Young Writers Society

UNDERWORLD EXPRESS

When I at long last got home, I was out of breath.

Mike was sitting on a chair his back at me. He turned his head at me when the door closed, with a bang. I was totally wet because of the sweat, still gripping the sword in my left hand, I angrily looked at the trouble free gnome.

The gnome had some odd drink in his hands that he was sipping through a straw.

“What’s with the cold stare?” He said smiling brightly.

“Y-you, Left me behind,” I continued to stare at him.

He tried to look as innocent as he could. He had a fake surprised expression on his face when said if I wouldn't have ran I could have gotten hit.”

I looked at him sternly. I turned my back at him, I was going to walk to the kitchen when I heard him gasp… or maybe giggle.

“M-mike you have a-a-a…” He burst out into hysterical laughter.

“A what?!” I shouted.

He looked at me for a minute. I thought he might laugh again.

“You have an arrow up your ass.” He sat on the chair giggling.

I looked at him shocked. I tried my butt… And there it was: A short arrow, it hadn't gone too deep.

Why hadn’t I felt it?.. Maybe because all the feeling left my legs on the half way home, but now the pain was rushing back in a blur. "Ow!" I wailed.

“You will help me get it off.” I commanded. The gnome sat up from the chair, and sighed as one would when facing a small child who had done something stupid.

He walked behind me and… “Aargh!” The pain was undeniable. I rolled on the ground.

“Outch… Arghhhhh!!!”

Mike looked at me smiling. He seemed to get some sick entertainment from the situation.

When I got up after rolling around the floor for many minutes, I tried not to bang Mike's head through the wall.

“Why are you smiling" I growled.

“Well you don't see a man with an arrow up his ass everyday now do you,” He said.

If looks could kill... If only looks could kill. I thought to myself.

I sighed, and looked at the sword. At least I got the sword.

“Hey jack!” Mike shouted from the cellar. I wondered how he'd got there that fast.

“Yes!” I shouted back.

The gnomes head popped from the cellar, he scared me half dead.

“Do not do that.” I was huffing on the floor.

The gnome's lips started to curl on the sides again. "Dare to smile, and I'll be serving your head for breakfast," I warned.

He was fighting the upcoming smile, but he was able to keep a fairly steady face His expression “Is it okay if G’jarg, and Nel come here, next week.”

I grimaced, but I still said: “Sure.” Then I thought of something, “Why do you call he G’jarg? Isn’t his name Anu?” I asked in a curious tone.

“G’jarg means “The big hair” it is a great compliment in the troll language and culture.” Mike replied.

"Is that so..." this was when the exhaustion of the last night caught on.

I yawned, "I'm going to bed," I turned around and walked away from Mike before he could answer. I could hear him giggling behind me.

As I walked up the stairs I gripped the sword and looked at it; It had fine white line going on the blade from the tip to the handle, it was made of silver and the handle of brown leather and gold. Silver isn’t really the toughest material. I thought.

While stepping to my bedroom, I swung the sword at my hat hanger… it cut through easily.

WOW. Was the first thing that popped in mind as I examined the pure and very clean cut that the sword had made. Having that sword in my hands was quite reassuring and created an undeniable sense of security.

I went to sleep on my secondhand bed and pulled my sheets on myself. The sword rested just besides me.

I woke up to the smell of pancakes.

I walked down and saw Mike making a big pile of the sweet pancakes that he made every morning.

As I sat on my normal chair in the kitchen Mike told me “good morning.”

I was quite tired and just mumbled something back to him "Gud mrgning," was what I could recall saying.

I ate the pancakes and then left to my daily job at the bank.

I hated the bank. My job was so boring. All I did was deny applications, stamp approval to applications and sighed behind a desk… all day.

I sat behind my brown wooden work desk, gripped the old dusty stamp and started stamping, and denying applications.

Stamp, deny, stamp, deny.

Application for loan: reason for loan: Need to start a company that makes food out of dogs: denied.

Application for loan: Money to buy a house: Stamped.

That was my day in my lonely office room.

When I got home I threw my bag on the ground and sat on my chair in the living room.

Mike walked to me and looked at me for a while. “Jack I think you need a bit of some adventure into your life."

I snorted. "What makes you think like that?" I looked up at him, his´face was lacking the normal smile. "What?" I asked.

"You work to hard. You need an adventure," he stated.

"And where could I get an adventure like that?" i gave him a smile. That's when his grin returned. it looked suspicious, and I didn't like it... Not one bit.

He pulled me off the chair. "Hey wait a min-" he pushed me down into the cellar.

I sprawled to the ground "Oi! Why the hell did you do that?" He walked to the stone wall, and pulled a lever that I had never seen before. The ground under my feet moved away and I fell, again. I remember sliding down some kind of a drain. I hit one of the sides with my head. "Ouch!" I cried out.

[url]Why me?[/url] I asked.

When I got to the end of the tunnel I was full of bruises. “Aw. My head.” I complained.

Mike walked to me from the dark drain without a scratch. He pointed at something before me.

I looked and I saw it. A monstrous train-like machine. It seemed to have horns.

I turned to Mike: “What is it.” I asked

Mike was looking at the machine “The UNDERWORLD EXPRESS.” He answered.