Lance's eyes burned as he stared at the sterile white ceiling of his hospital room, the beeping monitors punctuating the silence, a sound he was all too familiar with, something he was unsure was keeping him from insanity or driving him to it. Lance was only twenty-three, yet his body felt like it belonged to a man five times his age.
He used to be quite a healthy youth carrying on with life just like every normal boy his age would. All that changed after he finished university and went home to visit his parents' tombstones. From a sudden collapse, his life became grim, as fate mocked him straight to his face.
The doctors had called it a "rare terminal illness," a name as vague and unhelpful as their prognosis. For months, Lance had lain in this bed, the world outside slipping further away with every passing day.
The weight of his condition crushed him completely from the onset. He experienced not just physical agony but the hollow sense of loss deeply rooted itself in his very soul, it felt like. His dreams of adventure, love, and purpose had evaporated, leaving behind a shell of a man waiting for the inevitable. His condition couldn't be treated after all, the only hope being that the doctors were working on finding a way to extend his life through management therapy, though, there had been no positive news so far.
He had no close family, no one to sit by his bedside and hold his hand. His parents had died in an accident years ago, and friends, while well-meaning, had their own lives to attend to. Lance had resigned himself to his lonely fate.
As the light in his vision began to dim, he couldn't help but wonder if he would even be remembered.
The last thought that flickered through his mind was simple and desperate, 'If I get another chance… I want to live.'
…
The world became a soothing pitch black as Lance felt himself going into a comforting embrace of the darkness. He felt a sense of peace for a moment… well, that didn't last long either.
A burst of sensation jolted Lance awake. He gasped, his body aching as he jolted to his feet, his hands grasping at coarse dirt beneath him. His eyes darted around, taking in the scene of chaos and bloodshed that surrounded him, the air filled with screams and wailing. Gone were the sterile walls and quiet beeping of the hospital.
More than anything, Lance was confused and unsure of what kind of situation he was in. If it was a dream, he surely hadn't experienced anything this real, and why would he even dream about such vile scenes in the first place?
After looking around a bit and observing his surroundings, he came to the understanding that he was in some sort of camp. The design of it all and the aesthetics appeared primitive, chaotic, and as if that wasn't enough, he noticed the corpses littered around were all strange, humanoid figures. Their green skin and sharp features marked them as something eerily striking to a goblin.
"What the hell…" Lance muttered, only to choke on his words as a scream pierced the air.
As he looked over to see what was happening, Lance saw a green-skinned goblin, her face twisted in fear and determination as she lunged at a towering male goblin wielding a crude stone axe. She was no taller than his chin but fought with unrelenting ferocity. The male goblin batted her aside like a rag doll, his cruel laughter almost muffled amidst the other screams.
The goblin camp, as it would seem, was in shambles. Some of the crudely constructed tents and barricades were ablaze, casting a flickering orange glow against the darkened sky. Female goblins, smaller and more agile, darted around the camp, wielding spears and knives, desperately trying to repel their attackers. The larger, brutish male goblins that were armed with clubs and axes fought with ruthless aggression.
Lance stumbled backward, his heart racing. His head throbbed as fragmented memories of his past life and the reality before him clashed. 'Where am I? How am I here?'
His sense of self seemed to have left and returned to him in the fraction of a second as she witnessed the onslaught before his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to return to reality however, nothing worked. No matter how much he questioned, the answer never came.
One of the female goblins, her long black hair tied into a messy braid, threw a spear with startling precision, piercing the throat of a male goblin. The attacker fell to his knees, clutching at the weapon as blood spurted from the wound. The woman's triumph was short-lived, however, as another male goblin charged her from behind, swinging a jagged club.
Lance barely had time to react. Instinctively, he grabbed a loose branch near his feet and hurled it at the attacker. The branch smacked the goblin across the face, halting his swing and giving the woman enough time to whirl around and stab him with her dagger.
She looked at Lance, her sharp yellow eyes narrowing in confusion and suspicion, but she said nothing before turning back to the battle.
'What did I just do? I need to leave this place, if not, I will end up like these dead bodies on the ground.' He thought to himself.
The chaos continued. The air was thick with the smell of blood and burning wood. Screams of pain and rage mingled with the sounds of metal clashing against bone. Lance felt helpless, out of his depth.
Though he tried to escape, every direction seemed to have these green skinned creatures scattered around.
Despite their tenacity, the female goblins were clearly outmatched. Their smaller stature and weaker weapons made it difficult to hold their ground. For all Lance had observed, only one or two of the female goblins really made a difference, the rest were only as good as cannon fodder. For every male goblin they managed to kill, two more seemed to take their place.
Lance's gaze swept over the battlefield, and he couldn't help but feel the helplessness the female goblins must have felt. He had no idea who was in the right and who was not, but as every human had the tendency to root for the underdogs, Lance had unknowingly taken the side of the weaker side. These women fought with everything they had, yet it was clear this was not a fair fight. The attackers' superior strength and numbers were overwhelming.
A young goblin girl, barely more than a child in Lance's perspective, cried out as she was dragged toward a male goblin with a wicked grin plastered on his face. Something inside Lance snapped. Without thinking, he lunged forward, grabbing a broken spear from the ground. His muscles burned as he sprinted, but adrenaline drowned out the pain.
With a desperate shout, Lance swung the spear at the male goblin, striking him in the side of the head. The goblin howled, releasing the girl and turning toward Lance with murder in his eyes. Lance tightened his grip on the spear, his breath ragged as he prepared for the inevitable retaliation. Even he himself couldn't believe what he was doing at the moment, or where he even found the courage.
Before the goblin could strike, the same female goblin from earlier leaped onto his back, plunging her dagger into his neck. He collapsed with a gurgled scream, his blood pooling beneath him.
"Who… who are you?" the female goblin asked, her voice harsh but laced with curiosity.
"I… I don't know," Lance replied, his voice trembling. He wasn't lying. He truly had no idea who or what he was anymore, or what was going on.
A look of confusion surfaced on the goblin's face, but she didn't linger for long.
The battle raged on around Lance as he found a place to hide himself for the time being.
A short while later, the attackers began to finally lose momentum. The female goblins, fueled by desperation, managed to push the remaining males back, forcing them to retreat into the forest.
The camp fell silent save for the crackling of flames and the soft cries of the wounded. Lance, watching from behind a bush around the centre of the camp, dropped the broken spear he had picked up, his legs giving out beneath him as he fell backwards to his butt. He stared at his bloodstained hands, his chest heaving as he tried to process everything.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't some hallucination brought on by medication either.
This was too real, way too real.