I crashed through the undergrowth, running as fast as I could, hearing more of the Hunter's gaining on me.

I spotted a Piece, and whooped for joy, Diving through it, into the Jigsaw Plane.

I placed the small puzzle piece made of bone into the now almost half-finished puzzle, sighing tiredly. I hadn't slept in a few years, from what I could tell.

"205 down, 207 to go... Uuugh." I leaned back into the small cloud.

"Where to?" The conductor of the small trolley I was suddenly on asked. He took several forms, as did his vessel, just like the legend he inspired in Ancient Greece.

"Anything is better than Aborigine Territory in 'The Time Before Man', Chirac." I shivered.

He chuckled dryly. "Pre-Pharisaic Egypt it is..." He hummed, and I was dumped onto coarse red sand before I could protest.

I stood up, and screamed in frustration. "FUCKING CHIRAC, ONE DAY I'M GOING TO SKULL FUCK YOU, YOU SKELETAL NUT-SACK-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER! LET ME GO HOME!" I screamed at the air, knowing Chirac could hear me.

His ghostly chuckle drifted through my ears. "Ahhh... But you haven't solved the Jigsaw yet, Jimmy. You know the rules..."

"TAKE YOUR RULES UP YOUR ARSE, ALONG WITH A TEN TON NUCLEAR WARHEAD, AND MY SIZE 14 BOOTS, YA WEE FECKING TWAT!! THERES A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL FOR BITCHES LIKE YOU!!!" I roared.

"So vulgar... Hmph." He huffed in relative annoyance, and his presence disappeared with one last disparaging comment. "No hint for you, then."

"Uuuuuugh!" I kicked some of the red sand away from me, and grumbled, walking towards the oasis town nearby.

---

As I walked, I decided it was high time to go over my recent and Not-So-Recent mistakes, in order to clear up my current dilemma.

--- 2 years ago,(or 50,000 years in the future, I'd say?), São Paulo Brazil, 2016. ---

I breathed slowly, ignoring the ever-present spots in my vision, and looked at the end of the small runway, and the vault at the end.

'20 meters... I can do this... I got here on my own, didn't I? Let's go...'

"And competing out of the independent athletes for the 2016 Rio Games, James McAlester, one of the best athletes that ever came out of England, and yet he's not competing with the English team, why do you think that is?" The announcer asked his partner.

"Well, I honestly don't know, but I'd think it may be that he didn't make it into the English team? But it says here he never even tried out, we never even heard of him until the Olympic trials, he's a completely new athlete, never even competed in school... As to why, I truly don't know." The second announcer responded.

"Well, let's just watch and we'll see whether or not he could have made the cut." His partner hummed.

The coach the Olympics had forced me to accept raised a hand, and I was off, sprinting my hardest for that vault.

---

"- And James McAlester, with a Gold in all around gymnastics, for the Undeclared Athlete's team, let's see if Carrie can get a word from him, he's been pretty tight-lipped so far."

A blonde woman walked up to me with a cameraman and a microphone, and I not-so-subtly turned and walked away.

I sat down on my bench and began unwrapping my hands, just as one of the other undeclared athletes pulled the woman over.

"Come on, Jimmy, talk to the woman!" She pleaded.

I stood. "My name is James. I don't know you, and you'll never give me a nickname. Ever. I don't mean to be rude, but please, just don't play with my name, I chose it for a reason. And here,-" I turned to the woman. "-Hello, miss." Then I sat back down, and continued unwrapping my hands.

I leaned back, and slipped the gold medal into my bag, then pulled out a nail-pick and began slowly, and meticulously, cleaning my nails.

The woman stepped closer. "James, you've had quite a run of success, even though you're not here with the English team, may I ask why they wouldn't have accepted you?" She asked.

I looked at her. "Miss, please don't be offended when I tell you this. I really, really, REALLY, just don't care about what team I'm on." I said, and put away my pick, then started brushing my long brown hair, as my braid had come undone in the vault, which had cost me a whopping .5 points in deductions.

"And so what do you care about, what was your drive?" She asked, and the cameraman zoomed in on my face.

"Look, miss, I just wanted to go to the olympics, with other great athletes, and see how I did, compare myself to them. I've never been around other people who liked to do the things I do." I sighed.

"So sports aren't big where you're from? Which is where, exactly?" She asked.

"Where I come from, gymnastics and any sport that isn't soccer or rugby is seen as bullshit, and no one ever even spares it a glance. My gender and sexuality have been questioned more times than I care to count. Here, that doesn't happen." I shrugged.

"So that's good, then, yes? Perhaps you'll change your families mind about gymnastics as a whole, right?" She grinned.

"Not likely." I grinned sarcastically.

"Well, moving on, how do you feel about the Olympics in general, like how does it feel, to be here?" She asked.

"Well... You can imagine how happy I am, surrounded by like minds, but the harsh reality is, now I have to go back to my own personal hell, with 5 gold medals that mean absolutely nothing to anyone in my family, or my town."

