[WP] You wake up and see that you got transported into a fantasy world. While everyone uses magic there you have a special kind of magic: The power to conjure weapons from your original world and use them.

The ground is coarse; sweat, smoke, and toxic dust coat the air. A cold breeze sweeps as the desert sun burns stale. Bodies, strewn across the land as garbage, twitch and contort at the sound of canons firing.

Only, they aren’t quite canons, and things aren’t quite right. Well, they weren’t to begin with, but now they’ve become even stranger than quite. As clarity has set in, and I’ve realized this isn’t a dream, I’ve also realized this isn’t really the way the world is supposed to be.

Creatures draw weapons, and run toward each other. Not hyperbolic humans, but actual fanged marauders. If I look very carefully, I can see the weapons they’re using. Slow, rounded blocks that cast symbols and move things.

In this process of clarity setting in, I’ve also come to realize that they’ve started to see me. Searching desperately for escape, I’m unfortunately in a clearing.

It’s a good thing they’re slow, and I’m skilled at deep breathing,

Gasping, one foot drags forth the other, as step by step I burst toward a wrecked clutter. I feel heat and see light, small blasts singe behind me; I hear shouts of a language that don’t sound too kindly. Looking for something, at least a distraction, I dig in my pocket for a method of action.

Against my finger I feel a cold steel grip. A strange feeling grows as I draw a blue hilt. It’s heavy, it’s smooth, and feels just like a real gun. I aim, pull the trigger, and hope that it is one.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread