Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 337. Overnight I (by Qveen Herby // Le Monde)

Chapter 337: 337. Overnight I (by Qveen Herby // Le Monde)

"KENNY!" Henry yelled my name again, as if he were aware of what was happening to me, what was going on inside me.

"I can see youuuu~"

She was so close already; soon she would touch Henry, who was still standing in front of me, with his back to me, protecting us as he tried to stop the ceiling from coming down with all his might.

I raised my arms, only able to touch the ceiling if I stood on my tiptoes, but I tried to use my strength to stop what was about to happen.

The girl behind me had her nails burrowed in my back, her agitation rising with every slow movement the Slenderwoman took toward us, although the kid shouldn’t be able to see the monster, with me and Henry in front of her.

"I can seeee—"

The woman stopped in mid-sentence and movement and suddenly started screaming with the voice of a child.

I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was the child that somehow ’spoke’ through the monster, possibly also the one stopping her from continuing on her path.

However, the monster only had to raise one of her long arms if she wanted to touch us because then she would be able to reach across what was left of the room, and it would still not be enough space for her to stretch out.

A hunched back, the black hair that covered her face like a veil, and those long legs that allowed her to look down on us from the end of the ceiling that was already so low.

"YOU GOT THE CEILING?" Henry asked loudly.

"I GOT IT!" I answered automatically, trying to come up with something other than ’think positively’ and ’display goodwill for the monster’ because it should be too late for that.

I tried to come out of the daze, the shock, the terror, and the fear and any kind of thoughts about the future because it was time to take more drastic measures to survive the present.

There was only one possibility left; it was time to get the giant’s powers back.

That was what I thought when Henry let go and lunged at the monster.

Without his help, the ceiling came down a good part, as if to make up for the time that it had been stopped.

The woman screamed, again with the voice of the kid, and not only had Henry tackled her against the wall, but they both nearly fell on Henrietta, who was swept closer to us each inch that the room turned smaller.

The Slenderwoman was attacked by Henry, who, contrary to my behavior inside the coffin, didn’t display any fear or hesitation, as he punched the woman’s face repeatedly, grabbing her throat only to punch some more.

"THE COLLAR!" I yelled while holding against fiend number two.

It was nearly impossible for me to stop the movement of the ceiling—just how strong is this monster?

Henry understood and implemented what I had said, getting himself shocked while choking the Slenderwoman. At the same time, electricity was transmitted to Henrietta in the corner of the moving wall as Henry fought the monster more or less on top of her; one of the two should touch her right now because she was trembling as much as the other two did.

Another scream, in the voice of a child, just that it didn’t come from the Slenderwoman.

It came from outside.

I had only time to look at the window for a second before something crashed into it.

Not only the window but also the whole wall.

Not only the wall but also the whole skyscraper we were in.

At least, that was the last thing I thought was happening, the last thing I perceived before I was out cold. That, and I felt the regret over having hesitated.

I should have gotten the giant’s power back sooner; staying sane was not as important as being alive.

Or was it?

***************

I stood somewhere, and it was dark.

I knew I wasn’t where I should be; I knew, and I tried to go back instantly.

It didn’t work.

"Awake?" A lazy voice spoke, addressing me.

It was a voice I knew so well, although it sounded different than when I heard myself speak out of my own mouth.

Like when you hear yourself speak in a recording and nearly die from the cringe.

Because your voice suddenly turned so foreign.

"Mhm." I couldn’t see in the dark.

When I reached for the collar, I found that I wasn’t wearing it.

Last time in the football stadium, it was bright, too bright, and it was unknown if I was wearing the collar back then already, so I was confirming now that this was something like a subspace.

I wasn’t here for real; I hadn’t been teleported to this place or something.

And there was no space inside my mind, no table, no coin.

I was even more powerless than with my collar.

"Why aren’t you freaking out? You are a newcomer, aren’t you?"

Now I was only a human, not even having my space, which I had since I could think.

I turned to my side and saw red eyes leering at me from a few meters away. Half-lidded, bored, and somehow searching for entertainment.

I knew it wasn’t possible for the Maestro to be the one who spoke to me because there was no immense pressure forcing me to my knees, but seeing the red and not black eye color confirmed it.

"How can I get out of here?"

