Escape! 07 (Patreon)

You guess you will take your chances with the kettlebell.

It’s a large kettlebell marked 200 kg. You’ve never seen one of this size, nor of this weight. You scan its surface but see nothing significant. It’s way too heavy and doesn’t move with even a nudge, it almost feels like it’s being held in place. Could there be something beneath it? You attempt to nudge the kettlebell, suddenly, the first gig you took on as a bodyguard springs into your mind"

You had decided to take on a few jobs to make some money, celebrities and politicians paid the best, and your status had gained you some high paying rolls. You were to bodyguard a celebrity athlete while he was on tour. You followed the manager who hired you when suddenly...

???: “Are you messing with me? This guy’s my bodyguard?”

“Hey It might be my first time, but I’m quite skilled.”

???: “Did it look like I was talking to you? Look manager.”

The big bear closes in on you and lifts you up easily. You freeze up in his arms.

“W-wah!?”

???: “He’s small, incredibly puny. I don’t need a bodyguard, it’s a waste of money...”

Manager: “Y-yes he is small, but most people are compared to you sir. Also he’s incredibly skilled with his firearm, and he’s good at sighting aggressors! He was the agency's first recommendation!”

???: “Huh. Whatever.”

Manager: “If he can’t do his job then we’ll just find a replacement! Don’t worry.

You had seen him on television before. A pro athlete turned movie star who had broken countless records. He seemed quite humble on television, but upon meeting him, he was a knob, hefting you like an object without even knowing you.
The thought of that guy boils your blood, fueling your temper, as you exert all your force into displacing the kettlebell! 

“Damn bear! You think you’re going to stop a bullet or a sudden knife attack!? Don’t make me laugh!” 

“Not everyone is freakishly strong like you! I can deadlift double my bodyweight alright! I-I mean I haven’t tried in a second but I can atleast move this dumb weight a little! HRK!”

You lift the kettlebell a little bit, but as you do, you get a sharp cramp and your legs give in. Exhausted and panting, you slump onto the floor. Lying on the floor sprawled, you attempt to collect yourself, but as you do-

Yam: “HEY ABOVE YOU! DUMBASS DOGTECTIVE, QUICK, MOVE!!”

“???

You barely move out of the way as the 200 kg kettlebell smashes the ground next to you, destroying the floor.

“HOLY SHIT I ALMOST DIED!”

Yam: “YEAH IDIOT! Can’t do much to help if that happens!”

As you lay breathless from your near-death experience you glance at the bottom of the kettlebell. There’s nothing significant about it that you can see, at least in your stressed state. You get yourself up to examine the spot the kettlebell once sat at. There’s a screwdriver! You let out a sigh of relief that your efforts weren’t in vain.

Yam: “Oh yeah, you also have… 8 minutes remaining.”

“8 minutes..? I know I wasted a bit of time uh, with, y'know... but has it really been almost an hour!?”

Yam: “It really has.” 

Still reeling over the incident with the kettlebell, your anxiety intensifies. Should you even try to mess with other things right now? The image of the paper which sparked your last punishment comes into mind. Despite anticipating the punishment, you feel absurdly strung up. Maybe you should...