For years, it has been a struggle for me to wake up. At my “respectable” age of 89, my body wasn’t what it used to be. Gone were the days when I could outdrink our international socialist friends under the table, and still be as spry as a cucumber the next morning. Now, a couple of beers, and some moonshine was all it took to drag me down. I was no longer the man I used to be.
At least I was a man!
The same could not be said about that shit stain my daughter had with some jap. I mean bad enough that she married half-across the world, and almost never visited me. Now I had to “whip him into shape” as she had put it.
I looked at a snoring form of my grandson. Issei was nothing like me when I was his age. He was weak, did no sport, couldn’t throw a punch worth a damn. The less said about his work ethic the better, if any task got even remotely hard, he would panic and drop it. He claimed it was beneath an intellectual like him to work with his hands. Yeah right. All his book smarts were worth nothing, considering he typically folded like a wet toilet paper in any confrontation.
Worst of all was his attitudes towards girls. He was fucking 18! It was the age when boys became men. They were hungry wolves hunting for some young does. Falling in and out of love, and experimenting with handmaid copies of Kama sutra, that some communist advisors brought from India. I smirked remembering my good old days. Yes, Sasha, you were the beast. No cute girl in home town of Mednogorsk could resist you. In that regard, Issei couldn’t be more different from me. Must be his Japanese side showing. Instead getting hands on, real experience, he spent his time playing those cartoon games with drawn breasts. Or watching kid shows, again with cartoon women, sighing about his “waifus”. What a fucking disgrace.
I looked at the frame that had my dirk in it. Oh the memories of days when I was strong and quick. I remembered clear as day, that one time in Angola, where I was training locals. The place was a shithole, but the orgy-filled nights… Yes, women there were delightful.
Unfortunately, memories that would have once stirred my loins now did no such thing. My body was simply too old and frail.
Still, time waits for no one, might as well start the day. I grabbed the lying cane, and gave grandson of mine a good whack. The little bastard must have masturbated himself to sleep while I was out of it.
“Wake up, or I’ll hit again.” I said, preparing to strike.
Hearing the threat, Issei jumped out of the bed and collided with the rug-covered wall. The only thing Issei and I had in common were our looks. Well not my current visage, but the young me. Issei had the same crystal blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair as I once had. Though he could use a haircut, he looked like a vagabond. And not in a good way.
“Hey, I told you not do it.” Issei said rubbing his forehead.
“Start waking up normally and I won’t.” I replied. “Wash up, you’ll be cooking breakfast today. A proper breakfast, none of that pre-cooked crap.”
With a despondent groan, he rose to his feet, and trudged to the bathroom. I looked at the living room that dubbed as a bedroom. My flat wasn’t too bad. Just the standard one room apartment, which I got as a reward for exemplary service. An old TV, radio, and two massive bookcases were all the entertainment I needed. Speaking of books…
I picked up the stack of papers that fell on the floor. My autobiography. I could feel the damp rotten breath of death, so it seemed like the right time to start writing one. God knows I had enough events to last several lifetimes. Yet it wasn’t enough and I yearned for more.
After putting the papers into a drawer, I went to the kitchen where Issei was already trying to make porridge. At least he was doing it half decently, it wouldn’t be a culinary masterpiece, but porridge was porridge. I decided to pitch in, and started the kettle. It was unthinkable to start a day without good tea and raspberry jam.
We had breakfast. I was reading a newspaper, as usual with glasses perched on my nose, while Issei was diddling with his fancy phone. Probably discussing what cartoon chick had better boobs or some nonsense like that. At least he wasn’t gay.
Suddenly, Issei started typing something furiously in his phone. I was about to say something when bright light flooded my modest kitchen. The chanting choir of female voices started getting louder and louder. Rising from barely a whisper to being as loud as if they were in the room. Everything started to shake just like that time in Armenia. But it was middle of Eurasia here, it couldn’t be an earthquake. Then in a flash my old kitchen, my tiny flat, and every memento I possessed were gone in a flash.
I hit the floor roughly. Pain shot through my body, wrecking it with stress that was entirely too great for it. I think I lost consciousness for a minute or two. When I finally opened my eyes I saw something straight out of the dream. I was in an enormous chamber that must have belonged to a palace or a fancy church. Great columns supported the richly decorated ceiling, where a scene of a great battle was depicted with such skill, that for a heartbeat I lost myself in it. I imagined myself flying alongside winged valkyries under the command of a beautiful goddess against the endless hordes of demons.
