Tax Evasion In The Fantasy World [April Fools Chapter]

The fat bastard’s fat ass took up four seats on the subway, but his reek filled the whole car. The smells seemed to radiate from every greasy inch of the giggling menace, rising and spreading from under his nauseating fedora. The anime girl on his XXXXXXXL T Shirt looked like she was crying, the death she prayed for not coming fast enough.

Most of us had, by silent agreement, pushed ourselves to the far ends of the car. Not all of us. One guy was sitting directly in front of the worst thing to happen to Japan since Jake Paul, staring him down like a half ton of wagyu. They were kindred spirits. One guy should have been sealed in an orca-sized space suit, the other was already fully covered in a black robe. The stench made me lightheaded. The lights were spinning. The doors opened- Fourteenth Street, the L Train and the promise of sleep in Brooklyn. I scrambled out the door.

My feet carried me on autopilot to my platform. My eyes were burning, my breath was coming short and raspy. The smell had infiltrated the soft tissues, burning and corroding them. Water! I needed water! But after working the overnight shift at the bakery after a six hour catering gig, my water was as gone as my alertness. Hacking and wheezing, I rubbed my watery eyes and saw… her.

She was perfect. Not the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, or the sexiest, or the anything-ist, she was just perfect, and perfectly herself. Casual jeans that showed off her amazing hips, a gray tank top that showed off her toned belly, black hair that she casually tucked behind an ear that seemed designed by the highest angels themselves. One look, and I was lost. I knew I would never speak to her. We would never see each other again. Just two people, crossing paths on the New York Subway.

I was tired. I looked like hell. I felt like hell. I knew, knew, I radiated some absorbed Chernobyl stench from the monster on the W train. I didn’t even try to shoot my shot. I just looked, trying to memorize every scrap of her. Trying to form an indelible memory of the one that got away because I never dared to chase. And behind her was some nasty looking, hobo looking, after picture from a fireworks safety campaign looking freak creeping up on her. I could hear the L train coming.

No. No, I have had entirely too much of everything today. Too much. I don’t want to see the most perfect woman in the world die, and I really don’t want to have delays on the line. I can live with a broken heart. I can’t live if I’m kept from my bed. I tried to yell something.

“GGHAKK!”

Shit. I ran forwards waving my arms. The freak only had eyes on her, but I was laser focused on him. I could do it. I would save the girl and become a New York meme, and they would carry me away in an Uber Black to Brooklyn and my mail order foam mattress-

“PERVERT!” Something burning covered my face. Like the sun itself was pissing in my eyes. I screamed, and some of it got in my mouth. I slipped, staggering back, the noise of the train was so loud!

My head was spinning. Smells, the smells were suddenly all different. I was still blinded, staggering around, waving my hands to keep from bumping into things. I tried to explain I wasn’t a pervert, or at least not one that was a right-this-second-problem, but all that came out was another gargling rasp. I was cold, why-

“ZOMBIE!” Something crashed into my ribs. A surprisingly dainty, if rock hard boot, I think. I don’t know. The shattering pain knocked the air from my lungs as the bone fragments stabbed inward, popping my bronchi like balloons in a carnival game.

“REBUKE!” I could feel some terribly bright light shining on me, almost prickling my face. I knew it was time to go into it. It had been a short, disappointing life, but at least now it was over. Then the light vanished. Somehow, I always knew I wasn’t getting a harp and a halo.

“Ohshitohshitohshit! Fuck! Cure Minor Wounds! Damn, did you have brittle bone disease or something?! Restoration! Cure Moderate Wounds! Just don’t fucking die, okay? Holy shit, not today, I’ve already got the investigators so far up my ass we’re going to need to get married. I do not need to catch a body-”

I blinked hard. My vision came back. I was healed. Somehow. I don’t know how. But something must have happened, because I’m in some damn Ren-Fair looking place, and some blond bombshell in fantasy cleric clothes is looking really shifty.

“HEY! HEY CHIEF! Yeah, come over here for a second. This one of your people?”

“Never seen him before, your Ladyship.”

“He’s not one of them, though, right?”

