Am I an Orc?!

With burning headaches, Jakob woke up, but he couldn't manage to open his eyes due to overwhelming dizziness. "Did I take drugs again?" he wondered. "What the hell, the last thing I remember is being at a Taylor Swift concert." "Did I really take something during 'Shake It Off'?" he asked himself, trying to gather clearer thoughts. "Damn, my head is killing me. Wait, I wasn't alone at the concert, my girlfriend was with me, and we were celebrating our one-year anniversary. I spent my last money on this concert, and now I can't remember anything?!" Jakob muttered, beginning to massage his temples. But instead of feeling relief, a sudden pain shot through his head. He felt a bit of blood trickling down his temple and dripping onto his shoulder. Startled, he opened his eyes abruptly and looked at his hands. There, he saw muscular fingers with long nails that could almost be described as claws. His skin had a dirty black-green color and looked a bit like rhino skin. Bewildered, he stared at his hands: "I'm definitely still high. But where is Olivia? Or better yet, where the hell am I?!". His surroundings looked gray and dirty, a bit like a cave, and although Jakob could see relatively well, it was clear to him that his surroundings were actually pitch-dark.

"Definitely still on drugs," is the only thought in his head. He sees a faint glow coming from a small cave passage. Slowly, he sits up and notices: "Wtf, I've grown. I feel a good two heads taller than before." Slowly, he turns his gaze to the rest of his body and is amazed by what he sees. He has become much more muscular, looking as if he's been doing calisthenics for years. Large, defined muscles adorn his body, not like a bodybuilder, but more like a Spartan, a warrior bred for war. Very defined with presumably 0.0% body fat. "Wow, I should have taken these drugs earlier..." he says to himself, "if only it weren't for the strange color of my skin, and I definitely need a pedicure."

"I hope this isn't a dream," he thinks as it hits him like a lightning bolt. "Dream. I remember, I fell asleep during the concert because I found it boring. I must still be in this dream. Is this a mix of lucid dreaming and sleep paralysis?"

"Hello, I want to wake up. Hello, pleaaaase!" he screams out loud. When he hears no response, he slowly moves toward the glow he had previously seen. Soon, he can see that the light glow seems to be coming from a small fire burning in an elongated structure. Jacob quickly realizes that it appears to be a blast furnice, which he knows from his long reading hours of every fantasy novel he can get his hands on. "Am I dreaming of one of my fantasy worlds? But why the hell am I in this small, abandoned smithy? Am I a blacksmith in my dream? That would at least explain these leather rags I'm wearing," he thinks and looks down at himself again. He is wearing a roughly stitched-together leather apron and simple cloth pants with heavy, slightly armored boots.

"Maybe in my dream, I'm not even human, which would explain this weird skin color," he pondered. "That would be pretty cool. But hopefully, I wake up soon before my girlfriend notices that I'm asleep. Damn! I don't even want to imagine what I'll have to listen to."

He turned around and inspected the cave again. As he did, his arm bumped into a table, causing a few roughly forged steel swords and daggers to clatter to the ground. Jacob picked up a sword and examined it more closely: "Hmm, this looks pretty poorly forged. I hope it's not made by me, or rather dream-me; otherwise, I should really be ashamed. Wow, I can count every hammer strike made on this sword. If even 1% of what I've read is true, this is the worst of the worst."

He looked at the rest of the forged weapons but couldn't discern any significant differences.

"Where have I ended up and how do I escape this dream!" he shouted loudly. Initially curious, Jacob slowly began to panic. At this moment, he would rather do nothing more than open his eyes and "enjoy" the concert with his girlfriend. "Maybe I can wake up through pain," he concluded and took one of the daggers in his hand. With great effort, he placed the dagger on his forearm but hesitated to cut himself. With a loud "Fuck it," followed by a loud scream and a soft whimper, he slashed his arm. Tears ran down Jacob's cheeks as he looked up with his wet eyes. Amazed, he watched the black blood covering his entire forearm. "Shit, I'm still here!" he screamed, and slowly he could no longer suppress the growing panic. "Damn it, if I don't close the wound, I'll bleed to death here, even if it might wake me up..."

He looked around the room again and found some maggoty food that contained more mold and maggots than food. Additionally, he found some dirty bottles with liquid, in some of which unrecognizable objects floated. He even found one with a shriveled head floating inside. Surprised and disgusted, he immediately threw the bottle away.

