Blood welled on the surface of his arm. The son of a bitch didn’t hesitate at all, he just went straight for an attack. Thomas pushed himself back to his feet, backing away from his opponent.
Still, the man moved towards him, ready to beat him down. While he found himself in these types of situations a lot, he still never bothered to learn how to fight. Usually he could talk his way out of any situation he got himself into.
“Okay, I can see you’re rather angry. I get it, I’m not the nicest person. But attacking me won’t help. If you let me leave now, I won’t press any charges, but if you keep going I will get you sent to jail.” As he talked he looked around, trying to find somewhere he could run to, some way to get around his assailant. Any exit he might have had was just far enough away that he couldn’t get there before he was attacked again.
“Jail isn’t a pretty place, I’ll tell you. There are fights every day, and when you’re the new one, they pick on you.” His attacker moved forward still, ready to take Thomas down. He didn’t have much further he could go until he was pushed into a corner.
“Alright, look. I’m sorry.” As he was finishing his statement, he grabbed a chair that was resting next to him and swung it at the man. It smashed into his chest, breaking two of the legs off on the impact. Hoping the attack would be distraction enough, Thomas bolted, pushing the drunk away as he moved towards the door. He heard a thump, and he looked back to see the man now on the ground.
With a small sigh of relief, he made his way out of the bar.
The cut would need stitches. He kept telling himself that as he sat on his couch, wrapping a bandage around the wound. Going to the hospital would bring up too many questions. Questions that he didn’t want to deal with.
Thomas gave a sigh, pushing himself to his feet again. The bandage would stop most of the blood for the night. If it still looked bad in the morning, he’d go to the hospital. For now, all he could think about was getting food. He moved towards the door of his apartment, leaving the mess of medical stuff to clean up later.
It was cold outside, a chill breeze blowing through the city. His jacket didn’t do much to protect him from the wind, the air just blew right through it. He didn’t mind the cold too much, but it’d get worse the longer he was outside.
He headed across the street, to a burger joint on the corner. He had eaten here at least once a week, usually more. It wasn’t the best burger, but it was up there. The waitress there had learned what he usually got, and had it out to him with a few minutes of him sitting down. He walked into the restaurant, a small bell ringing as he opened the door.
“Oh, hey Thomas. The usual, today?” The waitress had a sweet voice, one that could soothe just about anyone.
“Yea.” He barely got the word out, before giving a small grunt. He was more sore than he’d thought. The punches he’d received probably left some big bruises on his chest. More questions at the hospital tomorrow.
He got back to his apartment at midnight. He’d spent most of the night talking with the waitress, which he did almost every time he’d gone to the place. Next time, he kept telling himself. Next time I’ll ask her out.
Thomas gave a sigh, pushing himself to his feet again. He wasn’t tired yet, even with the late hour and the pain coursing through his body. He set himself down on the VR chair, pulling the helmet on. He hadn’t played in a while, and it was a good stress reliever. The helmet made that familiar whirring sound.
“Choose your character.”