MANCHESTER, UK
2025
Peter walked out of St. James Academy main building with an indifferent expression. He let out a huge sigh, tired and stressed from another day at the place he calls ' Hell'. His uniform is a bit rough and dirty from messing around with his mates at the Football pitch.
There was no practice again at the Football club today since the Manager left early because of personal issues regarding his household. So Peter practically did nothing today aside from revising for the GCSE, doing schoolwork that he failed to pass on the deadline and being scolded for being late with his outputs.
It has been a stressful week from Football practice, revising, passing missing schoolwork, being berated by Mrs. Johnson again, so he's been looking forward to the Weekend since his Sunday League team will be having an important match that will send them to the Quarterfinals if they win.
" It's been tiring," he muttered to himself, taking out his phone to read multiple messages from his mum telling him to come home immediately after school to help with the family Bakery.
He took a deep sigh. Not that he didn't want to, he knew his mother needed his help because her old arse can't even carry those heavy boxes filled with supplies anymore, but rather he already made plans this afternoon.
Peter planned on going to a Derby Match between City and United with his mates, his City shirt is already in his bag. But he can't argue with his mum, last time he did that, she hid his PS5, he knew better than to mess with his dragon of a mother.
" Oh well, guess I had to cancel plans for now." Peter adjusts his tie, sending a quick reply to his mum before walking outside the school gate.
The sky was grey. Typical of Manchester, or England, or rather the UK in general. The sky is always grey and it is always rainy. No wonder Peter feels terrible all the time.
He once read a study online that the Weather affects a person's mood, at first he thought it was bollocks. But then he reflected that it's always raining, drizzling and wet all the time in Manchester and he feels like shite. The philosophy teacher told him correlation doesn't mean causation, but he's not gonna apply this logic here because he believes the weather influenced his mood.
When he walked out the gate, he saw his mate Alfred trying to flirt with some lass but got cursed out instead. Some Year 11s laughed at him and he screamed at them.
Peter chuckled," Hey Alfie, not much luck eh?"
" Girls these days are so dramatic. I was just messing around, I only flipped their skirts, they're acting like I touched them in the rear
" Alfred folds his arms and laughed.
" Fix your uniform, mate. That witch is gonna come at you again." Peter fixed Alfred's collar.
" Oh come on, now. That witch Ms. Thompson is not here so you got nothing to worry anout. Besides you look like shite, what happened to you?" Alfred raised his eyebrow.
" I messed around with Noah at the pitch." He sighed before pausing to look around.
Noah is not anywhere to be found. Typically at this hour, the three of them would be together to hang out after school.
"Speaking of Noah, where is he?" Peter asked, looking around the sea of students but not seeing his friend anywhere.
" I think he got into detention again." Alfred said, looking unsure.
" Detention?" Peter muttered in disbelief," It's his third time this week! What'd he do this time?"
"Oh he skipped fourth period to vape in the bathroom stalls." Alfred informed.
Peter shook his head. Of all things that troublemaker Noah do to get detention, vaping? He doesn't believe that. That bloke can't even afford a vape.
" Vape? I don't believe that. He's too broke to even get one." Peter
" Are you sure?" Alfred appeared annoyed, showing a picture of Alfred vaping with some wannabe roadmen at the bathroom stalls.
Peter let out a huge tired groan, he doesn't even know what to expect from this bloke anymore.
" Okay, forget about Noah- are you still going to the Derby?" Alfred switched the topic.
" Nah. Not anymore. I have to help out me mom at our family's bakery. I'm really sorry, mate. " Peter apologised.
Alfred appears disappointed," Well what about the tickets then?"
" You can invite your other mates to go." Peter handed him his ticket.
"They plans tho." Alfred countered.
Peter straightened his posture" Alright, I'll just give this to one of the Year 9s."
" They won't believe you." Alfred said.
" Why?" Peter turned around to face him.
"Last time that happened, a Year 11 gave tickets to a Year 9, convinced him it was real, and he got humiliated at the entrance. Poor lad, it was very embarrassing. " Alfred cringed telling the story.
" Oh trust me, I'll convince them." Peter gave him a pat on the back and went on to search for any Year 9s around the exit.
