Single post in The Little One -- [COMPLETED]

Even as the young man lifted the glass, his stomach fluttered. He took a whiff but strangely, caught no scent from the concoction. Maybe that meant it wouldn’t taste too bad? To be on the safe side, he thought it would be best to down as much as he could in a single gulp and hope his stomach could handle it. Gathering up his courage, the young man inhaled sharply, closed his eyes, and downed a mouthful. He tried to swallow before his taste buds could kick in, but the damage had been done the instant the lukewarm fluid hit the back of his throat. His tongue felt like it had just been drenched in fire. The flaming trail followed the liquid down his gullet and into his stomach. He wanted to curse Leland for giving him the mix, but the hacking coughs dominated everything his blazing pie-hole could do. He really and randomly hoped no one had told him to avoid drinks from strangers. They would’ve been highly disappointed if they could see him now, writhing and clawing at the fire spreading throughout his chest. An annoying ringing rising in his ears drowned out the bar’s sounds, culminating in a loud beep that accompanied a throb in his head. His hands gripped the bar to keep from doubling over. A minute passed. Then another. The burning just wouldn’t stop. It continued to spread down his arms and into his stomach. He really wanted to shout, but his throat already felt like it was being ripped apart. Shoving off from the bar, he knocked over the stool while stumbling back to the entrance. The pounding in his head drowned out everything else as he pushed through the door and staggered back into the rain. His vision blurred slightly, and the drops splashing his face made things worse. Squinting his eyes shut, he threw his head back and opened wide. Not even the raindrops could deliver the slightest relief to edge of his tongue. How could he have been so stupid?! He slammed his fist down on the metal roof of Willie’s car. The sound of the impact suddenly echoed clearly despite the continuous headache. He opened his eyes. The blurriness worsened. However, it didn’t affect everything. He wiped the streak-filled window and peered inside the car. While the interior had become a haze of white, somehow the weapon—and every pattern on it—could be seen as if his vision was perfect. And that’s when he noticed it. He leaned in closer to make sure. A moment later, he scrambled around to the passenger door and yanked it open. Less concerned with dripping on Willie’s seat this time, he reached into the back and lifted the sealed weapon that now had a second light illuminated on its sheath. “You’re causing this migraine, aren’t you?” his lips managed in a raspy whisper. The young man didn’t expect a response, but he badly wanted one… some kind of answer to the growing weirdness that he started to assume was connected to this weapon. And it remained a weapon—after a tug—that wouldn’t release. Just what was wrong with this thing? How on earth did he hear it beep from inside the bar? More importantly, was it somehow blocking his memories as well? “Give me something!” he pleaded weakly. “Who am I?!” “Hey, kid!” Willie shouted from the bar’s entrance. “’Member anything yet?”