Martin grumbled as he walked to nowhere in particular. He had no goal in mind or any specific direction he wanted to go.
His plan was to just keep moving along this dirt road until he found a town or something, and wouldn't you know it, after about a half hour, he found a town.
"Oh, thank the Lord!" Martin shouted; he was panting like a dog from the heat, with sweat rolling off him. At this point, the man was practically drenched.
He ran into the town and immediately noticed how delapadated it was. The buildings, which looked unsurprisingly medieval in design, were falling apart from possibly years of neglect.
The cobblestone streets were cracked and covered in trash; there was also the occasional pothole. Martin nearly tripped and twisted his ankle in one of them.
"The fuck man, why is this place so crappy? The buildings are falling apart, the streets are crumbling, and I can't find anyone!" Martin yelled in annoyance.
Eventually he found some people walking around in the streets near the center of the town. They were all dressed in ragged clothing similar to his, and at least half of them were drunk off their asses. Martin watched as they staggered from side to side, reeking of piss and vomit. He tried pinching his nose to block out the stench, but it didn't really help much.
'The hell is wrong with this place? And how come the people are giving me weird looks?' Martin wasn't the best at recognizing social cues, but he could tell the people were not very pleased to see him.
Their stares ranged from irritation to bewilderment, like they couldn't understand how he could be here. This only added to his growing confusion. Did these people know who this guy was before Martin took over his body?
"Hey, it's the worthless bastard Darius!"
It looks like he was about to get his answer. Martin turned around and saw some drunk guy holding a large bottle of booze walking with shaky steps toward him.
The man giggled like an idiot when he got in front of him. He was a little too close for comfort; it was clear this intoxicated man didn't understand the concept of personal space.
Martin's face was scrunched up in disgust from the awful smell that assaulted his nostrils; he couldn't even listen to what he was babbling about due to the horrible stink coming off of him.
"What are you doing back? *burp* Didn't those guys dump you out in the desert or some shit? *burp*"
Martin was about to beat whoever this man was. He kept burping in his face, and it was seriously pissing him off. His attitude was also getting on his nerves. It was obvious he had no respect toward him, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol.
"Hey, whoever you are! You better back off before I... *burp*" The guy interrupted him by burping in his face again, and that has been the last straw.
He punched the drunk man in his Adams apple, causing him to choke and drop his bottle. He then fell onto his ass, gasping for air as he held his throat. Martin was still angry and didn't plan on stopping there. He grabbed the bottle he dropped and slammed it into the side of his head, shattering the bottle and knocking the guy out cold.
"Damn Jackass." That was the only thing Martin said before casually throwing the broken bottle and leaving like nothing had ever happened.
The few people on the streets look positively shocked by his sudden actions, but they were even more shocked by his nonchalant attitude about it.
"What the fuck! Isn't that Darius?"
"It's definitely him, but when did that timid loser grow some balls?"
The people murmured amongst themselves; however, one of them, who looked particularly surprised, ran off somewhere in a hurry.
Martin was oblivious to what was going on around him. His only concern at the moment was getting some water. The weather was scorching hot and he was dying for a cold drink. He went to the very center of the town, where he noticed a stone well.
Martin looked down into it but it was sadly empty.
"Oh, come on, I just want a little water!" Martin shouted in frustration. "Pfft, hahahaha!" Out of nowhere, Martin heard someone laughing at him.
Martin quickly swiveled around to find the source of the mocking laughter and saw some blonde-haired bimbo giggling from the upstairs window of what was evidently a whore house.
Martin growled before screaming, "Hey, you slut! Wanna come down here and try laughing to my face?!" His face, turning red from anger and embarrassment.
The woman's lovely blue eyes bulged when he heard what he said, but she swiftly regained her composure, shouting back at him.
"Darius, you fool! That well has been dry for years also, what did you just call me? Wait until Ethan finds out what you said to me; him and his two buddies will kick your ass and toss you outside of town again!"
Martin didn't respond; he just growled some more before angrily stomping away. He was rendered speechless by his rage and couldn't even be bothered to listen to anything she was saying to him.
The woman was flabbergasted by his behavior and could only look on with pure confusion as he stomped off. The Darius she knew would never get so angry or shout and curse like that.
"Maybe those guys hit him in the head too hard." She said with an annoyed look while scratching her head before she closed the window.
Martin swore under his breath as he was stomping down the street.
"Stupid fucking bitch! Talking to me like that, I'd should slap her up side her whore...
His pissed-off rant was cut short when he was stopped in the middle of the street by three tough-looking guys.
"Hello Darius," said the guy in the middle.
The only thing Martin could think of at this moment was.
'Who have these people been talking about?'