Chapter 1 - 19

Timmy the Brick didn’t walk so much as shuffled. His head was always down, his throat always dry, and his appearance always unassuming. He was not always this way; he used to be one of the stronger and more aggressive No Ones to play in the Game, but a few defeats had stripped him of many of his possessions, and his morale broke quickly after. He was now known as the has-been, his only Item a fast food coupon. Reginald knew better than to underestimate him though, he was probably still as fast and strong as before. They stood 40 feet apart in the middle of the street, the forlornness of Timmy’s position causing a haunting wind to blow.

“We don’t have to do this, Timmy,” Reginald called. “You can walk away right now and I’ll forget about it.”

“Stop looking down on me,” Timmy growled from underneath his hood.

“I’m not mocking you, Timmy, I just think you’re making a mistake.”

“I can make mistakes if I want,” Timmy said, as he planted his feet in the asphalt.

Reginald shook his head and adjusted his foot, putting his right foot back to brace. “It’s your decision.”

A low guttural hum came from Timmy as the wind picked up. Everyone watched as the growl grew louder, watching for the hunched figure to make the first move. 20 seconds passed, and as Travis looked from Timmy to Reginald to watch how he was responding, the rumble burst into a scream, and Travis looked back, to see that Timmy wasn’t there, but had jumped 20 feet into the air, flying in an arc towards Reginald, a clawed hand extended forward to strike.

Archer watched calmly as Timmy descended upon him, and when the Brick was a mere moment from impact, reached into his jacket with his left hand and withdrew a pistol, and released one bullet at the figure.