When a group of Year 9 lads walked by, Peter approached them.
" Hey there young'uns, got a ticket here to the Derby match between City and United, any of you want one?" Peter offered.
The lads stared at Peter.
" Yeah right, as if that thing is real." One the Year 9s snickered.
" Yeah, how do we know it's real and not another troll by you year 11s?" Another Year 9 lad questioned.
Peter made a mock offended face" Excuse you, I am a Year 12 here."
" Oi, quit missing around fam." A short lad in a Nike tracksuit pressed him.
" You should really sleep early, mate." Peter commented.
" How do we know that ticket is real? We've been fooled once, we ain't getting fooled twice." Another Year 9 said.
Peter smirked. He invited the boys to lean closer and their eyes lit up after confirming the ticket's authenticity. They began fighting over it.
Peter walked away from the chaos after a teacher broke the fight up.
" Alright, I'm going off now. I still have to help me mum." Peter waved goodbye.
" See you later at practice tomorrow!" Alfred waved goodbye back.
Peter replaced his loafers with Air force 1 shoes and jogged by the pavement on his way to the bakery.
When he crossed the street, he noticed a speeding lorry coming his way.
" Oh bloody hell, can't they read the signs that said students are crossing the streets?" Peter groaned and walked faster.
Before he knew it, his body collided with the lorry and he felt like his entire body was crushed.
All of his memories from the past 17 years of his life flashed within an instant, from his earliest memories of kicking a football at 11 months old, to him as a toddler seeking comfort in his mother's warm shoulders, to him at 6-years old playing at his first ever football match, to him at 10-years old having fun with his 6-year old little brother Steve, to entering secondary school, to him officially becoming a teenager, from his first date, first job, learning how to drive a car, learning how to cook, and his Nan cooking the last batch of cookies for him before she died when he was 15.
All of the important loving memories of him and his family flashed within an instant in his eyes. All of the arguments, regrets and happiness were flushing his brain.
"( Am I gonna die here?!)" He thought to himself.
He can't feel his body, it's almost fluid-like, his vision was plain dark, and he feels a certain type of heat as if he's accelerating into a certain destination, he saw a portal-like entrance opening up.
" Am I seeing things?" He gasped for air, bleeding a lot.
[Other World]
Peter's body turned solid once it entered the portal, dropped in the middle of a forest, his bleeding only getting worse. He can't feel his head. He can't feel any muscle in his body. His eyes are the only parts of which he can control.
A gentle breeze entered the forest, panicking him further. Not because of the breeze itself. In fact it calm a little bit. But it sure doesn't feel like Manchester. Too many greenery, too many trees. He's definitely in a forest.
His bag remained in his left arm. The items in it are his: football boots, tracksuits, Manchester kit, notebooks, some textbooks, his wallet(which only has 30£) and a pen.
" Where am I?..." His voice weak and desperate.
He slowly began to lose his consciousness, each second it feels like his heart is failing him. Tears began to pour down his face, believing that he really is going to die here.
"( There's nothing I can do.. I'll fucking die here..)" He thought.
Peter's mind began thinking on every regrets he can remember, from disappointing his parents with his behaviour, letting down his friends, and missing a crucial penalty last season that would've sent his team to the finals. Every regret he could remember flashed within his very eyes.
Peter remembers all the things people said about him behind his back: he's a failure, a delinquent LARping a footballer, a delusional maniac who thinks he has a chance of going pro, an idealist with a crazy dream only to end up working at Tesco. Every insult he can remember, he starts to accept them. Maybe he is a failure. Maybe he is a delusional maniac. Maybe is a delinquent playing footballer. It's not going to matter, right? He's gonna die. Right here right now. Might as well reflect on all the things people gossip behind his back.
Peter slowly accepted his death, waiting for the Grim Reaper to appear. He began hallucinating a hooded slender man carrying a scythe hiding behind one of the trees.
" There's nothing I can do.." He sobbed.
Before he dies, a young woman in what appears to be medieval clothing carrying a basket filled with herbs and potions rushed towards the injured Peter.
" Oh my gods! A wounded traveller!" She knelt to check his heartbeat.
