About a week had passed, and things were quite peaceful. Freddy didn't mind, at least not yet. Ever since he got married, it took him a lot longer to get antsy and want to leave. His wife generally kept him company. Freddy was napping on a sofa he found in his travels, so was quite surprised when someone knocked on the door. He suddenly awoke, said "I'll get it!", and he walked up and opened the door.
"Hello?" he said.
"Yes, I'm looking for someone known as....hold on a second..," said the stranger.
The stranger was a man with some stubble wearing a khaki colored trench coat, and right now he fumbled around in the pockets, seemingly looking for something. He pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper
"Aha! As I said, I'm looking for someone named...Freddy?"
"Speaking," He replied in a flat, bored tone.
"Ah. Yes. This is...awkward. So...um...as I was saying, I need your help. I've heard tell that a crowd of Bandits have been stalking and attacking traveling merchants, such as myself. I would like to ask you to escort me to my destination, and I will bring you back and be on my way. I'll get new protection when we get to the trade area. I gotta swing back by here anyway, someone wants me to get some more lumber and I gotta deliver to 'em."
"Oooh, you're that..." Freddy trailed off, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember the man's name.
"Logan guy right? The traveling merchant who brings us supplies and keeps our location a secret?" Freddy said, finally remembering the man's name.
"The one and only," replied Logan.
"Okay. I'll help you. It's the least I could do, considering all you've done for my tribe," said Freddy.
"Thank you, I'm ready to leave when you are. Which I hope is soon, because some of the food doesn't take that long to spoil. I'll be waiting at the front of the village, at the head of the caravan."
And with that, Logan left.
Freddy went back inside, put his best pair of gloves on a table he had fashioned, and said to his wife, "Sweetie I need to go out for a bit to help out the traveling merchant. I should be back in a few days."
"Bye, love you," replied his wife.
"Love you too," said Freddy, planting a kiss on his wife's cheek.
Freddy then exited his house, having to duck under the doorframe, and went to join Logan in his caravan.
"Okay, let's go," said Logan.
"Well then hurry up and get on with it," Freddy said slightly angrily, as he was somewhat irritated by the fact he had to leave so soon.
"Geez, somebody's grouchy," said Logan touchily. He then urged his horses forward and the adventure began.
Now we pick up our story at about nighttime of the same day they left. Freddy got bored watching their surroundings since they had entered The Blanklands, a barren wasteland devoid of any features or landmarks, and has harsh windstorms. Think of it like this: The Blanklands are as windy as a tornado and as boring as Math class. Anyway, Freddy decided to strike up a conversation with Logan, who was driving the horse-drawn carriage.
"I'm surprised people actually live in this wasteland," Freddy told Logan.
"People don't actually live in The Blanklands, they just live near it. Although I've heard tell that there's a village in it, and that they're trying to branch out. I'm guessing they either didn't look far enough, or they're just too lazy. I'd say the former one. If they do even exist. The Blanklands do actually reach out pretty far. You know, it still surprises me to this day that North Carolina got hit this hard. I'd guess this is where some of the shot-down missiles hit," said Logan.
"Yeah. You're probably right. Anyhows, where are we going?" Freddy asked Logan.
"We're going to somewhere around Northern South Carolina. We're gonna pass through this stretch of Blanklands and then follow a path until we reach our destination," answered Logan.
"Sounds reasonable. So, where did you hear the rumour about bandits stalking the trails?"
"One of my lackeys here heard about it at the stop before your village. He decided to not tell me, however, until we got to your village. I whacked him over the head for not telling me earlier. So I started asking around your village, looking for someone to act as a guard. Most of them recommended you for the job, however, I had no clue where you lived, and I didn't see you walking around, so I knocked on about three other houses before yours, and they all kindly pointed me in the right direction. And that's why I needed you specifically," answered Logan.
"Seems reasonable."
"You don't talk much, do you? All of your questions or replies have been relatively short. And I remember you were quite the grouch when we left."
"No, I don't normally talk that much. And I was just irritated that I had to leave so soon, but I'm not anymore. At least not as much."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"Whose replies are short now?"
"Yours still."
"Fuck you," Freddy said jokingly. Okay, half jokingly.
They laughed a bit, and Logan talked to Freddy about merchants, trade routes, and how he got the supplies they needed/wanted. In return, Freddy decided to give him tips on how to deal with certain troublesome creatures he was likely to run into.
About five minutes after they stopped talking, they were stopped by a group of people wielding clubs and swords that were demanding their supplies.
"I think that's them," Logan said to Freddy out of the corner of his mouth.
"I can see that," replied Freddy sarcastically. He then leaped out the carriage, did a flip, and landed on the ground, drawing himself to full height."Now, now, boys, I heard some rumours that you were causing trouble to these nice merchants. And that's a bad thing. And I don't like it when people do bad things. Now I'm going to give you the chance to throw down your weapons, give up, and walk away," And as he finished, with a bit of flair, he extended his fingers, making sure they could see how sharp they were.
