The Worst is Still to Come

George had never been more miserable. He thought that joining the Dancing Wyrms was his big chance. The last outfit he was in never landed any decent contracts and as a new member he always got the c**p missions. Guarding ungrateful merchants who treated him like a glorified servant or babysitting the tax collector and getting treated like garbage by association.

When the Rook mercenaries went out of business and the one and only Wyrms offered to buy up the equipment and hire the out of work mercs he jumped at the chance. The Wyrms only took in the rank and file, not the fat cats who ran the Rooks into the ground. Goerge knew they appreciated the men who actually got the work done and he'd prove that only the best mercenary group in Border Town could showcase his talents.

Reality soon took the wind out of his sails. The Wyrms assigned him a fancy boy commander young enough to be his son and sent the squad as far away from the kind of action that would earn him fame and fortune as possible. Who the hell had ever heard of Clearspring Village!?

What was even worse was that he had to treat the backwater villagers like they were his own d**n grandparents. Commander goody two shoes never got tired of reminding them that Clearwater was their oldest and most lucrative contract. That the p**s poor villagers deserved nothing but the greatest respect. B******t! Those villagers should be kissing the ground he walks on.

Goerge's only solace was that most of the squad was made up of his old buddies from Rook. They said this would be "an effective training mission." The fare the farmers sent over to camp turned out to be pretty good too. He began to think the assignment wouldn't be so bad after all. He deserved to take it easy for a while, let the commander do the heavy lifting.

Things looked even better when he met a girl selling some kind of wood art in town. The carvings we're garbage but the girl was incredible. The kind of sweet young thing George had to get to know better. He arranged a meeting one on one for the next day on his patrol route. Listening to her sob story and offering to buy her awful art did the trick. He'd planned on bringing her back to camp that night since the commander and his aides were staying at the mayor's house. He'd show the boys how a real man does things!

But once again things did not go according to plan. That little s**t spit on him! And some brat from who knows where hit him in the eye with a rock. It was the last f*****g straw!

The boy had moved a little faster than he expected and was now out of sight but he continued to follow a very obvious trail. There was no chance in hell the brat was getting away.

"You like throwing rocks huh? How about I hang you on a tree branch and hit you with a few... dozen? See how you like it." Goerge had a cruel grin on his face and muttered to himself as he walked. Then his left eye throbbed and the grin turned into a scowl. Goerge picked up his pace. He'd teach the brat a lesson he'd never forget.

...

Crash!

Charlie plowed through a bramble bush and the blunt twigs left white scrapes on his exposed skin. He had no sense of direction but kept moving forward as fast his legs could take him. It took every ounce of willpower he had to not look back over his shoulder. Was Goerge closing in? Was that crunching sound his own footsteps or those of a large man about to pick him up by the collar and wring his neck?

He knew he had to keep running but his lungs were starting to ache and he was wheezing with every breath. After a morning of farm work this constant sprinting was draining him fast.

Charlie looked around frantically for any place he could hide. Just to stop and catch his breath. No bush was dense enough to hide inside and the trees were all too narrow to climb.

Charlie suddenly stumbled. While looking around he tripped into the declining side of a narrow dried up stream bed. That's when Charlie saw it. An overturned tree trunk lay on its side a few yards up the slope. With his size he could easily slide underneath.

Charlie did just that and found as comfortable a position he could that left no body part exposed. He did you best to control his now ragged breathing. His heart stopped beating so fast after a few moments of lying still and a great wave of exhaustion washed over his whole body. Charlie felt like sleeping for a week.

'I'm sure Rebecca made it out of the woods even with a hurt foot. Once she goes and gets help Goerge is done for. The whole village loves Rebecca and Old Joe would never let him off. I wouldn't be surprised if the old man barges into the Dancing Wyrms' camp all on his own and sends them packing.' Charlie let out a tired chuckle at the thought Old Joe swinging his cane and cursing the mercenaries so hard they'd want to curl up and die.

'I just need to wait a while and head back on my own. The villagers think I'm a nuisance but I can least back up Rebecca's story. They might even start to see me in different light! Charlie the hero. Charlie the brave. Charlie the courageous!' Charlie, who was dirty, exhausted, lost in the forest, and hiding under a rotting log with the worms felt pretty pleased with himself.

He imagined a heroic return to town, battered but not beaten. Rebecca crying tears of joy and jumping into his arms while Peter looked on jealously. The villagers would chant his name and lift him up on their shoulders! Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!

"Hehehehe." Charlie chuckled, tickled pink at the thought.

Snap!

Charlie shut his mouth and tensed like a startled rabbit.

"What a gross laugh. You sound like a perverted old man." Big C's head popped out from the underside of the log.

