012 Morning Woes
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I awoke to pain as the Hag kicked me in the chest. I coughed and gagged on some blood, then barely managed to not let it drip on the floor.

“Don't ever try to trick me into thinking I drank my own potions.” The Hag said. “I was drunk, not stupid.”

“I didn't... want you to... blame me... if I can't work today.” I choked out, my chest on fire. “You snapped... my knuckles and... broke my fingers last night.”

The Hag glared at me to see if I was lying, so I lifted my bloody hand to show her the still swollen knuckles. She grabbed my hand and felt the knuckles, then huffed.

“You didn't cry out.” The Hag said.

“You said... not to complain.” I responded, then coughed again and I couldn't stop the blood splatter this time as it went between my bloody fingers and sprayed on the floor.

“Don't waste it!” The Hag said and bodily picked me up and held my bloody mouth over her open mouth. I had a coughing fit from the sudden movement. I couldn't block the spray, because my arms were out to the sides, so I hacked up some blood and other fluids and spit them right into her mouth. She didn't react until I stopped coughing.

The Hag closed her mouth and swallowed what was in her mouth, licked her lips, then her eyes locked onto my blood-covered hands. I was suddenly on the bed and her rough tongue licked my hands and then she sucked on my fingers. I wasn't sure what I was feeling, because it was both disgusting and fascinating to me, which was really weird.

When my hands were clean, the Hag's wild eyes caught the blood on my mouth and chin.

_______________

You have a story changing choice to make. Will you make the right one or will you make another mistake?

A) Stay still. B) Struggle. C) Cough on her again. D) Kill her. E) Kiss her. F) Scream. G) Whimper.

What's with the kiss and kill options? I'm only eleven in the story so far! I thought in exasperation. I read the options and only one of them ensured that whatever she's planning to do won't last long. All of the others would make it last a lot longer and coughing on her didn't work at all. I have to stay still, so I choose A.

_______________

I didn't struggle or try to force myself to cough. I stayed perfectly still and the Hag moved in close and licked my chin clean. I felt a dribble of blood start to roll out of the side of my mouth and the Hag growled at me for trying to hold it in. She poked a finger into my cracked chest and I opened my mouth to scream in pain.

The Hag lunged forward and I felt something like suction as our lips locked together. I was filled with a tingling feeling and it was the weirdest I had ever felt before. Her tongue swirled around and cleaned my teeth and tongue. I could sense her swallowing up all the spit and blood that had gathered in my mouth and then she almost moaned as her weight on top of me caused my cracked chest to puncture my heart.

A gush of what I would later learn was my 'heart blood' flooded into my lungs and she sucked it up and into her own mouth. This time she did moan and kept sucking on my mouth. My body shuddered and then I started to shake uncontrollably as my lungs collapsed and I lost my ability to breathe. The Hag stopped sucking immediately and looked at what she had done. The tingling stopped and for some reason, I was both glad and sad about it.

The Hag took out the potions I had found in her pockets and she held up the number four potion. “You need to drink!” She said and popped the cork, then tried to tip it into my mouth. It just gathered at the back of my throat and didn't go anywhere. “DRINK IT, DAMN YOU!”

If I had any breath, I would have laughed and told her that I had forgotten how to swallow in my panic to try to breathe.

“Fine.” The Hag said and her knife suddenly appeared in her other hand. I felt the knife slide easily into the top of my throat and then she sliced down to the top of my sternum. I screamed mentally, because I felt the intense pain of having my throat be split and I couldn't scream for real. I couldn't even choke as she used two of her fingers to push the bit of number four potion down my now completely open throat and down my esophagus and into my stomach.

To my surprise, she stopped and took out the number nine potion, the fortifying potion, then she poured that down my throat. NO! I thought as I remembered what it did to the wood planks.

“Quiet and let me work, foolish child.” The Hag said and poured the rest of the number four potion into the exposed hole of my throat, partially sat me up to let it flow into my stomach, and held me there as she dug out my stub knife from my belt. I could only stare at her as she made a dozen quick slices across the slit she had carved into my neck with her own knife, then she held the skin together.

I didn't feel the fortifying potion, I assumed because the healing potion was taking effect as well. It was either that, or I had blacked out and missed some time. I wasn't sure. I hadn't taken a breath in a long time. I felt my body tingle as the healing potion flowed out of my stomach and I finally felt my lungs expand. My ribs popped out and back into place and my sternum snapped back together. I felt the smaller cuts across my neck knit back together and expected to feel the long slit fix itself as well, and it didn't.

I took in a long and deep breath and I thought I felt my throat flex, when it shouldn't. I reached up to touch it with my fingers and felt the long and jagged slice that was still in my neck with twelve cross-hatched slices that had healed and were holding it together. I opened my mouth to speak and only a gurgle came out.

“Your body has been fortified with a potion intended for solid objects.” The Hag said, as if that explained everything. “You might get the use of your voice back. Or not.”

I waved at my throat and then at her.

“It's a magic knife. The damage it causes is permanent.” The Hag said and shrugged. “That's what you get for almost dying on me when I'm feeding.”

_______________

You have another choice. Good luck. You've been making absolutely wonderful choices so far that have worked out so well for you.

A) Show anger. B) Show sadness. C) Cry. D) Pee yourself. E) Ask for the knife. F) Run. G) Sleep.

You're the one giving me these choices, asshole. I thought and read them again. Those don't help me at all. None of them. How the hell am I supposed to make things better for myself if all you give me are bad choices? I sighed. You know what? Never mind. I'm going to do what I want, so fuck your stupid choices. If she ends up killing me, then it's your fault. When I play through this again, I request the same narrator that helped me during my other story be assigned to me.

When no message appeared, I nodded.

In fact, I'd like him to be assigned permanently to my gaming profile, assuming he's okay with that. I thought. For now, I'm going to choose E.

_______________

I opened my mouth and thought about getting angry about it, then remembered who I was dealing with. I held in my sigh and motioned for the knife.

“You want revenge, do you?” The Hag asked with a growl and eased away from me.

I shook my head, because she misunderstood me. I pointed to my stub knife and she handed it over without a word. I slowly stood and all of my muscles were stiff. I walked over to what looked like a bathroom and inside was a piece of shiny metal behind the sink. I looked at the reflection of the horrible jagged scar the Hag left, sighed, then raised my knife to my neck.

The Hag was instantly there and grabbed my hand. “I won't let you kill yourself.” She said. “I need you and the sweet escape of death is a long, long time away for you.”

I turned the knife over and touched her skin with it.

“Go ahead. I'll remove your remaining fingers and...” The Hag started to say, then I made a very small cut, then another, then another, in a neat and tight little row. She saw her hand heal after a moment and then she looked at my neck. She nodded and let my hand go.

I turned back to the reflective metal and used my stub knife as I made many, many small incisions into my skin. It hurt... oh god did it hurt... and I never made a sound or flinched as I repeated the tiny cuts all the way down my throat.

To my surprise, very little blood came out, even with hundreds of tiny cuts. When it did, it was slow, like tree sap. I assumed that was thanks to the fortifying potion and I was grateful, because the Hag didn't have another number four potion on her. I knew who had a lot of them, though.

Diane that worked in the general store.

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