"Fuck, do I have to cauterize the wound?" Jacob cried out, "I think I'd rather see if I wake up by bleeding out. What did I do to deserve this shit? Thanks, Taylor Swift, because of your boring concert I'm stuck in this shitty dream."

Slowly, Jacob sat down and took one of the bottles in his hand. He pulled out the cork and carefully smelled the contents. "At least it doesn't smell bad," he thought and took a brave sip. He immediately spat it all out when he felt something moving in his mouth. He immediately vomited his entire stomach contents next to him. Defeated, he sat down and watched as blood continued to flow from his arm. He began to cry softly. "Please, dear God, or any other higher being, please release me from this nightmare. I just want to wake up and listen to 'Shake it Off' by Taylor Swift with my girlfriend..."

Jacob slowly felt his strength waning. Then a new thought came to him: "What if I die in reality if I bleed to death here!!!"

Panicked, he stood up again.

"I can still escape this dream later, but not if I'm dead."

He threw one of the swords into the hot embers of the blast furnace and searched again for the bottle with the head.

When he found it, he opened the cork and smelled: Definitely alcoholic. He tore a piece of his pants and soaked it with the alcohol. Carefully, he cleaned the blood from his wound as best he could and saw the long gaping wound. Due to the poor quality of the dagger, the wound was more of a tear than a cut. Jacob checked the sword in the blast furnace and noticed that it was already glowing white from the heat. He felt his senses becoming increasingly clouded and his consciousness fading. In one last burst of strength, he grabbed the sword and pressed the glowing blade to his wound. With one final loud scream and the smell of perfectly grilled barbecue, he lost consciousness. The cave fell back into an impenetrable silence, and only the slow flickering light of the blast furnace revealed Jacob's unconscious figure lying on the ground.

With burning headaches, Jakob woke up, but he couldn't manage to open his eyes due to overwhelming dizziness. "Did I take drugs again?" he wondered. "What the hell, the last thing I remember is being at a Taylor Swift concert."

"Shit, am I stupid?! What the hell kind of shitty déjà vu was that?" Jacob shouted, his eyes wide open. He was met with the sight he had least hoped for: a small forge in a small, filthy cave.

"So, a near-death experience wasn't the way to escape this nightmare. Is this even still a dream, or am I in one of those poorly translated Chinese web novel reincarnation stories?"

"Screw you, you damn virgins reading this and hoping it would happen to you. I want to go back to my girlfriend," Jacob screamed into the void. But only his echo answered, mocking him from the corners of the cave.

To make matters worse, Jacob slowly felt an incredible thirst. He slowly got up and looked at his arm. The sight of his arm was not for the faint-hearted, and even Jacob had to force himself to examine his wound closely. The dagger wound was closed, but a jagged, bulging scar would probably adorn his entire forearm forever. Worse than the scar, however, were the countless festering blisters and the red, slightly blackened skin underneath. His arm looked like a strip of bacon forgotten in the pan that had started to fester out of frustration.

Jacob tried to keep his stomach contents in check and slowly crawled toward the many bottles he had found. Slowly, he held them up to the light of the embers to see if the liquid was clear. Gradually, he separated the clear ones into one pile and those with various extras into another. He opened the first clear one and sniffed it. Alcohol. He opened the next one and sniffed. As soon as he didn't detect any recognizable smell, he drank the entire bottle. Then he burped loudly and felt his thoughts fade again. Jacob fell into deep darkness once more.

With burning headaches, Jakob woke up, but he couldn't manage to open his eyes due to overwhelming dizziness. "Did I take drugs again?" he wondered. "What the hell, the last thing I remember is... Na ah not again."

Jacob opened his eyes and looked directly at his arm. From a forgotten piece of bacon, it had turned into fresh-from-the-package bacon.

"Phew, what a relief. It seems my arm is slowly getting better. But I'm still trapped here. How long have I actually been here?" he pondered as he looked around the cave again.

"Unfortunately, no clock on the wall... but the fire has gone out. Should I reignite it? At least I would have something to do."

Slowly, Jacob stood up and considered how to handle the situation further.

