Zoe, The Hero Who Failed

 

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Chapter 1:

     I’m not one for cliché openers, but my life was never the same from the moment I met her.

A far off thundering sound wrenched me awake from a deep slumber. By the time I’d gathered my wits about me, the noise had faded back into silence. I checked my phone for the time, the bright screen stung my eyes with text that read, “2:57 AM”. It hadn’t even been an hour since I’d lain down.

Though I wished to fall back asleep before I had a chance to properly wake up, urges from my bladder forced me out of bed. My shirt clung to my sweaty back as I got up, so I first headed over to the thermostat and sighed when I saw just how hot it was. Nearly 85 degrees Fahrenheit, the Florida weather was truly upsetting around this time of year. Oh, how I wished I could’ve afforded to turn on the air conditioning for just one night.

The thundering returned as I made my way to the bathroom door, this time much closer than before. The explosion boomed throughout my meager apartment, so loudly you’d have expected the Devil himself was trying to tear his way into our world. It startled me so much that I actually fell over in surprise. For some reason, it seemed to be emanating from the living room area, but I knew that couldn’t be right.

I forced the silly idea out of my head as I stood back up before continuing on towards the toilet. A transformer must have blown, or something,I thought, not even bothering to turn on the bathroom light as I sat down to pee – if a transformer had blown, then the power would probably be out, and even if it wasn’t, a bright light would only further serve in making sure I’d have a hard time falling back asleep.

Once I finished up, I washed my hands and spread the cool water over my skin, letting out a quiet moaning in sweet relief. I just stood there, letting the water absorb heat and evaporate off of me, waiting before applying another layer. Then I rushed back into my room to stand under my ceiling fan, maximizing the cooling effects as much as possible before jumping under the covers.

Wait a second, if the power is out, why is my ceiling fan still on?

A barely audible groan escaped from the door into the living room, freezing me in my place. Again it came, this time more loudly, full of agony. I crept over towards the source, afraid to alert whatever it was of my presence as if I hadn’t just made a bunch noise going to the bathroom. Stopping by the door into the room, I took out my phone and began to dial 911, just in case, but I held off on pressing Call. Maybe it was just a kitten or something that had found its way in. No need to deal with a bunch of strangers if I could avoid it.

The third time the groaning came – almost certainly more human than cat, I worked up the courage to find its source. By the sound of it, whatever itwas, the thing was in too much pain to be a threat. Hopefully. At the very least, maybe it’d be grateful enough for my help that it wouldn’t slit my throat.

My door opened with a loud creek despite my best efforts, and groaning ceased instantly. My heart skipped a beat. Cautiously, I peeked into the room a little at a time. It was too dark to see anything, but an unpleasant stench assaulted my nostrils. Most notably was the smell of rotten-eggs, but there also seemed to be a hint of… iron?

I partially shielded my eyes and flipped a switch, flooding the room with bright light. There, curled up on the ground, was what looked like a woman in armor, the carpet around her stained red. Her hand went up to shield her eyes like I had, while she scanned the room. I did my best to hide behind the corner, but the movement caught her attention.

She slid off her helmet, revealing a stream of dried blood going across her terrified face. “Where am I?!” she yelled at me, struggling to bring herself to a sitting position.

I panicked and ran into my room, locking the door. I covered my ears as she kept yelling, too afraid to respond. After a short while, she stopped, so I decided to take another look.

The woman looked to be about thirty years old with pale blond hair, but it was difficult to tell with all the blood and grime. No cleaner was her blue and purple armor, dented and scraped like she’d just got through falling down a mountain. She held her right side, which is where most of the blood soaked into the carpet seemed to be stemming from. Her pink eyes drifted around, taking in the sights of my apartment, face shifting between fear to bewilderment.

Still mostly hiding behind the wall, my voice quivered as I asked, “Wh-Who are you? How did you get into my apartment?” And why are you dressed like a cosplayer?

The sound seemed to surprise her, head whipping around to find me staring at her. She winced a little at the effort. “Where am I?!” she demanded to know.

I trudged closer to her, confident that I could run back to my room safely, if need be. “You’re in my apartment.”

The words confused her. “Who are you? Did you summon me here?”

“My name is K-Kevin, I l-l-live here” I stuttered out. “What do you mean when you ask if I summoned you here?” Her choice of words bothered me a bit. The term summoned meant something rather specific in fantasy stories, and here she was dressed as a knight…

“Magic. Did you use magic to bring me to this place?” She asked, completely straight faced.

So, she’s roleplaying? Is that why she’s wearing the armor?I wondered. The sheer conviction in her words impressed me, as she was clearly dedicated to playing the role, but breaking into someone’s home seemed a really bad time for make believe.

