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Divine Celebrity 89
🕑 Added 2022-12-10 04:02:00 +0000 UTCI woke up with a cold sensation, like frozen ants were crawling on my body, a sensation I felt on rare occasions, like the time when a gang member pulled a knife on me when I was fourteen, determined to leave lasting harm…
Or, most recently, when I was ambushed by shadows.
I opened my eyes, ready to move even as I turned toward the door, where the shadows were filling the room. Similarly, another mass at the window, slowly seeping through the glass — showing that an actual gap was not necessary, and just convenient.
I was surrounded.
My gaze turned toward my guide, whose attention was on Iliad as she read it, mumbling to herself in a language I failed to recognize.
But her anger was unmistakable.
It took everything I had to suppress my desire to burst into action, but I managed to wait. I was literally using myself as bait to see whether she would even notice the invasion, yet alone save me.
Not the safest approach, but it was better than trusting her for the future.
I waited for almost fifteen seconds, each second hell as the shadows filled the room. Before was forced to ask, she suddenly jerked and turned to the shadows. She mumbled something else in the same unknown language, and waved her hand before turning back to the book.
A flash of light filled the room, and when my eyes adapted to the sudden flare, The shadows were gone, confirming that she indeed had the ability to protect me — though her attention to surroundings could certainly use some improvement.
Luckily, my own danger sense somehow reacted faster than her attention, giving me another uncertain layer of safety.
I just hoped that those two layers would be enough.
It was almost five, and the football meeting would start at six, so I didn’t want to go to sleep. Without my car, which was still in the stadium parking lot, I would barely be there on time. I wanted to join the meeting to drive my victory to the team, and rub against Coach Spencer’s face.
What was the meaning of victory if not used to annoy one’s enemies to death?
Still, I didn’t stand up until my alarm rang, giving her the impression that her short battle against the shadows went unnoticed. I had no idea whether it would actually help me or not, but until she gave me a reason to trust her, I would do my best to pile up advantages.
She continued reading while I got dressed, and turned to her. “I need to go to the meeting,” I said. “Are you ready?”
She sent me an annoyed glare. “No, I need to finish this book,” she said. I wanted to argue, but her tone brokered no argument.
Hiding my frown took everything I had, but my determination to play along with her little concerns was still stronger for the moment. “I can carry the book with me, and you can read it while we walk,” I said, which didn’t cure her annoyed glare. “If I don’t go to the meeting, they will kick me out of the team, and we won’t have any more intent,” I argued, quickly giving her a reason to change her mind.
After a pause, she nodded, pointing to a few books. “Bring those with you,” she said.
“As you wish,” I said with a sigh, glad that my reputation as a nerdy football player had long been set, enough not to raise any questions. And even if they asked, I could simply bullshit something about Greek battle tactics and their possible applications to football.
So, I started running toward the stadium, a duffel filled with books and sports equipment on my back as I covered the great distance with a rapidness that would make a marathon runner jealous.
Recovery and Stamina were a devastating combination.
I considered joining athletism events for a moment, but the dangerously curious expression the professor displayed the last night made me write off that option quickly. It was one thing to dominate a lower-division football league. It barely made me a local celebrity, an impressive curiosity, but I wasn’t the first high-caliber player that slipped through the top colleges’ recruitment due to various reasons.
Competing and defeating the best of the world, especially with a body type that didn’t fit the sport in question, was simply too suspicious. I had enough problems with the shadows not to escalate things further.
I continued to run toward the meeting, but since I used one of the side roads to avoid coming across the other players, I managed to avoid them. My guide continued to read the book, mumbling more than once about how much nonsense the writing was, but other than questioning Zeus’ identity as the leader of the gods, and her fearful reaction to the name of Persephone, she managed to keep her complaints silent.
Fascinating, I thought even as I arrived at the stadium, barely in time. Still, even then, rather than rushing toward the locker room first, I went to the parking lot, and checked my car carefully, remembering what had happened with my car the last time I had won a bet against Kevin.
After five minutes of careful checking, I made sure that it was completely untouched. “Lucky,” I thought, though it wasn’t me that was lucky.
It was them.
The last time they messed with my car, I stole Kevin’s girlfriend, humiliated him in front of the school, and ultimately found a way to defeat him in his own area of expertise.
It seemed that the offensive team realized that, the next time, I wouldn’t be so nice.
But, as I walked through the corridor to drop my bag at the locker room, a frown found its way to my face despite the perfect condition of my car.
The stadium was too empty. It wasn’t the lack of the players, as I expected them to be already in the meeting room. Coach Bill forced that habit on the team, and I didn’t expect it to be broken in less than a week.
That still explained the sudden sense of desolation.
It took a moment for me to realize. A place as huge as the stadium required a significant amount of care, delivered by a large team of custodial staff, to function appropriately. At this hour, they should have already been around, conducting their daily cleaning.
It was even more necessary due to yesterday’s unscheduled attendance of the fans to my challenge, creating a great mess after our dear coach’s sudden streak of violence.
Not a good sign, I thought as I continued to walk, noting some of the doors were locked, and some lights that were supposed to be working turned down. Things were even more intense in the locker room, jerseys were thrown around, more than one ripped badly, several lockers were broken, and garbage was everywhere.
I even noticed a dried pool of blood in a corner, suggesting that the punch I had received from the coach wasn’t the end of the violence.
Yet, I was more interested in the fact that it wasn’t cleaned than the fight itself. It was an actual health code violation, and it was great outside my expectations.
“I will see what’s going on in the meeting,” I murmured as I quickly undressed and stepped into the shower, which was an even bigger mess, with wet, discarded towels piled around, smelling bad.
I carefully stepped around them and turned on the shower, only to be hit by cold water. Freezing cold, carrying the full strength of the winter. I grunted in dissatisfaction even as I showered as quickly as I could manage — even with my Traits, a freezing cold shower was not pleasant.
I finished the shower and grabbed my own bag, not even checking my own locker. Considering the condition of the rest of the locker room, I wasn’t particularly willing to check my own locker.
The smell that was coming from that direction was dissuading enough. I didn’t know if it came from my locker or the nearby ones, nor that I cared enough to check.
Instead, I walked deeper into the stadium, toward the meeting room, and most of the lights turned off. My frown deepened as I continued as I arrived at the meeting room.
The meeting was about to start, but even from outside, I could see none of the screens were turned on — the lack of flickers enough to deduce that. However, the low rumble of people talking reached my ear, showing the room was completely empty.
Curious, I opened the door, and stepped into a room that was supposed to be filled with almost ninety players — with all the starters, backups, and practice squad combined — and almost twenty members of the coaching team, only to be greeted with a desolate view.
Barely thirty players, mostly defensive players, and a few practice squad members to bolster, and only one coach, Coach Juana…
How interesting…
Comments
KingConner
Thanks 4 the chapter!😋👍
