The Adventures Of Unfortunate Brian

Brian was one of those people who stumble through life not making much difference, just killing time until death arrives, until a bizarre event changes their lives. And one of these events sure interrupted the monotony he called life.





He found himself sitting in a damp cave on a dreary, wet, rotting planet. How did he wind up here hiding from the inhabitants of this strange world? Sitting there getting piles from the wet ground, he pondered this and how to prolong this life he now knew. Brian knew that eventually one of two things would happen, either he would strike it lucky and wind up on a wonderfully friendly planet (not likely knowing his luck), or he would face whatever was after him. While deciding which version he would rather hope for and if his numbers did come up on the lottery while he was away, Brian decided enough was enough. It was time to confront his fears and stand his ground. Maybe he would get through this and finally believe in his self to be worthy of this gift he had.



Cautiously Brian crept to the edge of the cave opening, his nervous sweat dripping into his eyes and the primal instinct inside him screaming "what the fuck are you doing you idiot? Put your head between your legs and kiss your arse goodbye, we aren't coming out of this one." He could smell the warm stench of the creature on the wind; his balls had retreated past his stomach and were now in his mouth as he peered outside. If it smells as bad as this what must it look like, well he found that out quick enough. His eyes popping out on stalks, registered the lethal teeth, the massive claws, and the house sized reptilian nightmare they belonged to standing before him. It was as Brian would say, "fucking hell on legs”, unfortunately before he could squeeze these words past his balls, he pasted out.

Maybe it was the lack of food or just that he was a coward, but If Brian had been conscious he would have noticed that rather than be scared of this thing, the dying need it had to reach its toilet area, was the more concerning event. Some really off meat from a previous kill was about to escape from the creatures stomach and claim Brian as its final resting place. It was during this time that Brains’' cursed gift activated, but not soon enough as the last of the pungent meat splurged out of a relieved bum and over his limp body.



What the fuck was that smell that now filled his objecting nose, sitting up he tried to open his eyes but they refused due to whatever was covering his face. Scraping the soft substance away with his sleeve he remembered the creature. "Oh fuck I'm in its' stomach" he thought, but as his vision cleared it revealed nothing but clear sky balanced on a far stretching plain void of the hell on legs. As he stood up the remnants of the putrefied meal slopped off his body and hit the ground with a squelch, Brian had somehow escaped the other world. It was during this thought he puked what was left off his meal two days previous, and as usual his luck played a part in succeeding to get most of the vomit over his already shit covered legs.



“If it wasn't for bad luck" he said aloud, “I would have no luck at all."



It was this life motto that had got Brian through his life so far, and unlike everything else, had never let him down, yet.



Seas of tall, green and dark brown, spiral grass stretched as far as the horizon, it resembled a tropical emerald colour sea with splurges of spilled oil from a stricken tanker. The sky was a vibrant purple with lilac wispy clouds floating aimlessly in the breeze. Turning his head, Brian gasped at the scene spread out behind him.

Masses of huge, almost sculptured trees reaching far into the amethyst sky above, they seemed to twist in a way that resembled a hose on full power with no one to hold it still. Through the trees he could see other shrubs and bushes of equal weirdness and beauty. Beyond that still he saw what he could only presume was a large pool of water, albeit it was orange, he still felt his thirst grasp him.

Cautious was the only way Brian knew, so setting off towards the orange lake he bent down to pick up a branch. Not so much to use as a weapon but more as a piece of mind, you always feel better walking through somewhere wooded and strange if you have a large stick. Unfortunately for Brian this was home to a small insect that took much offence to his home being stolen, and if he could talk Brian would not have liked what he had to say. Instead the insect done what he knew best flew round Brains’ head before biting him on the nose.



"Little bastard" was Brains’ response to the attack, "unlucky for you." and promptly squashed the insect on his nose.



At last something had worse luck than him was his last thought upon reaching the orange liquid.





Kneeling at the water’s edge Brian cupped his hands to the water for a drink. He took a little sip to check it was safe and hoped it was. A little unusual in taste he thought but not un-nice, it reminded him a little of the parma violet sweets his mother liked when he was young. Brian longed to be with her again, she always made him feel safe. Relishing in this memory he took another drink from the lake letting the feelings of home wash over him. When reality kicked back in just to twist the knife a bit more Brains’ thoughts turned to what to do next, a wash was definitely first. Even though the smell on him wasn't as bad as when he woke, it still made him smell like shit and feel a bit queasy.