I shook my head and said, “No, I didn’t. There was just this sound that woke me up and then… you were here. Can you remember who you are? Where you came from?”

At this point, you’re probably wondering what kind of insane person wouldn’t have immediately contacted the police about a possibly more insane lady bleeding out in his apartment after most likely having broken in. Well, you’re reading his story.

The woman’s gaze lost focus when she explained, “I am the hero Zoe Iroa. Before I woke up here, I… I was fighting the Demon King terrorizing all of humankind. Just ask anyone still ali–” Her voice cut out. She raised placed her hands on her head before beginning to rock back and forth, tears rolling down her face. Her lips still moved, but now the words came out without sound, and her entire body started trembling.

Stuffing down my anxiousness, I ran over to her and tried to get her attention, but she just ignored me. That was when I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I sat down in a chair near Zoe and began calling the police, all the while refusing to take my eyes off of her.

“Emergency Services speaking, what is your emergency?” a stern, masculine voice answered.

“I, um… There’s this girl. She just showed up in my apartment, and she’s bleeding, and she seems… delirious,” I explained.

Calmly, he asked “Sir, I’m going to ask you some questions, is that alright?”

At first, I nodded, but once I realized he couldn’t actually see me, I told him, “Yes, that’s alright.”

After the interrogation, the man promised to send an ambulance heading over my way, explaining that they should arrive within ten minutes. He also mentioned that a squad car would be on it’s way as well, to file a report. I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted, so I gave up.

Just as he’d said, I heard the sound of sirens within minutes and went to get changed. It had just occurred to me that I’d gone a couple of days already without bathing and must look like a total mess. In truth, I would have snuck in a quick shower if I thought I could manage it, but it seemed unlikely. Oh well, maybe they wouldn’t notice just how greasy my long dark hair had become.

I jumped at the sound of knocking on my door before rushing over to open it. A pair of adults in dark blue paramedic uniforms greeted me, so I showed them inside. Their judgmental looks around my apartment made me want to run away into my room, but I pushed the thought away and did my best to seem normal.

“Name of patient?” they asked.

“I think she said, Zoe Iroa?”

When one of them, a short man with a shaved head, saw Zoe, he almost did a double take. “Is that… a suit of armor? I’ll be honest, I’ve seen a lot of weird things on these late-night shifts, but that has to be a first,” he said.

His female coworker nodded in agreed surprise. “What’s the story behind her, again?” she asked, turning her head towards me. While she waited for my answer, they walked over and started examining her. They tried asking her a few questions, but she didn’t seem to respond.

I shied further away and said, “I don’t know. There was a loud noise and then I found her in here. She was already bleeding and she didn’t know where she was. She said she was some kind of hero or something.”

The man’s eyebrows raised and he nodded, understanding. “So she’s got a few cookies short of a cookie jar, got it. Well, don’t worry, we’ll take her down to the hospital and, after we stitch her up, we’ll get her checked out. For all we know, she might have just forgotten to take her meds and went for a walk. Either way, she’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

The woman added, “The police are going to ask you if you want to press charges, but this woman clearly has issues. If I were you, I’d just let it go. She’ll get the help she needs, so there’s no reason to exacerbate the situation, right?”

“Um, I guess not. Yeah, she didn’t do much besides scare me. I’m more shocked than anything. And besides, this is kind of the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a while. I don’t exactly get out much,” I confessed.

When the woman went to get a stretcher, the guy waved me over and asked, “Social Anxiety, huh?”

I crossed my arms and nodded. “How did you know?” I asked.

He smiled and said, “My sister used to deal with it, too. Any time she had to talk to strangers, she’d cross her legs, look anywhere but in their eyes, and she’d do the whole mumbling thing you’ve been doing. Finally, I managed to convince her to visit a real doctor about it and she got a prescription that helped her gradually gain some self-control again. If you want, I can recommend you someone to see.”

I backed away again and shook my head. “Thanks, but I’m okay. It’s not thatbad. Besides, I don’t really do medication.”

“Just remember that you don’t have to live like this forever. Help is there whenever you need it,” he said as his coworker came back, stretcher in tote.

“Do you need any h–” I began to offer, before they lifted Zoe onto the stretcher – armor and all – with relative ease. “You didn’t need to take that stuff off of her first?”

The woman shook her head and informed me, “It’s difficult to see how much damage there is, exactly. She’s not dying, but we don’t know if a piece of metal might be stopping her from bleeding out completely. They’ll be better equipped to assess and handle the situation at the hospital.”

