Elimination Exit

[Harry Dresden]

Harry sat up in the hospital bed he found himself in, his hand immediately going to his neck to look for the collar. His breathing was rapid, a remnant of the panic from before he'd died, and just as he processed the collar's absence, the monitoring equipment next to his bed shorted out in a burst of sparks. The wizard took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He needed to process what had happened. The diner, the package. That green... thing. The man who killed Desco. Then... that purple girl, and Ganondorf.

A fist hit Harry in the head as Ganondorf once again slipped his arm around his neck and started to squeeze. The wizard’s eyes went wide as he tried to angle the heavy weapon to fire at the prime behind him. When it seemed as if he might actually manage to fire the plasma gun, Ganondorf lifted the man up off the ground and smashed him against another tree. Dazed and still losing blood from the head injuries, Harry Dresden took longer to rise to his feet than he should have, and when he rose, he found himself staring into the giant barrel of his own weapon.

“It’s nothing personal,” Ganondorf replied as he fired the energy gun into the chest of Harry Dresden. The blast found its mark, blowing apart the man’s chest and throwing him like a rag doll back into the wide clearing that surrounded the diner.

Harry shook his head, a growl tearing through his throat at the memory. Nothing personal, my ass. He was halfway out of the bed and ripping off the electrodes on his chest. He shivered a bit; the air in the medical ward was a bit cold, like hospitals typically were. He needed to get out of here. He didn't know if anyone was on life-support, but there was a reason he hated being in hospitals. Technology would be erratic around him again, now that he didn't have that collar. Not that he was complaining. He got halfway from the bed to the door before a woman in a Syntex uniform stopped him.

"Mister Dresden!"

The wizard looked down at the woman. The distraction was all he needed to realize how angry he still was and start reciting multiplication tables in his head to calm down. He held up a hand to indicate that he was thinking about something, and the nurse with her duffel bag waited for him to finish. Five fives is twenty-five. Six sixes is thirty-six. Seven sevens is fourty-nine. He lowered his hand and, in a much calmer tone than he would've responded had she not given him time to cool off, asked "Yes?"

She handed him the bag, which he took with an apparent disdain, before saying "I'll escort you to the teleportation equipment, where you'll be able to enter any 'verse of your choice. Or, if you like, you can go spectate the rest of the event before you leave."

The wizard opened the bag and withdrew some items he'd been missing. His pentacle necklace, the glistening ruby in the center that contained his mother's psychic travelogue still intact. His gun and bullets, which went into his pocket, along with his blasting rod. His shield bracelet, which he gladly put back on his wrist. Finally, his wooden staff, carved from a branch of the lightning-struck tree on the McCoy farm. With all of his gear back, he felt a lot less stressed. Partly because he didn't feel vulnerable anymore, but mainly because of the sobering weight of being able to call fire and ice at will. It was a weight he'd come to terms with, and the reason he didn't normally let his temper get the best of him like it had on the island. "Take me to the viewing area, please."

The Syntex employee nodded, showing him out of the medical wing and directing him down the proper hallways to his destination. He needed to see what was going on, and who was still alive. That had turned into a fiasco, and fast. Dammit. If I'd had my gun ready... why was I being so stupid?