“He’s not wearing the usual clothes, and they all arrive at the village square. Though I don’t recognize the clothes either.”

“Then who is he?” She demanded.

The Chief was a stout man with a deep tan. I noticed the thick gold chain hanging over his white shirt and black leather vest. Slicked back black hair, and narrow eyes. He stroked his chin. Scarred hands, burns on his arms. The cooks I know had arms like that. Cooks, and some other people…

“Skinny guy, weird clothes, sick, taking that road, must be a pilgrim. Maybe hoping for a blessing or something. Seeing all that blood he coughed up, maybe he was expecting a one way trip. Or a miracle.”

“OH THAT’S JUST PERFECT!” She slapped her hand over her face and took deep, calming breaths. She looked down at me. “Heeeey little buddy. How are you doing?”

“I… where am I? Who… how?”

“Oh sweet Mitna. Oh cat fucking… Buddy? Guy? Do you know the phase of the moon?”

“Um. No?”

“Who the king is?”

“King? What king?”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No. This isn’t… this isn’t where I was. There was a loud noise, something hit me-”

“LET’S NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT! Sorry, sorry, that was loud, I’m sorry. Look. Um. Okay. Okay, we can… we can make this right. Ah…” She looked around, rubbing her fingers together. “I don’t know greater restoration. And I can’t have people finding out about this. And before you suggest something Chief, no, I have to keep things clean. Priestess, remember?”

“And those investigators you mentioned. Should I send some of the boys?” The Chief asked.

“Unless your boys think they can go toe-to-toe with the hard cases from the Congregation on the Doctrine of the Faith, they should stay the fuck inside. Shouldn’t they?”

“As you say, Your Ladyship.”

“It’s Your Grace when I’m in the robes. And it’s about to be “The Accused.” Fuck. Is there… Isn’t that old farm up in the hills empty?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“The old Gramesci place? Yeah, been empty for years. Since the incident.”

“Okay, okay, fallow land, Church land. My land. This can work. Saaaaaay buddy, you probably need a place to stay.” The brightest smile I had ever seen was beaming at me. I was exhausted, beaten up, yanked every which way, I’d have agreed that I was a ham sandwich at this point. And I did need a place to stay. I needed sleep even more than I needed answers. Catering followed by bakery work? I needed so much sleep.

“Yes. I do.”

“So… I know a quiet little place where you can stay rent free for a while. But you have to stay there, okay? No coming down into the village except after dark, and only if it’s urgent. Chief Paul here will send plenty of people around to help you get settled. Just… checking up on you, okay? Maybe bring you some food until you get set up?”

“I’ll see to it, Your Grace.” The big man nodded.

“Wait, rent free?” There were two words I had never heard together.

“Yeah. Isn’t that a great deal? Very generous of me, right? Chief Paul, grab the deed. He can have the leasehold. Free of charge. And since it’s Church land-”

“No taxes.” The chief laughed. “Sure, sure. I’m sure he will be quiet as a mouse, for as long as he needs to be. Isn’t that right?”

He leered down at me.

“My own place, rent free? The mice will have to wear socks to be as quiet as me!”

You try living in a Brooklyn fifth-floor walkup with four roommates. The spot could be on fire and I still would have said yes. And my head was spinning, and I still don’t know what the hell is going on.

The Chief called a couple of guys over as we walked through the village. They ran off and came back with baskets of stuff, and pretty soon we had a whole procession up to the farm house. It was small, barely a couple of stone rooms and a thatched roof. There was a broken down fence around what I guess was once a chicken coop, a barn that should have been condemned, and what probably were once fields. The fields mostly looked like grass and little shrubs and things.

“It’s… uh… kind of you guys to help me get set up here.”

“Her family run things around here, and now that she’s moving up in the Church, well. She asks, we do.”

“I get that, I get that.”

“Hey little Paul, go back to the village and see if there is a spare mattress anywhere, this one is fucked.” A fat guy yelled at one of the helpers.

“Go yourself, Tony, I’m trying ‘ta fix the roof here!”

“Still, really generous of you.” I did my best to smile. The village chief waved it off.