Chapter 2 - How Ziggy Became a Statue on Venice 626

𝘼 𝙍𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙊𝙈 𝙁𝙊𝙊𝘿𝙏𝙍𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙀𝘿 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝘿𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘿, but no-one really paid attention. If you asked a passerby, the truck for "Crowley's Cakes" had been there the whole time and they'd keep walking. Of course, the young man himself gave anyone who asked him a Cheshire smile and hopped off to wherever his phone told him to go.

This led him to seek refuge in the shop where Little Ol' Me worked during my shift - bringing a bunch of robots behind him.

Destroying everything in the process, may I add?

It went down as follows:

I told the creepy kid from the counter that I had books to unpack - and that was false.

I actually sat in the backroom with a book in hand, a notebook and pen to the right of me, and sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. My eyes were closed as I was letting my finger slide down the lines waiting for something in my gut to tell me to stop. I felt at peace doing this. Something in the back of my mind made me feel relaxed while I searched for answers in books.

Despite the dampness off the back storage room, the drip-drip-drip from the leaky pipe, and the smell of aging paper permeating the air - I felt more at peace here than anywhere else.

𝘽𝘼𝙉𝙂!

My concentration broke and I bolted to my feet. "By, Danu, that better have not been one of the -"

I smelt smoke.

"FUCK!" I exclaimed before running out of the back room.

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𝘾𝙊𝘽𝘽𝙇𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙌𝙐𝙄𝘾𝙆𝙇𝙔 𝘽𝙀𝘾𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙈𝙔 𝙀𝙉𝙀𝙈𝙔. The entire city - its streets and walkways that weren't flooded with iridescent purple water meant to bring some sort of good fortune as well as the annoyingly cute buildings and shops - was made of it. How did they procure this much gods-be-damned -

"Ziggy," the accented voice of my companion gave away that even he needed a breather. "Are you alright?" I found out that we hid ourselves in a dark alleyway. My intuition screamed at me to run once my brain began functioning just enough to only be aware of places and people and things. There was something off at this moment of taking a breather, my instincts sounded like an annoying smoke alarm.

I shook my head no.

My side felt stabbing pains. My lungs felt nothing filled them. My head felt too heavy to be attached to my body. My barren throat killed any words I tried to say.

(Perhaps this was due to the fact that I'd curse him out at this point.)

"Al?" I wheezed and coughed. My heart hammered into my chest much too quickly.

"I'm okay."

Liar.

I stepped out into the blinding light of the pink sun, the dying sun. A hiss alerted me to the coming of the Gorgon, and I dived into the alley way. "Al, we gotta think of a plan," I told him.

"I know that," he spat at me.

Wait, this felt familiar...

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"𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄𝙉 𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙐'𝙎 𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘿𝙊𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙋?"

I got pulled down instead of answered. "Are you insane?" The man hissed as a bolt of bright blue plasma singed the wall behind us.

"Dagda's Cauldron! What was that?"

"Plasma gun," the man answered with a shrug. He rolled his eyes too, and I refused to slap him for the sole reason of being under fire. "What? You've never seen one before?" The sarcasm needed to be worked on, but I understood a joking Irishman when I heard 'em.

"No, actually, I haven't," I hissed as another plasma ray just missed the tops of our heads. "We need to move, now!" I told him.

"That's bloody suicide!"

"So is staying here!"

𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙢!

We looked at each other and nodded. That did not sound good at all. Grabbing my hand, the new guy sprinted off into the fray. Dodging pink plasma and shattering debris, he asked me one question. "Can you run?"

"I think so," I answered despite the hammering in my chest and the constricting of my chest. Also, were those black spots in my vision? I don't normally have this much adrenaline coursing through my veins... yeah might want to keep this all qui-

"RUN!"

Off we went again. "We need to think of a plan!" I exclaimed as we bolted down alleyways and sidewalks on main roads. The air bit at my cheeks and nose as we continued at his breakneck pace.

"I know that!" The mysterious man spat at me. He ended up taking refuge in a decor-and-clothing shop called T.J. Eliot's. My mom loved to shop here, but that was besides the point. As we hid behind stacks of miscellaneous knick-knacks, I saw something that maybe of use.

"Hey, does plasma break reflective surfaces?" I asked.

"Depends upon the setting of the blaster and how reflective, the Astrobots can be quite vain sometimes and -" I turned his face towards the giant looking glass. "Ooh," was all he said.

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"𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖," I broke the silence that was punctuated with heavy breathing and rushed thoughts about what we'd do if we make it out of here alive. The air stilled as the Gorgon came closer to our hiding spot. I glanced at Alistar and gave him a weak smile. "Use your sword to cut off her head, after I go out there."

"Ziggy," Al called after me as I marched out there.

(Well, it was more of a tired limp, if one saw me.)

"Ziggy don't be stupid! Ziggy come back! Ziggy-"

I unsheathed my broadsword and whistled. The Gorgon stopped. "Hey, Snake Lady," I called. "Persus called, he wants your ugly-ass head back in a fridge!" That got her to turn and face my way. "You wanna know why everyone turns to stone when they stare at you? It's because you're hideous now!" She hissed and lunged. Her eyes glowed a menacing gold and I rose my blade.

Problem was I couldn't feel my feet. They were too heavy to move.