"But... Those are Olympic Gold Medals!" She blinked, confused.

"And they hold absolutely no meaning in the grand scheme, because they don't put food on my table. Does that give you the necessary insight into my attitude? Good. Have a nice day, miss." I stood and slung my bag onto my shoulder, walking away.

I sat down a few meters away, setting my bag down, because I wasn't allowed to leave just yet, even though I'd already competed.

---

I set my bag down on the front step, and inserted my key into the lock. I opened it, and ignored the rifle pointed at my face.

"Hello to you to, mother. I'm home." I sighed, walking past her.

She grumbled and put the rifle away. "Away for three months, and that's all you have to say? Where's my 'I missed you'?"

"I'm not a liar." I said blandly, and placed my bags on my bed.

"Why are you wearing pants, anyway? You know only men and whores wear leggings, little girl." She ignored my comment.

"And I do to, and I'm neither of those things. Looks like you're not only a hateful bitch, you're also stupid. Wonderful development." I snapped.

"And why are your bags named 'James'? That some man you let pay you for a look-see down those whorish leggings of yours? You know what, Harriet-" she again ignored me.

"My name is James, mother, it says so on my birth certificate. Please shut up, I'm tired and I honestly just want you to stop talking for one moment." I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"I never named you that, you're a girl!" She huffed.

"Yeah, well, in your drunken stupor, you did. So suck it up and please. Shut. Up." I growled.

She huffed and sat down in the kitchen. "I'm hungry. I had to cook my own meals for three months, you know, because you had to go off traipsing around the world and whore yourself out in 'Brazil'. Hmph."

I stomped over, and grabbed her collar, lifting her tiny body to my face.

"Okay that's it. Call me a whore again, and I'll tie you up outside, naked, with a sign that says '$1 per dick', and see how many people buy your twisted old snatch!" I snarled.

She blinked. "Well then, some man fucked the good little girl out of you, didn't he? How much did he pay?" She grinned.

I glared, and in one move, she was being dragged outside, and I snagged some rope as I passed it in the hall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?!" She yelled, and I bitch-slapped her, snapping her face to the side.

As she sat there, shocked, I looked her in the eyes. "I'm. Not. A. Whore." I snarled, and tied her hands behind her back, as she protested and resisted, but I didn't care. I had truly had enough of this woman who cared Nothing for me, as anything other than a verbal punching bag.

I carried her outside, and tied her up even further. Then I dragged her along the gravel road to the city square.

I leaned her against a wall, and set an empty can next to her. "Fill that can, and maybe I'll untie you, mother." I hissed in her ear, and then walked away.

I entered my house, and breathed deep. "Ah, silence... Hm... What to do... I'm hungry... Ah, well, I'll get food from the airport... Where to go? I-"

There was a knock on the door, and I sighed.

I opened it, and blinked. A tall, beautiful woman stood in front of me, holding my unconscious mother by her scruff. I scowled. "Take that trash back where you found it, stranger." I growled.

She sighed. "I've got a message for you, from a being named 'Chirac'. 'You will die in three days, at the age of 92, surrounded by friends and family'. That's the message. And I have one of my own. Keep your family close. There's no telling what could happen to them, with who's after you." She nodded.

I blinked slowly, and then slammed the door, sprinting into my room. I snagged my backpack which held my entire wardrobe of pants and shirts, then my satchel, which held my essentials, (womanly products, because unfortunately I was a woman, physically, which meant an evolutionary disadvantage), and then jumped out of the window.

--- (Present) ---

The feeling of falling broke me out of my trance, and I braced my feet, landing easily at the bottom of the rock I'd just walked off of.

I looked around, and nodded. The oasis was less than two hours away, so I'd rest in the shadow of this rock as the hottest part of the day passed.

I glared at the sun, and went over what I knew of Egypt. The puzzle piece would likely be in the emperor's possession, and made of gold... I already had a gold piece, from the Aztecs... So what about jade? No, Tokyo... Hmm... Ah! Crocodile scale! The Nile was famous for crocodiles!

I nodded and sat down to rest.

---

I slowly walked through the market, my purloined clothes slowly being filled with coins as I picked people's pockets, amassing enough to hopefully bribe the guards to let me into the palace.

But then I stopped, and turned around. A teenage thief was sprinting past me, and he had a brand on his shoulder, of a puzzle piece.

'Chirac you son of a bitch...'

I gave chase, and caught him easily, in an alley. I threw him into the wall, and apologized mentally as I cut the skin with the puzzle piece off, then wrapped the shoulder with cloth and knocked him out.

I noticed a Piece, and stepped through.

Chirac smiled. "Well done..."

"You're fucking psychotic." I hissed, and gently placed the skin into the gap in the puzzle, completing the first half. It glowed and melted, the pieces staying where they were as it cooled and formed a small sheet of materials, making my back burn as another piece was added to my own skin.

"Yes, well that's rather obvious. But I'll allow you to visit your home for exactly 1 day. Do as you please." He shrugged.

"I will, thank you." I huffed.