She rapped sharply on the heavy wooden door - the very big, very heavy, wooden door.

There was a padding sound behind the door, one of very heavy feet moving about. Then it swung open and Thrym bent over to look at the two interlopers at his threshold.

“Hi, I’m Jenny Watanabe,” drawled the squirt. “I’m Miko’s cousin. Uh… Like her, uh, American cousin. And also, uh, bridesmaid. Rick couldn’t make it so he sent me.”

The giant stared at Rick with beady little eyes. Little for a giant, at least. He stared at the ill fitting white dress. He stared at the veil, and he peered round and stared at Rick stringy, messy hair.

“What happened to her hair,” asked Thrym.

The Squirt’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Don’t bring it up,” she squealed. “Miko was, uh, like so keen to make a good impression. This is like, uh, supposed to be the happiest day of her life but the stylist ruined her hair. So sad.”

“Oh, right,” grumbled the giant. “Sorry Miko. Why don’t you come in, we’ve got the wedding feast ready for you.”

The giant stood back up to his full height and beckoned Rick and the Squirt inside. A large table was set out in the middle of the room, a dozen or so places already set. In the middle, a huge roasted boar awaited the beginning of the festivities. Thryn led Rick to a too big seat at one end of the table before turning to walk away.

“Like, where do you think you're going,” shouted the squirt.

Thrym turned back round, deeply puzzled.

“You need to, uh, help Miko into her chair,” explained the Squirt. “And then, like, sit next to her. And, uh, hold her hand. It’s like a totally important Japanese tradition.”

“Oh,” rumbled the giant. “I didn’t know.” He pulled out the chair and allowed Rick to sit down in it. Ricks legs dangled in the air, not long enough to reach the ground from the oversized chair.

“Her left hand,” added the Squirt as Thrym made to sit down on Rick’s right. “I, uh, like, sit on her left. It’s totally a bridesmaid thing.”

Thrym seemed to accept this and sat down on Rick’s right hand side. He grabbed Rick’s left hand in his own, which made it seem very dainty in comparison. “Can I get you a drink my love,” he asked.

“Scotch,” muttered Rick. “The good stuff.”

Thrym looked at the Squirt. “What’s wrong with her voice?”

“Oh, Miko was, like, totally screaming and bawling,” explained the Squirt. “She was, uh, so afraid Rick would come and steal his knife back before she could, like, marry you. Her throat is, like, totally sore.”

“Oh you poor thing,” said Thrym, gazing longingly at Rick’s eyes through the veil he wore. “You shall have a bottle of our finest Scotch.” The giant let go of Rick and clapped his hands. Half a dozen other giants emerged from doorways. Most sat down at the table, but one placed a bottle of amber liquid in front of Rick before he disappeared back where he came from.

“Thank you,” squeaked Rick in falsetto.

Ricked grabbed the bottle with one hand and unscrewed it as fast as he was able. He didn’t bother with a glass. He just stuffed the bottle up underneath his veil and slugged half of it down in one go.

Thrym gave the Squirt a questioning look.

“Oh, Miko is, like, so thirsty from the trip here,” explained the Squirt.

“Um, makes sense? I guess,” said the giant. He raised his own drinking horn. “Now we feast in honour of my marriage.” The other giants at the table shouted their approval.

“Stop right there,” interrupted the Squirt. “Maybe that’s, like, how you do things here in Jötunheimr, but in Japan we, uh, give the bride her wedding gift first.”

“Wedding gift,” asked Thrym, puzzled again.

“A knife is, like, traditional,” explained the Squirt.

Thrym clapped his hands once more. The giant servant bustled into the room again and placed Rick’s knife on the table. Thrym grabbed Rick’s left hand again and squeezed. “There you are my love! Can we feast now?”

“Wait a moment,” answered Rick, still in falsetto. He grabbed his knife with his free hand. It felt good. Like a missing part of him had been returned. “Yeah,” he added, his voice in its normal register. “We’re done here.”

Rick slipped his left hand from the giant’s grasp. He stabbed the giant’s hand with his knife and pinned it to the table. Thrym screamed in agony, the noise reverberated in the vast hall. Rick tore away his veil and jumped up onto the table. He kicked Thrym in the face, retrieved his knife from the giant's hand and then buried it in Thrym’s oversized eye socket.

Rick turned round to face the rest of the guests. The other giants had risen from their seats and their hands were grasping at the weapons on their belts.

“I am having a really bad day,” growled Rick. “Anyone else want to end up like Blinky over here?”

The other giants turned and fled.

Rick pulled his knife from Thrym’s still twitching corpse. “So help me Squirt, if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone else…”

*****


And the story ends abruptly right there. You’ve never read anything like it, yet it somehow seems strangely familiar.

To continue investigating the room: "Disposing of Lucy

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