“We’re gonna play a little game called Twenty Questions,” I said.
Bohriam pushed himself onto his knees. He still looked like he was in pretty miserable condition, hands covered in dirt and his forehead bump already starting to swell, but at least his breathing was mostly back to normal. Deep and rejuvenating, rather than the ghastly shallow horror show it was a few minutes earlier. Maybe he had superhuman healing speeds after all?
Bohriam and I ran until we reached the end of the field, and then we kept running straight into the forest—dodging tree trunks and bundles of foliage and never looking back. I was out of breath after the first minute. As a cubicle-dwelling programmer and occasional gamer girl, my body was not exactly in the peak of early 20s physical condition. But I was apparently miles ahead of Bohriam, gasping for breath in front of me like he was going to pass out at any second.
The last thing you ever want to hear a literal god say as they’re bringing you back to life is, “Shit shit shit oh fuck.” As far as variations of “oops” go, it’s one of the more impactful of the bunch. And it’s one that I never imagined I’d hear out of the mouth of a cosmic deity. Not that I knew it was an “oops” at the time—back then, I didn’t know what it meant. But it wouldn’t be much longer until I found out.