Chapter Three

Eitr moved to the first cage, while Gore slipped into a Lien-Teh suit, an early version of a Hazmat suit made from vulcanised leather, with its oxygen pack and goldfish bowl helmet.

“Subject eighty-eight,” Gore said, lifting paper on a clipboard. “Name Unknown. Family annihilator. Killed a whole family and their friend who was staying the night. Before escaping, he pleasured himself with a slice of bacon and left it by the child’s bed, hence the name ‘The Pedo-Wank murders.”

“Another gift to society,” Eitr said, rolling up his sleeve.

“I dropped some sweat samples into his food, and he’s been hallucinating for the past few hours non-stop. The effect seems to last longer with the fewest samples.”

“I see. My blood is poisonous, but the sweat is considered hallucinogenic”

“Please avoid farting in a crowd.”

Eitr shook his head.

“That comment would hurt if it weren’t so scarily true.”

“You haven’t suffered any side effects, though.”

“My body is entirely poisonous: the flesh, blood, bones and organs. It’s a miracle that I made it out of the womb.”

“Technically, skin counts as an organ.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I am surprised you haven’t spent your whole life tripping…”

“Balls!” Eitr said and frantically put on gloves. “Nearly contaminated the area.”

They moved onto the next cage, which had two leery-looking men chained up.

“Another couple of award winners.” The servant said. “Career kidnappers who spent the last decade snatching up little girls and…” Gore didn’t even have to finish the sentence when a purple smog burst out of Eitrs’ hand and suffocated the two men. When the mist dispersed, all that was left were two drained corpses frozen in a permanent expression of inescapable horror. “...and never mind.”

Eitr flexed his hand.

“I was too eager.”

“Well, it’s been a stressful day,” Gore said and looked away when Eitr turned to face her.

The young royal continued to look at his hand, while it billowed ribbons of purple smoke.

“It seems the more angry I am, the more violent the reaction.”

“Stands to reason…”

They continued to discuss in a huddle with their backs to the cages, unaware that one of the locks was being picked.

Before they knew it, one of the more feral prisoners snatched a scalpel from a nearby table and sprinted at them.

Eitr pushed Gore out of danger and defended himself with a couple of crossed brooms.

The crazed man leapt back and stooped low, wiping his mouth and keeping the blade high

Eitr dropped a broom and hid the other away from sight, in an on-ken samurai stance.

Not waiting for an invitation, the crazed man launched himself at the young man, who moved out of the way and kicked his opponent’s behind as he charged past.

The man crashed into a table of twisty glass laboratory equipment, which contained liquids and spilt dry ice.

“The bubbling science table!” Gore cried.

Enraged, the crazed prisoner picked himself up and threw a glass bottle at Eitr, who was momentarily distracted. This was enough to give the prisoner enough time to close the distance at a speed which surprised Eitr, who pushed the brush end of the broom into the man's face.

Once again, he booted the man toward a small piece of equipment, which seemed to do nothing but flash a variety of coloured bulbs.

“The blinking lights machine!”

“You’re not helping!” Eitr said, somewhat annoyed.

“Sorry sir!”

The prisoner, now apoplectic with rage, tore his shirt and barreled toward Eitr like a Rhino possessed, picking up a handsaw on the way.

The spike in strength was shocking, and Eitr was forced down on the floor, as the prisoner brought the handsaw close to the young man’s cheek, to the point where it drew blood. This seemed to spur the prisoner on, sensing victory.

Frantically looking around, Gore looked in a panic and spotted a jar of curry powder.

Working on instinct, she threw a handful of powder into Eitr’s face.

The young man sneezed violently, most of it landing on the crazed prisoner.

The effect was instant. The prisoner shook his head and stepped back, looking around in confusion, as he started batting an invisible enemy.

The man grunted in anger and snapped out some profanities into thin air, before black liquid streaked from his eyes and he coughed up dark green saliva.

Death was slow but inevitable until the crazed prisoner gurgled his last and the body seized up and lay still, with his blackened tongue hanging out.

Eitr bent forward in exhaustion, as Gore handed him a towel.

“Sorry,” The servant said. “It’s the first thing I thought of.”

“It did the job, that’s all that matters,” Eitr said, wiping his neck. “I guess we’re going to need some new guinea pigs.”

Gore removed the hazmat suit, shrugged on her blue tailcoat, and flattened the knee breeches she wore above Hessian boots.

“I’ll notify the prison.” She said.

***

Eitr waved a thanks and headed for the circular platform, spotlit with moonlight.

Across the magic-activated bridge was the result of a miswritten spell circle. What should have been a simple hero summon ended up bringing a mysterious object from another world.

The thing was an unusual amalgamation of metal, glass, and rubber, an anomaly that perplexed even the brightest minds in the Principality and beyond.

Luckily, last year, someone from the capital brought a book containing a ‘Translation spells for the neighbourhood Galaxy.’

“That’s convenient.” Eitr had said.

“Yes, it moves the plot along.” Gore had replied.

Finally, they were able to decipher the other world's language.

According to the back of the object, it appeared to be something called a ‘N*ss*n Cube’.

When it arrived out of a halo of lights, the doors were already open, which meant someone somewhere in another world had to watch their vehicle slowly fade and disappear, leaving that person completely dumbfounded.

Here in the fantasy world,  royals and priests had gathered around and peered inside with open-mouthed fascination.

After a year, the top people had made no progress in the investigation and left it as an unsolved ancient mystery.

What they did find were documents left in a cardboard box; a stack of visual stories known as ‘Manga’, which Eitr found confusing with titles such as:

‘Reincarnated as an American-style Diner.’  Eh? The MC can’t move? How does that work?

‘Reborn as Math and nothing else. Just Math’  Just Math!? That’s it?

‘In another world where the dark-haired MC has cheat skills and nothing of consequence follows’.

Eitr stamped the books into a waste-paper bin.

He found some more.

‘Disowned as classless by noble family’

Eitr sighed. I’ve read fifteen of these already.

‘Kicked out of the heroes' party, I become stronger with a conveniently hidden skill.’

I have read twenty of these.

Tired, Eitr slumped on a velvet chaise-lounge and draped a tired arm over his eyes.

Opening his hand, he examined a journal belonging to the owner of the 'Cube'. Not sure what he could do with it, Eitr had a feeling it would come in handy.

‘

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