As they left, I followed them out the front door. “Do you think she’s going to be okay?” The dried blood shimmered starkly on the armor.

“You know, you can come with us if you want. We’ll just call and let the cops know to meet us there.”

I shook my head, “I don’t have a car.”

He insisted, “You can ride in the back. I’m sure you can catch a bus back in a few hours.”

I took a step forward, but then hesitated. “No, that’s alright. I don’t really know her.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure she’ll still be there later on today. Just remember that you saved her life by calling us as quickly as you did. She might want to thank you when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him before closing the door behind me and retreating back into my apartment.

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Chapter 2:

     A couple of days passed before a knocking came at my door.

Assuming it was just some strange religion trying to convince me to convert, I ignored it, turning up the music in my headphones. I rolled my eyes at another round of knocking, all too aware of the fact that it would probably go on like this for another few minutes. The sun shone blindingly from a window to my right, covering the half of my screen with a bright glare that. Shielding it best I could, I read “7 A.M.” and rolled my eyes again.

They’re starting early today, I thought. Then, at the third set of raps, nearly twice as loud as before, I got up and steeled myself for the confrontation. That wasn’t the knock of someone coming to ask if I’ve heard the good news. Mom must have decided to make an unannounced visit to make sure I haven’t killed myself yet... Great.

Before she could knock a fourth time, probably loud enough to wake all of my neighbors too, I threw the door open, already saying, “You could have at least sent me a text first to warn–”

A woman in a pair of grey sweatpants and a baby blue t-shirt that read, “Kinda Funny,” bowed to me. Part of her hair on top of her head had been shaved in order to stitch up a large cut. When she stood back up straight, she winced a bit and held her hand to the stomach. “They told me to stop doing that,” she said. “You would think I would have learned after the first couple of times.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, wondering if I was supposed to bow back to her or not.

Her mouth twisted into an awkward half smile and she said, “Apparently being impaled by the Demon King’s horn takes a few weeks to heal, even with your advancements in medicine.”

I slammed the door in her face as quickly as possible and went to find my phone. Until she’d said that, it hadn’t clicked to me who it was. Without the giant metal suit and blood caked on her face, she actually looked like a normal girl. Zoe, I thought.

Before I could get 911 typed in, she started slamming on the door. My fingers froze and I stared at the door, convinced that any second it would burst open and kidnap me – I’d seen enough horror movies. Instead, the slamming stopped and all went silent.

When I snuck closer to try to see if she was still there through my door’s peephole, I thought I heard her crying. Don’t you do it, Kevin, I told myself. Don’t you dare open that door for her. She’s clearly unstable and–

I opened the door, causing her to turn away quickly and bury her head against her chest. Instinctually, my hand reached out to touch her on the shoulder, but I stopped myself before I could do it. Instead, I cleared my throat and apologized. “Sorry, that wasn’t exactly the most gentlemanly thing to do. You showing up here just sort of… surprised me. To be honest, I was hoping I’d never see you again after they carted you off the other morning.”

She wiped her eyes before turning around, and nodded, fearlessly making eye contact with me now. “Right. I can only imagine what that must have been like for you to find a stranger in your home. Especially for her to show back up on your doorstep, talking about something as unsavory as the Demon King. I just wanted to thank you for calling for healers to save my life. Without you, I most likely would not have made it.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to say when she again brought up the “Demon King” thing so casually. “Don’t worry about it. Now, if that’s all…” I said, reaching for the door handle.

“Wait!” she called out, hand reaching towards my wrist to stop me. Her fingers gripped me in a death-lock before I could pull away. “I have a favor to ask.”

“I rather you let me go, first,” I said, motioning towards my hand, which was starting to suffer from lack of blood circulation.

“If do that, though, you’ll run back into your home without hearing me out.”

“That was sort of the idea, yeah,” I admitted. “Though, I promise that I won’t call the police again if you promise to leave me alone.”

Her grip tightened. “Agree to listen to what I have to say first, and then you can decide whether or not you want to help me. If you want me to leave after that, I’ll go peacefully.” I started to protest again.” She relaxed her grip a bit and pleaded, “Please, I don’t anywhere else to go.”

Despite her obvious strength, here was someone in need – a pretty woman my age, at that – begging for me to give her a chance. I imagined that someone as strong as her wouldn’t usually beg so easily. Sighing, I stepped aside, allowing her to enter my apartment for the second time. Memories from middle and high school, when I was known to be a pushover, tickled the back of my mind. With great effort, I ignored them and led Zoe inside. She sat down at the dusty table in my kitchen – the only time I even used the table was when my mother came to visit. Embarrassed, I wet a paper towel and rubbed it down quickly.

