Single post in The Little One -- [COMPLETED]

Shaky breaths escaped his chilled lips, exhaling wisps of quickly dissipating vapor into the precipitation. His cranium pounding an unfamiliar yet loud beat, he coughed hard and realized a slight numbness has seeped into his left cheek. Pushing his eyelids apart by sheer will, he groaned upon his blurry vision adding no substance to the murky world of colors his eyes attempted to behold. As the pounding began to subside, it became steadily replaced by motorized vehicles whizzing past and the familiar splatter of countless drops against the pavement. Pavement? He could only hope he wasn’t lying in the middle of a busy highway. His stiff fingers slid across the non-giving, slick surface beneath his body. No wonder the side of his face felt numb. How long had he been outside in the downpour? Wiping the rain from his eyes, he finally heard heavy rumbles from above. It may have been smart to get out of the weather. Bracing himself against the concrete, he pushed up. It took less effort than he would have thought to get to his knees, but even that thought was quickly pushed aside when his brain caught up with the strange sight his clearing vision beheld. Apparently, his left hand had been clenching an item while he was out. Encased in a black sheath ornamented with numerous, overlapping circular patterns, a sword rested within. Where had the weapon come from? Why was he holding it? Upon closer examination of the circles, he noticed five dark rectangles near the hand guard that appeared out of place with the rest of the sheath. It reminded him of the solar strip embedded in basic calculators. He rubbed his thumb across their film-like surface, but there was no reaction. His gaze drifted to the hilt which was decorated identically to the sheath, save for a white infinity symbol embedded in its bottom. Curious of the weapon itself, he firmly wrapped his fingers around the hilt and pulled. The blade within caught on something and would not release despite another pair of quick tugs. With a frown, he searched the sheath for a latch or something that would free the sword. Nothing… and after a few more tugs, he eventually gave up. For a moment, he considered tossing the thing aside, but it did look old. Maybe an antique dealer would hand over a hefty sum for it. Realizing his headache was nearly gone, he rose to his feet and rubbed his cheek until feeling began to slink back in. Looking around, he realized that he had been laying on a walkway adjacent a lengthy overpass. Traffic rushed by in both directions, giving the slightest care to him or the rain. But as he stood there, watching the cars and trucks go by, it finally dawned on him. Every vehicle was an older make and model. Had there been a car show nearby? That might have explained why some of the vehicles appeared nearly fresh off the lot. But now that he paid attention to more than just the traffic, he realized the overpass didn’t look familiar at all. He turned around and spotted a bustling city near, filled with towering buildings and heavy traffic skittering in every direction. Where was he anyway? Moments later, he heard a car horn blow loudly. He turned in time to see a beige, two-door Chevrolet Impala pull up to the shoulder. The driver – an older, balding man in a dirty, brown duster – leaned over the passenger seat, rolled down the window and shouted, “You’ll catch yer death in this weather! Get in here!” As much as he didn’t want to remain in the rain, he also didn’t want to upset the old man into an ulcer. He quickly hopped the walkway railing and climbed into the passenger’s side while the old man turned down the radio’s volume. “Thanks,” he told the old man, “and sorry for dripping on your seats.” The old man waved it off and took his foot off the brake. “Pay it no nevermind, son. But what in sam hill were you doing walking this far when it’s raining cats and dogs out? You trying to catch puh-neumonia?”