Returning to her apartment was probably not the smartest thing to do, but heck, Maya was out of options. 

To her fortune, the Draugr didn’t close the door. On the other hand, Maya had to haul an unconscious body up the stairs—yet again. 

“Next time,” Maya huffed, her voice tinged with frustration. “I’m renting an apartment on the ground floor. I. Do. NOT. Care how much rent will cost!” She collapsed herself with Val on the soft bed sheets and waved herself some air. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her body, grimy and overheated, like an old PC struggling in the summer heat. All she wanted was a hot shower and a long sleep.

But when her gaze fell on Val, her worry overtook her fatigue. The Valkyrie lay rasping, clutching at the sheets and grasped at the sheets with her chest heaving with the effort of every breath.

Maya clapped her hands against her cheeks, jolting herself up. “OK, think Maya, think,” she muttered, pacing back and forth. “What did my old friend say about asthma attacks? Don’t overuse the inhaler… and—oh, hot milk!” 

Contrary to the common belief, an inhaler was not a panacea against all asthma attacks. That’s a TV myth, which Maya also believed until a few years ago. 

She never had asthma, but she heard from her friend that using it once was fine, but twice sent you to Jitter Town. Something which Maya did not wish for Val, who was beyond exhaustion already. 

Instead, her friend told her that lying down and drinking either water or milk—she preferred the latter—could also help while hoping it got better or went away on its own. If it didn’t, they would risk using it again or see a doctor. 

In her kitchen, Maya took out the saucepan to warm up the milk, but on her way back she forgot about the glass shards littering her corridor. 

Maya stepped on one and cried out loudly, spilling half of the hot milk on the ground. 

“Maya?” Val coughed from the bedroom and propped herself up with immense struggle. “Did. Something. Happened?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Maya limped into the bedroom, passing Val the hot milk. “Clumsy me, slipped and strained my leg.” 

The laugh was forced and strained. Her composure was as poorly disguised as her trembling leg or the cold sweat running down her pallid face. Val didn’t buy it for one second but could barely breathe to say so. 

“It’s hot,” she warned. “Take short sips and lean back.” 

“Where. Will you. Be going?” Val’s tired eyes noticed the fresh traces of blood on the floor.

“Cleaning up the mess that zombie did. See you later. Relax, okay?” 

After she closed the bedroom door, Maya collapsed against it and slid down onto the ground. She inspected her foot with an uncontrollable sob. 

An ugly long shard had embedded itself into the sole with many smaller ones in close proximity. Maya dreaded the idea of removing them. The pain was already too much. 

Containing her cries, Maya carefully cleaned her way through the shards and into the bathroom. Half of the glass door was gone and too many shards littered the ground. She shuddered a cry. It took Maya a good half hour to clean everything while she endured the pain that radiated from her foot and made its way up her leg. 

Taking out the first aid kit from the cabinet, Maya sat on the closed seat of her toilet. She almost threw up on the multitude of shards embedded in her sole. 

“This can’t be that bad. Just have to pull through- AH!” Maya yelped and dropped the tweezers. “I can’t do that. It hurts.” 

There was a slight difference between getting a paper cut and pulling shards out of your foot's soft flesh. In most books, Maya read how the main character would simply tough it out, grunt and pull the shards out as if it was just another day of slaying dragons.

For Maya, though, it was not. It hurt tremendously. Her jittering hands could barely pick up the tweezers and remove a single, small shard without crying.

Maya tried again and only managed to remove three grain-sized shards out before she threw the tweezers against the wall and sobbed.

“I’m not special. Just ordinary and useless. I can’t fight undead Vikings or even pull some stupid glass out of my damn foot!” Maya kicked the laundry bin and yelped as she hit her toe and nail. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. She’s better off without me—” 

“Maya?”