Some of the bandits cowered in fear, as they were not accustomed to people who fought back, and they had not realized the caravan had a guard, as they could not see any sign of someone guarding the caravan. About seven bandits left, still carrying their weapons. Freddy shrugged philosophically. To go out into the wasteland unarmed was suicide.
Four bandits were still there, apparently not scared of the tall, slender figure that stood before them. Freddy grinned to himself. I bet they would've also fled if they knew who I was Freddy thought. It was four to one against Freddy, so naturally the bandits were severely outnumbered.
"Fine then! Run away you cowards! Look at this guy, we still have him outnumbered four to one, and he looks as if I could snap him like a twig!" yelled what Freddy assumed would be the captain of the group of bandits.
"A lot of people said that to me. That's what I carved on their graves," replied Freddy.
The bandit leader glared at him. This man looked relatively weak, and at first glance, it seems he really could snap him like a twig. But there was something else about this man. He emanated a quiet aura of menace and strength, almost as if it was daring him to try to beat him. The bandit captain decided he didn't like the look of this guy. Normal people didn't leap directly in front of a group of 11 armed bandits and tell them to surrender. But this man came up and threatened him and his men. This could not go unpunished.
"CHAAAARGE!" suddenly yelled the bandit captain, running toward the tall, slender figure who towered over him, the other two men following his lead.
Showtime, thought Freddy, as his grin grew even wider. He stood there, waiting for the bandits to get closer to him. No point in rushing over to meet them. Better to just stand there and let them come to him.
One of the captain's lackeys ran faster than the rest, reaching Freddy first. The bandit wildly swung at Freddy with his sword, but Freddy just stepped to the side, holding out his arm while dodging the sword. The bandit's momentum carried him forward, impaling him on Freddy's fingers. He looked down blankly, realizing he had been killed. The bandit dropped his weapon as he took his last breath, still impaled on Freddy's fingers. Freddy took one quick look at the bandit's dead body, and flung the dead bandit toward the other one. The dead bandit flew at the closest one, knocking the breath out of him and he was knocked to the ground.
Two other bandits were still left, and as they saw their compadre get killed and flung at their captain, they hesitated. Freddy however, seeing they had stopped, started to run towards them. Freddy reached them almost instantly, giving them no time to react. Freddy swiped at one of the bandits, but the bandit tried to leap back, making Freddy only cut his hand off. The bandit dropped his weapon (because that was the hand that was holding the club) and howled in pain. Freddy turned toward the other bandit, a manic gleam in his eyes, with that maniacal grin still wide on his face. The whites of Freddy's eyes flooded a deep crimson, leaving only that and a black dot. The bandit cowered in fear, giving a half-hearted swing towards Freddy with his club. Freddy swiped at it, cutting the cub into several pieces.
Freddy howled with maniacal laughter, slashing the bandit across the side, opening up four large gashes. The bandit fell over and curled up, clutching his sides with pain. Freddy crouched and plunged his pointer finger into the bandit's temple, killing him almost instantly. Freddy turned toward the other bandit, holding his stump of an arm at his side while he held his sword with his left hand, it swaying uncertainly.
He took a wild, inaccurate swing at Freddy, completely missing him, and his sword stuck into the dirt. Freddy swiped at the bandit's arm, cutting his other hand off. The bandit howled with pain yet again, looking at the two stumps that used to be his hands. In one fluid motion, Freddy spun, crouched, and swiped his arm at the bandit in one fluid, sweeping motion, cutting one of the bandit's feet off. His raw flesh now touching a hot, sunbaked wasteland rock, he let out his loudest howl yet, falling over onto the ground. Freddy took the sword stuck in the sand (which still had the bandit's hand holding it), and plunged it into the bandit's back.
Freddy spun around, seeing the bandit captain still struggling free himself from the weight of his dead follower on top of him. He walked over to him, crouching down, and watched him struggle. The bandit captain, now that he saw this frightening, death-dealing figure that was now standing over him, redoubled his efforts. Freddy grabbed the bandit captain by the head, lifting him up and standing up at the same time, holding the bandit captain above the ground.The bandit captain grabbed his arm, trying to force it away, but he held him with a painful iron grip.
"Who....are you?" spluttered the bandit captain, struggling to get the words out, as the pain was immense, and blood started to drip from where Freddy was holding him.
"I'm your WORST NIGHTMARE!" he cackled maniacally, and he took his middle finger and stabbed the bandit captain under the chin. The bandit captain went limp, now dead. Freddy took out his finger and dropped him, Freddy breathing heavily.
Freddy took several deep breathes, trying to calm down, and then the whites of his eyes returned to normal. Freddy turned to Logan, seeing he was now looking at him, a look of terror apparent on his face.
"What?" said Freddy questioningly. "Do I have something in my teeth?" he said, flashing a wide, toothy grin.
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