"Out of the cell?" The guy suddenly lunged at me, at something that turned out to be prison bars.

He gripped them and stared at me with a laugh that I could see from the light his eyes emitted.

"No, out of this subspace," I explained.

"Subspace... subspace! I like how that sounds!"

"..." I should have given up on communicating with my counterparts long ago.

I slapped my face hard, trying to wake up, hearing the guy break into amused laughter.

It didn’t work, but I was able to feel pain, just like the first time being in the football subspace.

Being inside a cell again, I heard footsteps coming from the corridor—this whole scene was so familiar from the times I had been locked up that it was more a crying than a laughing matter.

I needed to go back.

If I can only come back after going through whatever activity, then hurry the fuck up!

The light was turned on.

The person coming had red eyes and a crew cut, and I was already sick of this face—my face—even though he was opening my cell for me.

The cell across from mine had the guy from before in it. He had violet hair, one side longer, the other shorter. The side of his face with the longer hair was badly burnt, and he stared at me as if he were waiting for a reaction, his excitement rising.

I ignored him and looked at the person who came for me; I wasn’t handcuffed now, nor had I been waking up, so there was no uncuffing or stuff.

I walked to the open door after the guard motioned me to, and he roughly grabbed my arm to drag me down the corridor, the violet-haired guy staring at me as long as he could from behind his bars.

The corridor was full of red-orange rust—the walls, the prison bars, and the beds in the cells. Everything here looked as if you could snap it in half with ease.

We passed other cells, and I could feel red eyes on me, left and right; they were locked up for whatever purpose, waiting, relishing the fact that I was out.

At least that was what I felt, and it told me that where I was going wouldn’t be fun.

"You have to win, or you will die in real life." The guard mumbled under his breath as if he were trying to warn me.

"What is this all about?" I asked just as silently.

"A game? A selection? To thin out the flock? We don’t know either." He answered, not looking at me, always straight ahead, when the corridor ended and we stood in front of a big rusty door.

He opened the door, and I could instantly hear a crowd—a big one—which cursed and screamed, jeered and booed.

It was a dimly lit, nearly dark room, smelling disgustingly of sweat and blood.

The guard fought his way through the crowd, dragging me behind him, and every time I looked into one of the faces around me, I saw features that were so much like mine, again and again, as if I was going through a mirror cabinet, each of the mirrors showing a more distorted version of me than the last.

The crowd ignored me, busy with itself, until I arrived in the middle of it.

Then some murmured, asking who I was, if I was a newbie, and if I would die today.

I chuckled.

Why am I here?

A spotlight was turned on above me, the light shining down at the empty circle that was outlined by the audience, who stood there as if they were serving as a fence.

The circle was about two meters wide, and although there were so many people here, nobody stepped inside, conscious as to not pass the line.

The guard bent down and picked up something from the floor before stepping in front of me and taking my hand.

He started to tape my hand.

So some sort of third-rate boxing? First football and now boxing—is this something I was confronted with because I had steered into a slightly bent path back at home?

I laughed harder, but it wasn’t funny.

How was Henry? What had attacked the building? How was Henry? Was it the Bone Dragon?

What was I doing here without knowing how he was?

WHY ARE THEY WASTING MY FUCKING TIME?

My other hand was taped, and someone entered the circle from the opposite side.

It was another red-eyed Kenny; he was shirtless, had hair that was styled back, and wore red boxing shorts, showing off his figure.

Hmm, so I can really buff up if I wanted to?

"THE ONLY RULE IS THE FOLLOWING: WHOEVER STEPS OUT OF THIS CIRCLE ALIVE WILL WIN!"

Can I become this hulk-like? I hadn’t thought my body would be able to build that many muscles, but maybe that guy was just on steroids.

There were no more introductions or anything, only the two of us on opposite sides of the enlightened circle and the massive red-eyed audience surrounding us.

"FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE..." The guard counted down while stepping back; the Hulk in front of me jumped on the spot a few times to warm himself up.

"Haaaah." I let out a deep breath.

Well, I didn’t need that many muscles to go crazy or any drug to get aggressive because I was done with bullshitting.

"GO!"

I turned around on the spot, away from the Hulk, and swung my fist at the nearest audience member, smashing his face.