Charlie let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "Phew... It's only the useless ghost."

Big C frowned and his head did an impossible twist. "I already told you I'm not a ghost!" The disembodied head stopped spinning and Big C's eyes narrowed as he looked down at Charlie, "And who are you calling useless?"

Charlie was too tired and stressed to be intimidated. "Who else!?" He growled, voice getting louder. "I thought you had a plan!"

Charlie was going to continue his tongue lashing but the words got caught in his throat. He felt something grasp him by the ankle. He was being pulled out his hiding spot like a rat and that got caught by the tail.

"Ahhhhh!!" Charlie wailed and desperately clawed at the loose dirt under the log but it only stopped his ascent for moment before he was yanked so hard it felt like his leg was going to be torn off.

In a last desperate attempt Charlie tried to hold onto the tree trunk but the rotten wood and bark crumbled in his grip. Charlie blinked and when he opened his eyes he saw a face. An upsidedown face, with one eye closed and swollen and the other open and bloodshot.

Goerge held Charlie by the ankle one handed with ease. His face broke into an evil smile and he brought his sweaty face closer to the boy's.

"Hahaha!" Goerge cackled. "Talking to yourself? You aren't very good at hide and seek, are you boy?"

Before Charlie could even think a coherent thought Goerge lifted him higher in the air. Then with a grunt he spun Charlie's body around and slammed him into the hard ground like he was shaking out a rug.

Charlie bounced on the hard earth and fell down prone. The breath left his body and he couldn't even comprehend how much pain he was feeling.

Charlie tried to breathe but what air he managed to inhale was forced back out as Goerge's heavy boot landed on his back and pushed him into the dry dirt of the riverbed.

"Don't squirm around brat. I'll tie you up so you'll stay put. I'm going to give you a thorough education about respecting your betters."

"Ahhhhh." Charlie could barely make a sound but the pain was unbearable. He had no more thoughts of triumph and heroics, he just wanted to stop the hurting.

'Am I going to die like this?' Charlie thought while he heard Goerge rustling around for something out of sight.

Charlie's most cherished memory came to mind as if it was the last line of defense holding back the tide of despair.

...

He was ten years old and deeper in the forest than he should have been. The sun was disappearing over the horizon and Charlie was fearful he'd be lost in the dark. He wandered further but only got more and more lost. The sunlight vanished and Charlie was about to burst into tears listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the forest at night. Then a resplendent light lit up the night like a second sun but the light was so warm and soothing Charlie felt he could reach out and touch it. The golden light formed the silhouette of a person but the light was too blinding to make out any details.

"Hello little one." Charlie heard the figure speak, their voice was as pleasant as sinking into a warm bath. Charlie felt all his fear and uncertainty drift away like he'd never been hurt before.

"There, there. It's alright. I'd be ever so grateful if you could tell me the name of the closest human settlement." The figure asked and Charlie was only too eager to comply.

"Clearspring Village?" The immortal was quiet for a moment. "Ah, I see now."

Charlie felt a benevolent presence engulf his whole body and he only saw a blinding light and heard the voice of the deity. "Thank you child, be well. Take this token for your trouble."

Charlie opened his eyes and saw the lights of the village before him. He lifted a hand to his eyes and felt they were wet and stained with tears. He almost chalked the encounter up to a dream but then found a strange coin in his pocket. It was covered with unfamiliar symbols and felt hot to the touch. That coin became Charlie's most cherished possession and from that day on Charlie was not content with living an ordinary life.

...

In the present Charlie recalled that incident in a flash.

'No!' he thought. 'I can't die here! I want to meet that immortal again! I want to be that strong. To go where I want and help anyone I meet on the way! Free and happy!'

The threat of death brought out the deepest desire in Charlie's heart but struggle as he might he could not escape from under Goerge's boot.

"I told you to stay still!" Goerge said and slapped the back of Charlie's head causing him to choke on a mouthful of dirt.

Charlie's skull throbbed in agony and his eyes welled up with tears. He felt so ashamed of his own weakness. 'How could I ever become an immortal, I'm nothing at all.'

Charlie was about to close his eyes in despair when he heard a different voice.

"I may just be a useless ghost but I could help you help yourself if you ask real nice."

Charlie had never been so happy to hear Big C's condescending tone. "Please, big bro..." whispered Charlie weakly.

"Well how could your big bro say no to that?" Big C sounded happy. "I'm going to take your body over for a short while. Don't fight back when I hop in, you'll only hurt yourself."

"Fine." Charlie didn't care about anything else, he just wanted to live. His best just wasn't good enough. Might as well leave it up to fate. Fate or an annoying ghost.