Diamond in the Rough

Hello, I'm Masayoshi!

This is another one of my side projects to give me something to do before I head to work each work morning.

The title doesn't really pertain to the story at all, it's just my personal opinion of myself as an author ^_^.

Feel free to give me feedback and criticism as much as possible!

I hope you enjoy it!






I was running. From what, and to where? I couldn't tell you. It seemed very real, though. I didn't look back or slow down - I felt like if I did, I would die. As my lungs burned and every muscle fiber screeched to stop running, I ignored these warnings and ran even faster. I had no destination - I ran desperately to escape what chased me.

What was I running from? Weakness? Mortality? Fate?

If I knew, I might be able to turn and face it. I heard the roar of a lion, but instead of confronting it, I ran even faster than before. Without warning, a curved talon struck me from behind. It had a razor sharp end that stuck out of my chest so I could see it clearly. I felt nothing as the world faded to nothingness.

Ringing, obnoxious noise brought me to consciousness. The light blinded me as I slammed my fist to press a button nearby. Instead of silencing the abysmal racket, I knocked the source of the problem from the nightstand to the floor. Way to go.

Click.

Suddenly, the ringing disappeared. Did it land on the button? Well, that’s fine and all, but my blankets were missing. I couldn’t see too well, either. But above all, there was something that bothered me. Why did my hands feel sticky and wet?

“Holy shit!”

I jumped to my feet as soon as I noticed what was going on. Surrounded by bright, pink walls of blubbery flesh, I could only be hallucinating. Someone must have slipped something into that Big Mac I ate last night, but then again I might just be going crazy. It all felt so real though - I dared not move, in case I upset whatever was happening right now. As a clear, mucus-like liquid dripped like molasses from the rippled ceiling, I reached out to collect some in my hand.

“Ouch!”

Contrary to my expectations, the liquid burned me and my skin was sizzling, though it didn’t peel off. Was it some kind of acidic poison? Great, just great. I took a step forward, but instead of my foot landing normally, it sunk right into the pink mush.

Thud.

I opened my eyes again. There were no pink walls of flesh, just plain and boring white-painted drywall. I was in my apartment. Well, it wouldn’t be the first crazy dream I had, but for some reason I was in a cold sweat this time. Also, why did I have two dreams that I remember in just one night? I don’t even normally remember the one right before I wake up. So, how did I manage to pull it off?

Same old, same old. The day passed fairly uneventfully. In the morning, I took a shower, shaved, ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant, and finally gathered together my backpack contents and left to catch the buses to work. Taking three buses to get to work every morning was no joke, so I always ended up leaving far earlier than one should and the trip normally took about 2.5-3 hours, depending on how the different transit systems lined up.

By the time I arrived at work around 8:35 in the morning, my boss was already stressed out. As usual, we had received few calls, and we were overstaffed - letting people go who slacked off was an option, but my boss was too kindhearted to consider it. There were people who literally sat in the break room all day… Looking at you, Matt. Regardless, we could use a few less employees so that the hardworking ones, myself included, get more hours.

After work, I did my usual routine of cleaning up the office. I didn’t need to, as it wasn’t in my job description, but I appreciate how hard the janitor works so I try to make his job easier where I can. Besides, people mostly slack off in this office anyway - not that I tell them to do otherwise, since I’m no one’s supervisor or manager. I’d rather not get into problems with my coworkers, either. After I finish the routine, I catch a bus around 4:30 in the afternoon. It’s supposed to be at the stop by 4:25 but I rarely see it less than ten minutes late.

After three buses to return home, I usually get to my house at around seven. The day was just like any other… or was it? There was a bald man in a black suit with sunglasses standing menacingly outside my front door - I dared not enter the stairway, and ducked out of sight as soon as I saw him. I heard footsteps coming down the stairway… should I run? There are cameras in the front of the complex… oh wait, those weren’t working yet.

As he approached I noticed something else odd - there was a black rifle or shotgun of some kind strapped to his left leg - it stood out so much I’m not sure how I missed it at first glance. By showing me this, he was basically telling me that if I ran he’d shoot me in the back… right? Regardless, I was sweating. Though, it wasn’t a cold sweat this time - it was warranted, considering it was 107 degrees outside today. He crossed his arms and faced me silently - was he waiting for me to say something?