Reluctantly, I asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

Zoe nodded and said, “Yes, please. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since last night, actually.”

“Um,” I said, trying to figure out if that meant she expected me to feed her as well. A loud rumble from her stomach gave me my answer and I groaned, looking in my refrigerator at the four two liters of Dr. Pepper and lack of actual food substances. Then I checked the freezer, only to be met with cheap frozen pizzas. “Is soda okay? I know it’s early, but it’s all I have left in the fridge and my tap water is gross.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what a ‘soda’ is. Is it a kind of liquor or tea?” she asked as I went through my cabinets, seeing if there was anything my mom had brought over that I’d forgotten about.

“Soda, like soda pop,” I explained. “Are you from up north?” I grabbed two plastic cups when I’d failed to find anything for her to eat and poured our drinks.

She took the Star Wars printed cup I handed her and looked inside, eyebrows raising. “This is ‘soda pop’?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s Dr. Pepper.”

Another roar from her stomach made me give in, so I headed back over to the freezer to get a pizza. Though the instructions explicitly said not to cook in the microwave, I didn’t want to commit to her staying the entire time it would take to cook it in the toaster oven. I pulled a small stack of thin paper plates out and dropped the whole pizza on them before sliding it into the microwave and setting the time to one I had memorized – I’d experimented enough during nights I wasn’t patient enough to wait for the oven to heat up.

From behind me, Zoe screamed and I heard the sound of the cup dropping to the table, with plops of liquid splashing down after. Of course, I thought, groaning for what must have been the fifth time in the last five minutes. I reached in a drawer and pulled out a couple of hand towels, making sure to wet one in the sink. When I turned around to see the damage, Zoe was standing up, shirt and pants entirely soaked. It wasn’t a sexy as it sounded.

Her mouth moved rapidly as she tried to find the words, “It-I-The drink-Bubbles!”

“Yeah, it’s soda. The bubbles are the carbonation. Only a monster would give you flat soda.”

“Carbonation?” she asked as I handed her a cloth to dry herself with.

“Seriously? Are you so crazy that you don’t even know what soda is?” I asked, passive aggressively, as I wiped down the table and floor.

“…I’m not crazy,” she said, softly.

Without thinking, I responded, “That’s what a crazy person would say.”

The towel smashed against the side of my head and she stomped off, yelling, “I’M NOT CRAZY!”

Why me? I asked the universe. Why today?

Once I’d cleaned up the mess, I found her standing in the corner just shaking her head. “I’m sorry for calling you crazy,” I said, struggling to mean it.

“I’m sorry for spilling the drink,” she said, genuinely.

“If you want to try this one more time, we can go back over there and sit down. I’m heating you up some food you can eat, it should be done in just a sec, and I can get you another glass of soda, or you can have the nasty tap water if you’d prefer.”

She turned around and nodded. “I’ll try the soda one more time, if you don’t mind. I promise I won’t drop it this time.”

“I’d appreciate that,” I said, looking at her ruined attire. The wet clothes stuck uncomfortably to her skin, but she didn’t seem to care too much, so I didn’t bring it up either.

Sure enough, the microwave beeped loudly three times, indicating it was done. She took her place at the table once again as I grabbed the pizza and another drink for her. When I placed them in front of her, she looked confused again.

“You don’t know what pizza is either?” I asked, baffled. This combination of food and drink had alone sustained me for the past few years. To meet someone who had no idea what either were… it was unsettling to say the least. “It’s good, I promise. If you want, I can cut it up for you, but I personally don’t even bother with pizzas this size. It’s easier to just fold it in half and eat it that way.”

Awestruck, Zoe did exactly as I’d said before taking a bite. The expression on her face transitioned from wonder to excitement as she eagerly went for another bite. It was surreal to be able to watch someone take their first bite of pizza, even if it was the most bland and generic kind that money could buy. With a mouth full of food, she said, “This is delicious. How’d you make something so good that quickly?”

I pointed behind me and said, “I just microwaved it.”

Even though she nodded, I could sort of tell that she had no idea what I was talking about. Picking up the cup, she downed the pizza with a big gulp of Dr. Pepper, smiling. The smell of warm pepperonis sent a mild rumble throughout my own tummy, but it seemed too late to cook myself food as well. I’d just have to wait until she was gone.

Finally, when she’d finished every last bite, I asked, “Now, what was it that you needed from me?”

The manliest burp escaped her lips, sending her into a fit of giggles. When she recovered, she explained, “I need a place to live.”

“No, absolutely not.”

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