Jack had told me he was an orphan and grew up in an Orphanage. I am the MC but he got that orphan package in my place.
Anyway, since he was the final boss of degeneracy and if fetishes were a person, I said half jokingly and fully seriously that the place he was brought up in must be a brothel under the pretense of an Orphanage.
To that, out of all the things Jack could have said, he replied:
"Maybe. I don’t know. Though, I did saw many workers there walking with a limp after finishing their work."
At this, I had no words.
I can’t even abuse him as simply as saying his mother is a whore, because that might be a fact and a fact isn’t an insult.
[ That’s not a simple abuse at all! You are sullying his mother. The Hero King shouldn’t do this! ]
’Oh yeah? Then is it alright for the hero king to spend time with a ghost who drools over any walking creature that can breed and wants to jerk off while standing? And this is on the good days.’
[ ... I take it back. Do whatever the hell you want. ]
I shook my head like a disappointed chimpanzee after seeing its evolved version and focused back on Jack again.
"Alright, Jack. I will use my own leg to throw this guard away, alright? Just agree to tell me the directions, okay?"
"Yes. You should have this from the start, pal. You wasted so much time for nothing."
My lips twitched. "Yeah. My bad."
"It’s fine. I forgive you." Jack said and before I could retort, he continued: "Now kick the guard away so that I can come in front of you and tell you the way."
I let go of my urge to curse him or use a vacuum cleaner on him and went on to take the risk of kicking the burning guard with my real, bodily fluids dripping, human blood infused leg.
Holding the dead body with both of my hands now like a mother of two kids from different fathers, I turned to face the burning guard.
He was still running around my periphery as if he was a bee stranded in a paper flower shop and one wrong movement from me and one lucky movement from him would turn me into a ghost rider who rides scooters.
Pushing him away was as vital as loyal wives now and since Jack refused me to use his leg, all the responsibility came on me.
Of course, I could ignore Jack and use his fake leg but what if he went against me—like the kid who falsely confessed that I kidnapped him in court when I only wanted to keep him with me for just three hours—if I did that.
Yes, Jack can’t touch me but he can shout, people can see him and what if in his anger, he shouts my location like google maps after stealing data to all the guards and helps them in capturing me.
Yes, he can’t move more than five meters away from his body but five meters was still enough for him to wreck my escape. Five meters of distance means nothing if you are horny. I am saying this from experience.
That’s why angering him wasn’t a good choice, until I am not out of this prison at least.
I took a deep breath, found courage from the smelly, cholesterol-stored corners of my heart and slowly raised my right leg like a dog seeing a pole.
I hope I will be able to generate enough power to make this guard go away. Since they were monsters. I mean, they have been burning for all this time like women in the early centuries and not even one of them died. They were destroyed but they were still breathing and walking, hell, they were running.
"You can do it, pal. Just believe in yourself. Raise your leg higher so I can see your bulge too."
"Shut up for a second. Let me lock in. And no peeking bulges."
Jack, surprisingly, obliged but I paid no mind to it.
This guard comes first. Or last, I don’t know his stamina. Fuck. Stop the comedy, Racis. This is serious.
[ Glad you said that. ]
The system obliged too and now I was ready.
My right leg was in the air and all I had to do was to kick the guard’s chest—like the woman from whom I asked if she could step on me—with full power and move my feet away before it could catch fire.
I hope it works just like I imagined in my head, unlike real sex.
Alright. Here goes nothing.
I braced myself and raised my leg fully.
Then with my feet with the white slippers with two blue rubber strips as they were the part of the dress code of my night dress, I waited for the guard to reach closer to me, and when he did I landed my feet straight on his chest.
I kicked the guard’s chest and the last time I kicked someone this hard was when I saw two kids beating a disabled man and I had joined in. Thıs text ıs hosted at novèlfire.net
As soon as my feet made contact with his burning chest, I retracted it and the guard stumbled a few steps back.
The guard stumbled back.
My kick had enough power!
But damn, that fire was something else.
I can still feel the fire on my feet.
It’s like it is on fire right now.
[ Because it is on fire, motherfucker! You burned your leg! ]
My right foot was on fire. Like real fire.
Jack instantly came towards me. He brought his face closer to my burning right foot.
"One touch and you caught fire? What kind of fire conductor feet do you have, pal?! Let me taste them!"
"You fucker, that’s not how you turn an disaster into opportunity! Help me!"
"How? I can’t do anything. Even when I said let me taste them I only meant to allow me to feel it. I won’t be able to taste them anyway."
"Take your mind out of the gutter and do something!"
"Well..." Jack moved his head back from my foot. He stroked his chin.
"What are you doing!?" I barked. "Do something!"
"Alright. Have a look at this."
Jack moved his hands as fast as he could and...
He really did something.
He dropped his pants.
"You son of a bitch! What the fuck did you do that for?!"
"Well, you told me to do something. And I thought you would want to see this."
"Why would I want to see your transparent meat hanging while I am literally a few inches away from burning mine!?"
"I don’t know, alright?" Jack retorted back. "I have read somewhere people show their true selves in their last moments. And your face screams that you want to get pounded so hard that you forget you were ever gay."