“Um… can I help you?”

The man shook his head, turning to walk away. I let out a sigh of relief, but perhaps I did so too soon because as soon as I did he turned to face me again, this time pointing a gun at me. I froze up. My legs refused to cooperate for some reason - why wouldn’t they let me move? Why was I locked in place, as if someone cast a damn curse on me? I needed to get the hell out of here.

Run, dammit, he’s going to shoot you.

What did I do to deserve this treatment? I mean, I’ve tried my best to not piss anyone off in life, and worked my shitty job while keeping silent about my grievances. The only place that I’ve even vented about my life was… the internet. Oh. This guy must be one of those psychopaths. It’s not unheard of for people on the internet who are looking to be serial killers to pick their targets based on information they obtain on the internet - the fact that I live alone in an unsecured complex, especially that I live in a bad neighborhood filled with drug addicts and prostitutes, probably added to my potential as a prime target for random serial killings.

Well, I guess this is it.

As these thoughts ran through my brain, I realized he had been standing there, pointing his gun at me for a very long time… his finger was firmly on the trigger, but he wasn’t moving. In fact, even his muscles stopped twitching with his tight grip. Not just that, but the area was eerily quiet - it was as though he planned this encounter with such care that no one would be around… but wait! As I gazed in the distance, there was construction equipment beyond the chain-link fence at the edge of the parking lot.

There were several workers, but none of them were moving at all. Even the guy pouring out a bag of concrete - wait, not even the concrete was moving… what the hell was happening? If I was aware all this was happening, then was the man who stared me down at gunpoint also feeling this? It felt as though the entire world came to a standstill… But why? After having two terrifying dreams that I remember quite vividly, and coming into contact with a literal hitman, I’m pretty much open to anything at this point… but it would be nice if I could move again.

Just as I was thinking this, my muscles relaxed - I was free of whatever force held me. However, it appeared that the world was still standing still. That entire time… did I even blink? I walked over to the bald man and removed his sunglasses - brown eyes, a very common eye color. I looked him in the eyes, but his gaze did not adjust or move even slightly. I pointed at the freeway, which was just over the fence on the opposite side of the parking lot, and directly in his field of vision, but his eyes did not move then, either. He was certainly unable to see things the way I did.

However, just as I was discovering this, everything started moving again, and I felt nauseous. The man turned to face me once more, but this time he pulled the trigger immediately. Well, that’s it. I’m dead for sure, now… but why wasn’t I in pain? I opened my eyes, realizing I must have closed them reflexively. The bullet had just exited the gun, and the small flash created by the internal explosion of gunpowder could still be seen at the muzzle. I moved out of the way, not standing in the path of the bullet…

Being the second time that this happened, I silently pondered why I wasn’t also frozen this time. Last time, it took quite a while before I was able to move. However, I should probably get away for now - whatever this was, it would probably end soon. I began running away - the nearest store that had security systems was around the corner, but the power box was easy enough to access that it wasn’t safe. I’d have to run about two blocks to get to Fred Meyer, where I’d surely be much safer. It’s doubtful he’d try to kill me in a story with protected power that had backup generators and cameras all over the store...

As I turned the corner, I noticed people were still frozen. This was odd - it definitely didn’t stay this way this long last time… but how long did it even last the previous time? I didn’t really have a sense of time right now, either way. As I thought this, I pulled out my phone. I pressed the power button, but nothing happened. The screen didn’t light up to reveal the unlock screen like normal. I tried holding the power button, just in case it was off. Nothing. Well, might as well go to Fred Meyer…

But wait! If I entered the store at this point, would the cameras even film me? With all these thoughts in my head, I decided not to go to Fred Meyer. I decided to stand outside the general store on the corner by my apartments instead, waiting for things to start moving again. I was watching a man who was clearly in the process of drinking Lipton green tea out of a 20oz plastic bottle. If things started moving, he’d soon remove the bottle from his mouth. Quite some time passed, but nothing changed.

“The hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, perhaps you can tell me?”

I gasped and turned to face the voice that just retorted my dialogue. A young woman with pure white hair, white irises and skins so pale it was nearly translucent stood across from me. She wore a long, white one-piece dress with short sleeves and thin straps that held it up over her shoulders. It showed no cleavage, but she had little to show in the first place - she had a very modest chest. She was also fairly short - no more than four and a half feet. She was about 140 centimeters tall - but why was I converting her height to metric?

