Chapter 11 - It’s a Hell of a Way

"Urgh... my head..." Sam moaned pitifully, pressing the heels of his fists against his eyes. "Motherf-"

He had barely registered the pain when he felt a solid hit to his side that violently forced the air from his lungs. Curling into a ball to protect his tender stomach, he cried out for his system in confusion, "Alfie!"

"Who the devil is Alfie?" a deep voice barked from above Sam's quivering form. Instinctually he looked for a way to escape, but a strong, calloused hand with thick fingers dragged him up from the floor by the front of his shirt.

A foul odor assaulted Sam's nostrils as he came face to face with a red-faced, sweaty beast of a man. His eyes stung due to the stench, and he held his breath, attempting desperately to suppress the almost overwhelming urge to empty his stomach then and there. 

"Is 'Alfie' the reason you've left behind all these piles of filth to rot all day, boy?" the voice demanded scornfully.

With their faces so close together, Sam could feel the spittle splattering all over his face as it rushed from the disgusting hole lined with rotting teeth. It was as if even the man's own saliva couldn't bear to be trapped in that stench for even a moment longer.

Sam didn't fucking blame it. He squeezed his eyes closed and turned his face to the side, trying to get as far out of the line of fire as he could.

"Cheap whore," the man derided, growing bored from the lack of resistance before tossing the 'boy' away like trash. 

Sam cried out in pain as when he hit the floor, his ankle twisted into an unnatural position. 

He stretched out toward the throbbing appendage, but the brute interrupted his actions with another sharp kick to his side, knocking Sam's body back against the wall.

Fuck! Did this guy have to be such a bastard?!

Helplessly Sam's eyes darted around desperately for his system. However, there was no sign of either Alfie's human or animal form. He didn't dare to call out again, fearing it would only serve to further enrage the bull of a man beating him.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was happening to him. Where was he? Why was this happening? Where the hell was his system?!

The assailant towered over Sam, his bulging belly protruding over his belt and exposed by the greasy cloth of what masqueraded as a shirt on the man's sweat-drenched torso. The man's face was red, but his eyes were sharp and cold as he sneered down at him.

"Get up, you trash," the man growled, landing another kick, this time against the fleshy part of Sam's thigh when he didn't comply quickly enough. Sam hurried to support himself upright, wincing when he inadvertently put pressure on his ankle. 

However, the moment he was on his feet, the man's strong, rough hand wrapped itself around his neck and shoved him back against the wall. "You're damn lucky your face brings in the customers, or I'd have sold you to the vermin at the port ages ago."

While the hand at his throat did little to inhibit Sam's breathing, it did hinder the blood flow to his brain.* It took mere seconds for him to feel an uncomfortable pressure building behind his eyes, and his already addled thinking became even more muddled.

*It's actually pretty hard to choke someone by grabbing them around the throat. The structures in our necks are designed to specifically protect all the delicate tubes that pass through them, so when pressure is applied, the first thing that happens is that blood flow is restricted. Kind of like when you put pressure on any of your other pressure points.

His vision grew increasingly dark. However, before he could actually escape into the mercy of unconsciousness, the pressure of the man's hand suddenly disappeared. Sam stumbled momentarily but managed to weakly hold onto the wall and maintain his balance. A bucket filled with murky water, a thick bristled brush, and a rag that was more stain than cloth were shoved at him carelessly, and he only just managed to keep the contents inside the bucket by letting go of his hold on the wall. 

The man glared down at Sam, swaying unsteadily on his feet. A flicker of something that could have been sorrow, or even remorse, flickered through the man's steely grey eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Sam doubted whether or not he had actually seen it. "If this ever happens again, even your looks won't save you, boy."

With a parting shove, the man finally moved away, calling over his shoulder as he sauntered off, "We'll see how much this 'Alfie' of yours wants you once you've been used by all those thirsty sailors."

A throaty laugh echoed in his wake as he rounded the corner, leaving the corridor empty except for the lone, bedraggled wreckage that was Sam.

The moment the man was out of sight, the strength that Sam had been using to hold himself upright left as well, and his legs finally gave out, sending him crashing back to the floor. Miraculously most of the filmy water stayed in the bucket.

In the absence of the life or death pressure holding him together, an anguished sob broke free from Sam's throat, and pair of fat tears tumbled from where they had unknowingly been collecting on his lashes. 

What was happening? Where was his system? Why was he alone? This wasn't what he had agreed to!

Weren't they supposed to be partners?!

A soft, timid voice hesitantly spoke within the confines of Sam's mind. 'I'm here.'

"Where h-have you been?" Sam croaked, his tone strangled and bursting with accusation.

'I'm always with you,' Alfie replied. A bunny as dark as the starless sky materialized before him, its glowing violet eyes overflowing with concern. 'I am linked inextricably with your consciousness. Wherever you go, I go.'

Sam would have felt relieved to see the little black rodent if its words hadn't just confirmed that this useless thing had been sitting on its ass watching him get beat nearly to death.

"If you were here, why the fuck didn't you do anything?!" Sam hissed, furious.

'I have no physical form in this world,' the alpha system replied. 'For all intents and purposes, during our time here, I am essentially a ghost.'

As if to illustrate this point, one of the doors lining the hallway swung open, and a woman carrying a tray laden with food strode out. She passed through the patch of floor where Alfie sat on his haunches without so much as a ripple or burst of static.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sam erupted, his voice coming out louder than it should have, which startled him and caused him to look around furtively.

Alfie's chest tightened at the sight. The red mark where the man had laid hands on him was striking against the pale skin of Sam's fragile neck. Of course, Sam was right to be upset with him. Alfie was upset at himself. He had never felt so helpless in all his long life.

He had known in advance that there was a chance that some of their missions would involve danger and even that there would be times when his host may have to fight. However, nothing could have prepared him for the sheer brutality he had just witnessed.

"This is hell! A goddamn nightmare! What kind of shitty-ass scheme did you rope me into?" Sam demanded accusatorily, bitter tears pouring down his livid face. He wanted to strangle that cute little bunny until its glowing eyes popped out of its tiny skull. 

Alfie: '...' I didn't expect this either! QAQ

Cursing whatever careless system was in charge of calculating the entry point into this world, Alfie hopped over to his host and placed one of his little fluffy paws on Sam's knee. There was no going back now, so he would just have to make up for this egregious mistake in any way he could and hope that Sam would eventually get over it.

"You're a freaking jackass, you know that?" Sam scolded, but he didn't reject the offered comfort. He hadn't been that scared in a long time. Not since he'd left home at eighteen. 

Choaking on his tears, Sam whimpered pitifully, "I want to go back. I want you to fix it so I can go back and take my chances with heaven, hell, or whatever. I didn't sign up for this! It isn't remotely fair!"

'Please don't cry,' Alfie pled weakly. 'I know the situation looks bad right now, but there's nothing either of us can do to get out of it now. You signed the contract, and neither of us can leave until the mission is complete, and you... you..."

"Oh, that's just peachy," Sam snarked. He moved to wipe his tears with the rag he'd been given to clean the floor before discarding it with a look of repulsion and opted for his equally dirty yet far better smelling shirt.

If there was anything Sam had learned about this world in his short time here, it smelled terrible.

"So if I wanna get out of this mess," Sam sniffed hard, "I have to kill myself. Awesome."