Chapter 17: 17. Battered.

Everything have a first.

Our first day at a new school or work. Our first date, our first time cooking etc. Sometimes they held the best memories, but most of the times it's the opposite case.

Although definitely when she was young Que is sure she had been sick, she just couldn't remember. But ever since she was old enough she'd never been sick. Perhaps few cuts and bruises, headaches and some stomach cramps, especially when she her great aunt decided to visit, but it was nothing serious. So she was not use to it, or even could tell how it feels.

That was why when she first felt uncomfortable the night she first came to this abandoned old house in the middle of no where, the night their home was attack but she brushed it off as just body ache. She never knew what started as body neusea would spiral into this.

Probably triggered by her fall from the stairs of the hidden path and then the punches she'd threw at the punch bag.

Cradling her bloodied hand to her chest, Que shivered as cold sweat drenched her back curled up on the bunked bed. She was cold and there was no blanket, her flimsy shirt was drenched.

If her resolve to learn karate was just mere fascination, she would've long abandoned it after this. Her muscles were sore and stiff. Had she not felt the effect of being defenseless first hand she might have truly abandoned it. And if she truly wanted to learn, she should get use to this, it was nothing compared to what's to come.

She had no idea how long she'd been laying down here, going in and out of consciousness. She heard movements when the occupants of the room retired for the night and after sometimes they left and it was silent again. Probaby night came and passed, morning too. She was weak and hurting all over, her body shivering and she had no idea how to describe this feeling or even what to do in times like this.

If this is what it means to get sick she prays she never experience it again. What happened to her curse? Why isn't it helping her? Perhaps it's the only advantage it has given her, but even that is gone now. She tried to think of what went wrong but that too proved to be hard task so she just laid there hoping the fever would go down so she could get up.

Alas, even after much time have passed it was still the same. Only getting worse. Her stomach was making gurgling noises that she couldn't hold back anymore. She got up from bed along with her cat and silently moved out of the room supporting herself on the wall. Bubu had been laying beside all the time rubbing its fur on her leg, refusing to leave her side.

She thanked god she had washed after her punching spree and wrapped up her bloodied knuckles.

She have no idea what would happen if she hadn't, Lord knows she cannot take a shower right now. Standing up right itself is a hard chore.

With the support of the wall, she followed the cat as they leave the room.

"Bubu, are you sure you know the way to the kitchen?" She said breathily.

"Meow,"

"Okay, don't get us lost. I'm afraid I'll die and no one can find my corpse in this maze of tunnels if we ever get lost."

The passage stretched out to forever to the point that she starts regretting ever leaving the room in the first place. They've come across many rooms along the way but none of it looked like a kitchen.

When she felt as if her legs would give out, she perceived the aroma of cooking. Her stomach gurgled even louder and she found a renewed courage to walk faster.

She felt and looked like a zoombie which smelled human blood, beelining straight to it.

Arriving at what looked like a cafeteria, disappointment washed over her. She is tired and hungry and would pass out any moment, she certainly can't afford this.

This is nothing but a mass of people lined up in an unending queue waiting to be served. Even her stomach sensed it wouldn't get food anytime soon and had quietened down. She found a corner and slid down the wall, burying her head in her knees.

Is this how her life would be had she been homeless? Had Zeus not offered her the contract, is this how she would be struggling to survive? Her heart swelled up with a sore feeling halfway between guilt and regret.

Do not bite the fingers that feed you. Although she didn't offend him, she could've treated him slightly better.

Lost in her thoughts, a delicious aroma wafted to her nose as a plate was dropped by her legs and a person sat beside her.

"Eat," The voice said.

"You look like you are back from the death, actually, you look like you are on a visit from the other side and would go back anytime." He chuckled.

Que raised her head slowly and took in the guy that had joined her. He was munching on a grilled corn drizzled with butter and spices, and a bowl to her feet was steaming with warm potato and chicken breast soup. It looked very appetizing.

"I figured out you'd prefer something liquid, you are looking sickly."

"Umm..thank you, I appreciate." She croaked her throat feeling dry. He nodded and returned back to eating his corn. Picking up the soup bowl, she picked out few chicken parts and drop them in front of her cat and ate the rest in silence.

Although she lost interest halfway through, she manged to wipe the bowl clean. She didn't know when next she'll get to eat.

"You should take medicines and get your cuts treated, they'll get infected." He advised her when they were done.

"I should....I couldn't find the infirmary from here."

"It's two tunnels left, one right, left again and you'll be there." He smiled, his brown shaggy hair covering his eyes. He looked young and a bit carefree, not more than 20.

Que nodded and smiled in return.

"Thank you for helping me. I'm Que, hope we meet again."

"Trust me, we would." He winked at her.

"I'm Chris."

"Thank you Chris," She whispered again and got up.

Pills, she need to get some pills for her fever and and a bit of alcohol to treat her wound. They are in the middle of an attack, she need to stay healthy if she want to live. At this rate she couldn't even run if the needs arises, how could she protect herself?

Not a burden..

She repeat her mantra as she headed towards the direction Chris had given her. With her stomach warm, it wasn't hard for her to find her way around. Even the neusea and cold died down a little. She arrived at the infirmary and luckily there weren't many people around. Only the unconscious patient remains and most of the bloody gore has been cleaned up.

Just how long had she been asleep?

She asked an older lady in a white attire for medication but only gave her two pills of painkillers, she was denied the alcohol to disinfect her wound. The little that remains was kept for those with a much deadly injuries not bruises, the lady had said.

Swallowing down the pills, Que thanked her and left, it was better than nothing, the cuts and sores did pose a greater risk as the fever burning her up.

She was already feeling better, she only hope this to end as soon as possible. On their way back to the sleeping quarters, bubblegum dashed to an empty corridor meowing madly.

"Bubblegum, come back here! You are not allowed to wander about."

She yelled chasing after it. Damned cat, she didn't have the energy to play hide and seek right now.

"Bubblegum?" She called when the cat was nowhere in sight.

"You come back here now or you wouldn't get breakfast tomorrow." She chided. Que badly wanted to turn back and leave but the thought of something happening to the cat kept her going.

The tunnel got eery the farther she went, and apart from the light bulb sparsely hanging above, this area looks abandoned with no single door in sight. It was getting colder by the second and a gust of wind blew from far down the tunnel.

Que halted in her steps, fear gripping her heart. Is there an outlet up ahead? Why isn't there anyone around?

"Bubblegum..., if you did not come back right this second you are going to be breakfast tomorrow."

"Resorting to violence so soon, Mi amor. I never knew you had it in you."

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵.

"Get away from me," she turned around the way she came running as if her life depended on it. But even she knows herself it was pointless. The bastard is faster than wind. She ran straight into his broad chest.

"I know you miss me, kitten. But throwing your self into my arms, I might take it the wrong way. Hope you are willing to take responsibility." he whispered the last part into her ear huskily.