I guess it wasn’t a bad habit in particular since most of the world, America aside, used it fairly exclusively. But, why the hell was I thinking these pointless thoughts when such a rare beauty stood near me? Moreover, why was she able to move and talk when no one else was? But, then again why was I any different? Was it something I did, or was it something she did? Did she have ill intent by meeting me here, or was she here to help? Was she also just as confused as I was? I wanted to ask these questions, but a far more pressing matter came to mind...

“You’re naked.”

She laughed sarcastically as I commented on this, as if she’d heard the remark hundreds of times and it didn’t surprise her in the least. Yet, I knew for sure that she did not, otherwise why would she be surprised about the current situation as a whole? She crossed her arms - she had surely noticed where my line of sight was directed by now. I was tempted to look lower as well, but it would be better to avoid making an enemy out of the one person who can move right now. She wore a smug grin, as if she’d won a small victory in watching my reactions or something… was this a game to her?

“You need not agonize over that fact. It occurs each time I cleanse myself of sin.”

“Cleanse yourself of sin?”

“An expression you may learn at a later time, should you manage to survive.”

If I manage to survive? Okay, so this was definitely not a game anymore. Her expression turned serious and she glared at me as if I’d wronged her. I took a few steps back - there is no need to take unnecessary risks with this dicey situation and this unpredictable woman. She suddenly ducked charged me - she leapt at me and took a swipe with her bare hands… why doesn’t she just pick up a rock? Or even a stick? Wouldn’t just about anything be more effective than unarmed combat?

As I was thinking this, I ran away for a bit and tried to pick up a can off the parking lot’s asphalt, but it wouldn’t budge. Well, that made sense… The bullet stopped motionlessly outside that hitman’s gun earlier, so why would a can be moveable? It made sense, even though this entire situation was batshit insane. Why the hell was I being attacked by an albino lunatic woman? Why did she even have motive to attack me? Was it related to this strange frozen state the rest of the world was in?

I must have pondered for too long because the woman leapt at me from behind and dug her claws into my chest - I could also vaguely feel her nipples press against my back, but more pressing were the incredible pains of my skin being flayed. This was obviously a strategy to distract me from her true intention, if only momentarily - I would be killed by her if I didn’t fight back. I dived forward, dragging her over my shoulder and dropping her on the asphalt of the road. However, she landed fairly gracefully on her hands and feet.

She jumping back to a standing posture without receiving harm, however I gave her no time to dodge - as she rose I punched her square in the jaw. She rubbed her chin a bit, but was unfazed overall - was she even human? Well, then again, considering how weak I was… if someone even had average strength they could probably kick my ass without trouble. Hell, a 10 year old even beat me at arm wrestling recently… Damn, I was really weak. My punches probably felt like mosquito bites… speaking of which, her modest chest was in full view.

She capitalized on my momentary distraction by leaping at me again - this time she managed to land a finger under my eye, slicing my skin and causing it to bleed profusely. I tried to dodge her attack, but I was definitely much slower than her. It was a mystery why she even allowed me to outrun her for a short distance when I attempted to pick up that can earlier. Then again, with this much of a difference in speed, strength and stamina, why wasn’t I dead yet? The conclusion I came up with was that my martial arts must have given me enough of an edge to survive, barely.

Well, I could afford no more mistakes. I was losing too much blood, and my vision was getting pretty blurry. I was also panting heavily. My muscles felt sluggish. I was running out of time. I decided to run across the street with all my remaining stamina - anywhere was better than here. As I made it to the other sidewalk, she was close behind me. I fell to my knees and I felt a pain in my chest - this time, it felt life my heart was ready to explode. It was beating faster and faster, but it suddenly stopped for a moment - skipped a beat, if you will.

Suddenly, it was beating perfectly normally, and the man across the street spewed out his tea obnoxiously. The naked albino woman had startled him, and as soon as she noticed that the world was no longer frozen she darted into the nearby alley. I fell to the left and landed shoulder-first on the concrete sidewalk, my consciousness following suit and falling away as I hit the ground.