Quickly, he came up with a list:

1. Reignite the fire.

2. Thoroughly examine the cave, maybe there is an exit.

3. Search for bottles with water and store the rest separately.

4. Look for food.

5. Think about how to wake up.

6. Make no more stupid decisions, almost dying once is enough.

7. Think about how to calm his girlfriend if she noticed he had fallen asleep.

After clarifying his thoughts and feeling a bit steadier on his feet, Jacob got straight to work. He placed fresh coals on the nearly extinguished embers, and after finding a bellows behind the furnace, he managed to rekindle the fire with a bit of effort. Then he searched the cave again and walked along all the walls. In the farthest corner, he found a large, heavy iron door, but it was locked and wouldn't budge an inch. He pushed with all his might but no change. Defeated, he went to his bottles and started sorting them.

When he got thirsty, he drank a bit of water and even took a 20-minute nap. Unfortunately, the only food he found was maggoty bread, moldy cheese (not the good kind of mold), and some maggoty meat, which he couldn't identify the source of. Although the disgust was great, he didn't throw anything away but collected everything on a large pile. How he would persuade himself to eat it later, he left for the future to decide. Then he sat down and let his thoughts wander but couldn't find a way out of his situation or a reasonable explanation for his girlfriend.

Resigned, he sighed, "Fuck, I'm so bored and there's just no way out. I can't even tell how long I've been here or if it's day or night. I need some distraction." He let his gaze wander and finally fixed on a pile of unworked iron.

"I might as well give it a try. I have nothing better to do anyway."

With this thought, he threw the iron into the fire and watched as it slowly began to glow. When it became white-hot, he took it out with tongs and placed it on the anvil. He took a hammer he had found earlier and started pounding on the iron. At first, like a drunk soccer fan brawling in a bar, but later with the elegance of a professional boxer hitting a punching bag. Jacob quickly found a rhythm, and in a trance, he worked on the iron lump. Strike, strike, turn, strike, reheat, and start again.

After several hours of work, he looked at his creation and was astonished. Before his eyes lay a small dagger on the anvil, not unlike the daggers he had found before.

"Have I inherited the skills of my dream-self? Comparing this dagger with the others, there are hardly any differences."

"At least now I have something to do to stave off my boredom, at least until I run out of iron."

At that moment, Jacob's stomach growled loudly. Reluctantly, he went to his food pile and looked at his provisions with disgust.

"I'll try the cheese," he said and was surprised by the not-so-bad-not so-good taste. Then he gathered all of his courage and bit into the bread.

"No, Jacob, nothing is moving in your mouth. The bread just has extra protein. Just keep chewing..." he thought and swallowed everything down.

He stared at the wall for a couple of seconds and then nodded. "Really not that bad. Is that also thanks to this body?"

A week passed, even though Jacob didn't realize it. His arm improved until only an ugly scar remained. Drinking when he was thirsty, eating when he was hungry, sleeping when he became tired, and spending the rest of the time in the forge, hammering out various weapons.

However, by the fifth day, Jacob ran out of food, and by the seventh day, he finally ran out of water. Resigned, he sighed, "First I fight not to bleed to death, only to ultimately die of thirst now that I have no more water."

But then he heard something. Quiet, but loud in the silence of the cave. Far away, but coming closer. Loud singing, but with horrific voices. He heard drums beating as songs were sung, until everything suddenly stopped. Jacob looked towards the door from where the noises were coming. Slowly, it opened inward. Jacob wanted to slap his forehead, "Push, don't pull!" but was interrupted by the creature that entered the cave. "Master blacksmith Narzug, please forgive the interruption by a little worm like me. But the Great Goblin sends me to fetch you, master. We have taken prisoners at the rear entrance, and you are to analyze one of their weapons," said the sinister-looking creature with an unpleasant smell that reached Jacob. It was rough and dirty, with shaggy hair, a grim face, and sharp teeth. Its skin was greenish-dark. It wore a crude armor and had a sword on its back, both of which looked rough and unrefined, similar to the weapons Jacob had forged. Before Jacob stood a small, ugly orc, like the ones seen in "The Hobbit" films.

Jacob's first thought was, "Now I'm going to die!" until the orc's message became clear to him. "He's speaking to me with respect... a respectful orc?!... I thought they only respected the stronger and more powerful... Great Goblin, wasn't that the name of the fat orc from The Hobbit... Master blacksmith Narzog... Fuck, that name...Am I an orc? And fuck times ten, am I in the universe of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings?!! And fuck times 100 is this fucking shit realy a dream??!!."

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