She grabbed a magic potion, threw in some kind of concoction mixed with an unfamiliar ointment to apply it to his wounds. His injuries began to heal instantly like it was magic.
The herbalist placed her hand on his chest, applied some pressure and returned his heartbeat to normal using the potion.
" I need to get him back to the village." She bandaged his head using a soft magical cotton cloth, massaging his head to alleviate some of the pain.
The herbalist pulled out a strange looking whistle blower and blew it, which made a terrifying distressing sound that surprised the animals of the forest.
She's using the Eldan Whistle Blower, a crucial item used by the people of this world to signalize distress or request for assistance when in danger.
The herbalist noticed the strange clothing that Peter wore. But she then reminded herself that what's important first is his health, so he put aside her own curiosity of the stranger to save his life.
After that, a group of men arrived to answer the call of distress carrying torches for light and were shocked at the sight. Blood was scattered everywhere. Though it stopped thanks largely to the young herbalist. They were also a little bit dumbfounded and confused at his outfit, if was clear that he was not from here.
" What are you staring at? Help me here!" The herbalist called out.
" We apologize Lady Alina," a young man bowed to her and the men acted immediately.
Two men carried his body, one in his upper, the other in his lower, they then placed him at a makeshift stretcher and brought him back to the village.
A young man grabbed his Peter's bag and inspected it for something valuable.
Alina smacks him from behind," Don't touch things that aren't yours."
" Apologies, Lady Alina." He apologized.
" Give me that," she grabbed the bag and shouldered it.
It was a cold breazy night. The group saw the torched lights from the wooden walls surrounding the village. The Gates slowly opened, and what emerged was curious villagers surrounding to see the injured traveller.
"Please make way, make way please, we have an injured traveller. " A burly middle-aged man ordered while carrying the stretcher.
The villagers murmured among themselves, wondering who Peter is and where he came from. Eventually, the men brought Peter to Alina's house, which basically functions as the village's official clinic.
" Put him in the large bed, I'll grab the emergency pillow." Alina said.
They placed him in a soft comfortable bed, being very careful with his head and placing a pillow under it.
" We need to change his clothes, he seems to be sweating a lot." Gjanard, an old man and the former medic of the village said.
" Aye," a young man followed his orders.
They slowly strip Peter carefully and slowly. They started first with his shoes, which they find very weird. The Air Force 1 really confused them, with it's design, material and how it smelled.
" Eugh, do I really have to take off this traveller's smelly socks off?" One of the young men complained.
Gjanard rolled his eyes" Stop being so sensitive and man up. It's just socks. We use cow feces to fertilize the fields all the time, we can handle a little musk."
" But it's different-"
Alina interrupted," His heartbeat returned to normal.."she leans her ear over his chest.
The men sighed in relief.
" Thank the Gods." Bernard, the burly man from earlier muttered a prayer under his breath.
Before the group celebrates, Gjanard interrupted them" The Village Chieftain is sleeping. We will have a town meeting with the Village elders tomorrow to discuss over what to do with this traveller."
Alina nodded, " Yes sir I understand."
Gjanard sighed" For now, let the young traveller rest. For he is tired and injured from his journey. Let's strip him off."
Gjanard and the others slowly took off Peter's blazer, then they unbuttoned his white shirt and it revealed his lean toned physique.
" Mhmm, he's fit, fit enough to serve in the Imperial army. I suppose the traveller does labour too." Gjanard took off Peter's shirt.
Alina blushed" I'm not used to seeing men outside my family...shirtless."
" Oh don't worry, we won't strip him naked. Just his top." Gjanard assured.
Gjanard then hands Peter's clothes to Alina" I want you to wash them tomorrow. I have spare clothes that he can wear when he wakes up. What strange clothing indeed."
Alina appeared hesitant" But this seems.. expensive. It seems like the garment only nobles wear."
Gjanard sighed" It's alright. Let's discuss the rest tomorrow. For now, everybody should rest. Go home now, fellas."
Everybody greeted each other good bye and left her house. She then tossed Peter's clothes in the laundry basket, placed them in magic water to soak all the blood and impurities.
After washing them thoroughly, she hanged his clothes outside, she went to the bed and leaned close to his ear.
" Who are you, stranger?" She whispered in his ear.