Now you have to understand Brian wasn't a muscular or athletic man. He weighed 9.5 stone on a full stomach, stood 5 foot 8 tall in his Marks and Spencer socks, loosely wore the used t-shirt he had picked from his bedroom floor and a pair of thin legs protruded from his tartan boxers. A tatty pair of old trainers stuck to his feet offering little comfort. The only other possession he carried apart from the gift was a small shoulder bag he fashioned from leaves and vines on Sasder world. Inside was leaves for wiping his arse, a container for drinking, a sharpened stone he'd found and a piece of bark which he used to count the days and how many worlds he'd been on.



He was the type of guy at school or work who ended up with the ginger girl with sweaty hands and even then she would end up leaving him for the guy with glasses and nasal problems. So after washing, Brian was ready for his next choice, find some food or shelter. A low rumbling from his tummy answered that question. Feeling slightly better and smelling a lot sweeter than earlier, he made his way to the nearest bush with some type of fruit or berry hanging from it. The fruit was round, about the size of an orange but blue in colour and fairly soft. But the taste was the sweetest thing he'd had for weeks and was so hungry, all that was left was the seed in the middle, or so he thought. Brian proceeded to pick a few more to munch while he attempted to find shelter but yet again he would have to build his own.



What Brian just ate was a Brisget egg laid by a large pink and blue striped frog type amphibian. The fruit was a soft egg sac and inside, the seed was a developing Brisget. And like many cultures these were used in shamanic rituals to see other worlds, or to trip, to you and me. The people on this planet learned a long time ago about this egg, and kept well away from it as they were all of the opinion it was not their cup of tea. Well would you want to be in your nightmares for 4 days straight not knowing you were hallucinating? Not more than an hour had passed and Brian had been building himself a cosy place to sleep, but now it was time for the eggs to take over.





Now you'd think, how would you be able tell the difference between a planet and its life forms that you've never seen before and the effects of some bad eggs. This was an easy task for Brian, as what he was witnessing was the contorted trees turning into hundreds of twisty plastic pencils with boggle eyed faces all looking at him for some type of response. This wouldn't have been so bad, but the fact that the day glow hair trolls on top of the pencils were aiming their arrows at him, was a bit more concerning.



The response they got was a murmur to the effect of "oh shit". And that was all he needed to see of these apparitions and turned heel, Brian's fight or flight instinct was leaning to the flight side and was pumping adrenaline through him like a burst dam. If he could've ran like that in normal conditions maybe we could've stopped the Russians taking all gold in the Olympics, Brian being Brian though would still have tripped up and took half the competitors out too, but it would have given the bloopers some good footage. And it was during this flight instinct it played true and he fell head over tit, busting his lip as he grinded against the ground. He scrambled to his feet and headed towards a clump of bushes where he could plan his next move and try to stop shiting bricks.

If he had learned anything from previous jumps to new worlds it was this, hiding was usually the best option to get a grip on things before they got worse. His only plan was look for somewhere small and dark to crawl into; anywhere those freaky fucking trolls couldn't squeeze into.

Up to his left he could see that there was a hilly area in the ground with what appeared to be a pot hole opening or small cave, but to a scared shitless Brian it looked like Fort Knox.

Why it was here wasn't his first thought and it wasn't a descriptive simile put in by the author either, but it did look safe for now.

Forcing his body into this opening a pungent smell filled his nose. But it was definitely too small for the trolls to get in and that was what mattered. He tried his best to get comfy, wriggling from side to side created a moderately relaxing depression in the soft ground. Brian allowed his body to relax the muscles in his weary body and sighed a little.



Well at least there was one constant in his life, he was always running or hiding. Not much comfort to normal people but this wasn’t normal, he longed for the odd occasion when he wasn't scared or lonely. But these were far and few between. This thought always helped Brian to carry on. By now his eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could start to make out shapes and pale colours becoming clearer. The walls were pinkish brown and fairly smooth to touch, curved grey roots arched round supporting the cave walls. It all looked solid enough and nicely warm inside but the smell was not welcoming, in fact it was more like a 30 stone man's armpit after a short run for the bus. Yes I have had the misfortune to have him sit next to me too.



