Reality seemed like a bubble ready to explode. People seemed like phantoms moving in unnatural fog, its eyes were blinking frantically. He needed to sit and refocus his broken attention.


    Ever since he was discharged from the hospital things had been going downhill for him.


    First, he had made horrible use of its time, he thought that he had months ahead of rehabilitation and relative relaxing when in reality he had mere weeks: weeks of stress, exercise, headache and pain.


    Then he went back to work, he had forgot how dreadful paperwork was. He forgot how hard it was to physically wake up from bed, dressing and going to work. He couldn’t run properly, he couldn’t breathe properly, he was in all aspects an incapable policeman now; one of those to be put at the first available desk doing some boring paper work.


    Even worse were his headaches. Sometimes, without a single warning, one of its prosthetics would malfunction or one of its eyes will start blinking and everything would start fading away and he would feel tired.


    He wasn’t in the best of shapes.


    <<Hey Pxan, I was wondering could you please compile those papers? I am too busy right now.>>


    He looked up, it was its colleague James, a lazy and incompetent individual...regardless that was not a request and he wasn’t busy, he was abusing the chain of command. James was superior to him.


    Those were the rule of work, he would have to abide by them.


    <<Sure James they will be done in a few days.>> said Pxan smilingly


    <<Could you do them by tomorrow?>>


    Pxan looked at him without saying a word “Piece of shit.” he thought


    <<Ok thanks, I will come here retrieving them tommorow>>


    And so Pxan was left with hours of paperwork to do by tomorrow while having a piercing headache. What an horrible fate.


    …


    The useless chattering of the crowd only served to worsen its headache. Why he was assigned to guard a mall that was beyond him. People went and go. Shops, own by the same company, were often set against each other and given different names, all for sake of profit and competition...and to give the crowd the illusion of choice. What was so beautiful about malls? Malls were the place where people went to seem and be more normal, buy the new line of clothing, purchase the new guidelines, chatting with friends over nothing.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Needless to say that Pxan hated that place with all of its heart.


    <<O my God a monster!>>


    Pxan quickly turned around, a chest with the body of a human was dashing through the mall, grabbing everything it could. It was coming towards him.


    His heart began racing, anxiety overtook him, the headache worsened. A hand grabbed him and nearly trowed him to the ground, he moved his leg and let his opponent fall because of its momentum. He grabbed one of its golden necklace and gave him a slight push to the ground.


    As he was doing this the mimic had its left hand ready to cut through its face.


    A terrible scream was heard, and the air was filled with the sickening smell of burnt flesh. The mimic fell on its knees, paralysed by pain.


    Pxan looked at its hands, he had a taser. An empty teaser. He looked at the mimic, one of its eyes was badly burned and malformed, the teaser had hit one of its eyes.


    Pxan hands begun shaking “how have, I-I mean I am so anxious...and-and-I don’t have the precision-” a hand touched its shoulder <<Good job Pxan, this bad boy will be sent right in prison. You know after the incident I thought that you were unable to fight. Happy to be wrong.>> Pxan turned its head, it was James speaking to him. Pxan arms and legs were sore, he had pushed himself to the limit.


    The mimic was a cultist summon gone wrong probably...or a cultist who didn’t know what he was doing. Either way the case was in the inquisition sphere and James and Pxan were more than happy that all of the paperwork would be done by another person.


    <


    > said James  <<when did mimics start appearing?>>


    Pxan looked at him <<mimics are low creatures, created using little, mere cannon folder…>>


    <<Yes but when did they start appearing?>>


    Pxan paused <<I don’t know.>>


    <<You know I might need you...for support only of course. Nothing more.>>


    Pxan looked at him, he didn’t liked the possible implications of that phrase.


    And so Pxan was reassigned his old position in the police...with two-thirds of his old wage. Damn.