It made my heart ache with a deep longing to return to the glorious days of war. Simpler days, but it was impossible. I was too old for a schoolyard scuffle much less a proper war. A man can dream though.
My attention finally snapped back to where my grandson was fawned over by a gaggle of scantily clad women. Most of them were blonde and blue eyed, with a few delightful redhead and brunette exceptions. Their clothing resembled those that priests wore. If those clothes were fashioned to not be out of place in a bordello. Plenty of cleavage was shown, and what little clothes remained sparked imagination and lust more than naked flesh could have done.
So many gorgeous women...and they paid no attention to me, but rather to my worthless grandson!
“It’s truly a great honour to meet you, great hero of Men! My name is Eluria al Lascivetta ” the tallest and most richly clothed woman said in a breathy tone of voice.
Issei, the dumb virgin that he was, reddened and was barely able to hold back the stammer.
“Oh eh It’s honour to meet you too My name is Issei Minamoto.” Issei said cluelessly. “But where am I? How did I get here?”
“You were summoned to my kingdom of Lascivia to accomplish great deeds and save it from the terrible and horrible fate. It all started…” She was interrupted by my loud cough.
All as one turned their attention to me. Seems, they failed to notice due to all the smoke that was created by whatever nonsense they used to get them here. When their gazes scanned me they wrinkled their noses. Damn that stung.
“What is that?” she pointed a disdainful finger in my direction.
Before I could reply Issei chimed in.
“That’s my grandfather Sasha. Is he also a prophesized hero?” he asked.
“No no he shouldn’t have been summoned. And why is he so hideous?” the queen asked.
I finally stood up to my feet. I could already feel the exhaustion creep in. I watched as one of the priestesses whispered into queen’s ear, whose eyes widened in understanding.
“Apologies for my words.” the queen inclined her head. “Your arrival was unexpected, but as a blood kin of our hero you will be treated with due respect.”
She snapped her fingers and two women, who, for some reason wore skimpy french uniforms, stepped out of the crowd and approached me.
When they hooked their arms around my own, they tried and failed to conceal the shudder of disgust.
The curse of wrinkly body struck again.
“Take him to the finest guest quarters and see to his needs.” Eluria ordered her maids.
That was certainly a no go. I was NOT going to allow them to dump me into some gilded cage of ignorance and senility. Furious, I shrugged the maids’ hands off. Of course I couldn’t resist sliding my hands down their mouth-watering derriere.
I started hobbling towards the queen.
“Listen here girlie. If you think you can dump me into some backroom you are dead wrong. More importantly you don’t want me cooped up for long.” I surveyed the rows of beautiful women with a meaningful look. “Let me tell you a story. Just something that happened to me back in good old days.” I stood right in front of Eluria, who was watching me with a look equal parts disdainful and curious.
“After the war KGB took an unhealthy interest in me. You see I had been captured during the war and in those days it was enough to make an honest man look suspicious. So before I could as much as hug my wife and remind her of my love they picked me up and delivered to the halls of dreaded Lubyanka. And there I sat, stripped naked with forceps attached to my nipples, waiting for the torturers to return from drinking. So do you want to know just why I, lathered in lubricant, made 117 steps past the most bloodthirsty сук mother russia have ever produced completely unnoticed, and then came back to take my place as if nothing happened?”
The hall was completely silent, I could hear the sound of their breaths.
Eluria nodded with pinked cheeks but defiant eyes.
Seeing their confused looks I elaborated. “Do you have any idea the crap they made in USSR? Any chance to get my hands on import.”
They still looked confused.
“Fine, dunderheads. To put things simple. You don’t want to lock me up. I’ll do crazy stuff to get out.”
Suddenly I was seized with a coughing fit. I doubled over, my bravado dispelled and any semblance of strength leaving my body.
“I shake in terror.” Eluria said dryly and gestured to the maids who took me and escorted by two female knights I was dragged away from the hall. Issei and the rest already engaged in conversation.
The stress of the very brief day took its toll on me and I fainted.