Read The Manticore Ascension: A Short Story in the Arena Mode Universe for Free Online

Zone,” I grumbled, massaging my throbbing temples.
    Snapped out of his daze, Dawson cocked his head like a confused puppy dog, his mop of blond hair flopping to one side. “The Twilight what?”
    This was the second fairly casual reference I’d made to a well know pop–culture icon around Dawson; he didn’t seem to have heard of Sir Galahad, either. “Wait, you don’t know what the Twilight Zone is?”
    He shook his head.
    “All right, I’m going to try something. Stop me when you’ve heard of one of these: Coke, Pepsi, Ghostbusters, The Matrix, Nike, Nintendo, Sony, McDonalds, Lady Gaga – ?” I paused, awaiting a response. “Nothing?”
    His face contorted, brows furrowing as if he were physically pained by the labor of intense thought. “So...is this Lady Gaga part of the Northern Realm?”
    My situation was finally – somewhat – beginning to make sense. “Ha! This is a different reality,” I shouted, louder than I’d intended. “A completely different timeline. When I got electrocuted in 2041 I was thrown forward in time, but also into some parallel universe. That’s why things are sort of the same, but sort of different. That makes sense...right?”
    “I guess?” Dawson replied casually. “I mean, anything is possible, I suppose.” He didn’t seem overly skeptical. I assumed growing up in a world where superhumans are commonplace would have that effect. “So how are you going to get back?” he asked.
    His question froze my train of thought, and a sensation of numbness overtook me. “I...I have no idea,” I mumbled. And I didn’t. I had no freaking idea how I was going to return to my home in 2041 and set things right, but I couldn’t stay here – not in this nightmare.
    Deep in thought, I noticed a pinch at the base of my neck; it felt like a bee sting and instantly began to swell.
    “What the –” I clapped my hand over the wound and turned to find Dawson’s brother, Drake, who had snuck into the darkened room undetected. Whatever he’d pierced me with began as an annoyance and quickly started to burn. “Jerk!” I shouted, shoving his shoulder. “What the fudge was that all abbboooooou ...”
    My words turned to pudding on my swollen tongue and my vision blurred into fractals. I collapsed into his arms as the darkness swallowed me.
     

Chapter Six
    Being held prisoner in a medieval dungeon isn’t as bad as it sounds. Sure, a dank, torch–lit cell that smells like a combination of mold and human despair is depressing at first, but once you get settled in it’s pretty cushy. After a quick look around I realized that my current confines were actually bigger than my entire New York City apartment, and had about the same amount of furnishing; an oak table, hand carved chairs...hell, the cot in the corner of my cell was actually more comfortable than my bed at home. The worst part of being held captive was the anticipation; not knowing if, or when, I was getting out...and not knowing what King Lehmann had planned for me next.
    “Guard,” I shouted, snapping my fingers to draw his attention. “Hello, anybody home?”
    A pair of stoic prison guards stood at attention, backs pressed against the stone wall on either side of a staircase – the lone exit from the dungeon. Each well–armored guard remained perfectly still, like a pair of ash white statues, each brandished a long metallic device that resembled a cattle prod. I’m sure they’d been informed of my weakness by Drake, who had no trouble detaining me with his electrical sword after I’d arrived. Not that they’d need to use electricity to subdue me at that point, anyway...my lovely new thumb ring was keeping me corporeal, rendering me unable to phase through objects. Stun batons were probably overkill.
    I ran the toe of my steel boot back and forth across the bars, hoping to annoy one of my captors into blinking. “Either of you guys in charge of dinner? It’s been half a day and I’m starving over here.” I