Regrets Over Living

For the first entry, read

A Debt to be Paid  (13+) Cor and his tigra-ban friend, Reg, journey to make payment to a priest. #1667760 by Than Pence

Cor-Pog Vonciatta was a changed man. Literally.

He’d been in his new body for roughly four months and he couldn’t help but wonder what the previous host had done that would inspire him to give it up.

Cor himself was growing depressed: he’d lost Reg, his tigra-ban friend, to a fornamite. The end result was that Cor got to keep his body and his life, but he lost his friend on a mission that was meant to pay off the priest who swapped Cor out of his dying body and into his new, more muscular body.

Knowing that his new form attracted more ladies eased the suffering, but Cor was quickly growing tired of their company. One such lady was hanging on his arm in a tavern and he finally shrugged her off. She spit at the ground and told Cor that he probably wanted to go live with the Futella Monks anyway. They were known to live pleasurably without the presence of women.

Cor brushed the comment off, paid his tab, and left.

He was a traveling man by trade: always wandering for his next job and hoping it’d be grand enough to be his last. In the past, Reg made it simpler. Now, Cor struggled to keep his stomach full.

Back at the Gorka Inn, Cor entered his room, knowing he’d have to check out by tomorrow as he didn’t have enough money to stay for another night. He flopped onto the bed and let his swimming mind settle, his eyes closed.

Something wasn’t right.

An uninvited scent permeated the air and Cor opened his eyes to peer into the dark. In the corner, a woman sat in a chair with one leg over her knee. Being fully clothed, Cor imagined she was here for something less-agreeable I don’t want any right now, anyways.

“Didn’t think I’d find ya?”

Cor sat up, his eyes sore in their sockets. “Excuse me?”

She smiled and shook her head. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, reflecting any point of light from outside the open window. “I mean, Massy is a wreck and Little Pool misses his daddy so much.”

Something uneasy began to settle inside Cor and it was swirling around the idea that he’d chosen the wrong body to have his spirit swapped into. But Reg chose this body. Cor smiled. Kriffing bastard.

She met his gaze with steel. “You think this is funny? Something to smile about?”

“Look, lady, I know you think I’m your husband, but…”

The woman gawked and sat up in the chair, shocked. She didn’t say anything for a few moments. Finally, she said, “What is the matter with you, Flip?”

Flip?

“You’ve always been a kidder but this is not funny. Gethie is missing and I’ve been taking care of your kids.”

Cor suddenly felt sick in his mouth.

Kids.

Before he let her say anything else, Cor blurted out, “I’m not Flip.”

She didn’t let a second pass. “Oh, right. You let a Borgite swap you out.” She shook her head, smiling that unhappy smile, standing, and gathering her bag that she’d set next to the chair. “You know, you’ve been pulling that gag for years, but it’s just not funny anymore. Not during a time like this.” She moved to the door, about to leave.

Pausing, she stopped and turned. “Can I send some words of encouragement back to Massy and Pool? From their father?”

Her eyes, no longer gleaming, looked hopeful and sad and Cor felt his heart tremble at the thought that two tykes were out in the world and expecting him – his body, at least – to walk through the door and give them hugs. It made him sick and he lowered his head.

Hearing her sigh and walk through the door, he called out and stopped her. She poked her head back through and he said, “Tell them… to stay strong. Tell them… I—I love them.” The words felt sour but he knew this lady – whoever she was – needed something, anything, from him. Not from me. From this body.

She sighed and nodded, leaving the room with the door slightly ajar.

Cor-Pog stayed on the edge of the bed, silent. I escape Sedragop’s Syndrome only to find myself in a worse mess: a family. He laid down and let sleep take him.

It finally did an hour later.



Cor awoke with a gag in his mouth.

A man with a scarred forehead was staring him in the face. Cor felt panicked when he realized he was also tied up. Not exactly my best day, I’d say.

“Wake wake, shake ‘n bake.” He grinned maliciously. Gaps outnumbered the teeth in his head and Cor wished the nightmare would end. “Come, now, Flipper. Time’s a wastin’.”

Cor was hauled to his feet and shoved through the door. They walked past the front desk where the clerk told the scarred man that Cor needed to pay his tab. The man reached into Cor’s pockets and threw all of his notes on the counter. “Oughta cover it,” he sneered and pushed Cor through the main door and into the street.

He fell in the gutter, face first. The gag absorbed fetid liquids and Cor knew he was going to throw up if he had to suffer through it any longer. “Up and up, Flipper. You failed to deliver and Toosga hates to be disappointed.”

Cor tried speaking around the gag but only managed some muffling. In any other town, a bound man might bring alarm to other citizens, but not in a place like Bentolla. Should’ve let the fornamite have me. Or Sedragop’s.

The scarred man shoved Cor down the walkway and stuffed him into a decrepit carriage, locking the door from the outside. The man went to the driver’s seat and began hollering for the horses to move. Cor felt true despair and he had never missed and hated Reg so much in his entire life.

Word Count: 1,000