The colours started to blend and twist like a 60's wall paper design, it was hypnotic but sickening at the same time. All Brian could do was try to stop the spinning before he spewed what little he had eaten. Now when you've been drunk you know that walking straight is impossible, and when the room is spinning also, you know a drunken fall and a vomiting are not far behind. But a fall was substituted for a trip over one of the roots escaping the soft ground, and the vomit soon followed. It must have been during the latest rounds of vomiting that Brian passed out.



It would be another three days before Brian could open his eyes and emerge from his hideout that was warm, soft and smelly. But his terrors tortured him while he slept, never giving him a minute’s restful sleep. All his insecurities were brought to light in his nightmares and his dreams smashed by hideous creations of his imagination. In a way, he was his own worst enemy.



It was a glorious sunrise over the orange expanse of water when Brian awoke from his ordeal. Like a tortoise sticking its head out from the shell, Brian emerged cautiously. He could feel the warmth of the sun spread over his body as he stretched and took stock of where he was and what had happened. It was during these thoughts that he made sure the trees and trolls were gone, and then he turned to look at his shelter. Now imagine someone winning the lottery and then being told it was just a big prank at their expense and you'll understand how his face changed. Brian's sanctuary from his hallucinations was in fact the decaying and stinking remains of a Tartui.

The Tartui are big, woolly dog like animals with six legs and terrible breath. These poor creatures only live for four years, just long enough to grow to thirteen foot high, play with other Tartui, reproduce, and then die.

It was this reason that Brian had found his cave here but the cave was just the dead remains and the entrance had been the area where something bigger had took a chunk out of the flesh. The realization of this sank in and if he had had anything left in his stomach, Brian would've puked the lot up. But after four days he was drained of everything and all he cared for was being safe and finding food.



After a quick wash in the orange lake his thoughts turned to what to do and how long he would be here before the next journey. Should he make his way round the lake or walk back to the sea or just sit there felling sorry for himself (something he could have won gold for). Option one seemed best for now. So after filling his container with more orange lake, Brian grabbed his bag, put the drink inside and set off. Hopefully he was heading for something better than what he'd had the last few days.



The view was stunning to a simple person like Brian. The spiral grass blowing gently in the wind stretched out to one side towards the tree line now void of trolls. Perhaps later he would venture into the forest but not just yet, his nerves were still recovering from their ordeal. Carrying on further he could see in the distance a round shaped object a bit like an igloo. Various thoughts raced through his mind, what is it and can it hurt me, is that something’s home or just another object in this strange world. Standing there observing the mound for movement or anything that might return, an intelligent thought broke into Brains’' mind. It would be prudent to go into the tree line and make his way there through the trees in relative safety. After all that’s what they did in old war films back on Earth.



Brian crept slowly and quietly as possible through the twiglet shaped trees and unusual bushes, drawing nearer and nearer to the mound. As he came in line with the round object he could see there was a small opening in the side facing the horizon. It was about the size of a large tent, looked solid enough and as far as he could make out, empty. At least it was safe so far, but further observation was needed. So he sat down behind the nearest bush making sure he couldn't be seen, took a drink from his container and watched. Now if you're like me you could possibly sit for half an hour or more resisting moving but Brian needed to take a leak and his knees were starting to ache. So he moved backwards until he felt safe enough to stand and walk away to find somewhere to pee.



He stood behind a tree still facing the lakes edge keeping watch while he took a much relieved break. As he stood watering the local plants he noticed something move. It was about the same size as a large dog, green and brown in colour much like the grass. But as he watched it approach the mound, his mind picked out an image of those bald Asian cats, you know the ones, they look like an experiment gone wrong or what your mate does to the cat when he's pissed, shaves it. Well like that, but this one was green and brown, a lot bigger and ugly as fuck.



Probably best to give it a wide berth he thought. Brian slowly moved back further into the trees and for once missed all the twigs waiting to be trod on and shout he's over here. Letting out a sigh of relief he strolled up a small incline towards the top where he could better survey his surroundings, and put more distance between him and the baldy large cat thing.