I should have been dead. So why did I still have consciousness? My vision was black. Was this life after death, or was this my brain just active for its last moments as I danced in my own mind?
No. No. Fuck that. Fuck that. Fuck that.
Ever since I came to this fucking world, for every moment I remained here, I have been toyed with. Every fucking moment. Every fucking day. Now I fucking die-
My eyes opened again. And they opened wide. I looked down slowly, as if my neck was built with rusted gears and saw a book open in my hand. Before I even processed the ridiculous sight, I threw the book onto the floor and reached for my stomach in panic. Noise barely escaped my throat as I gasped for air, gripping down on my insides. Without hesitation, I grabbed my neck, holding it tight as I desperately tried to stop the bleeding.
But there was none. I slowly released my neck from the clutches of my ravenous hands and looked down in bewilderment. My clothes had no rips. No. More importantly, there was no wound.
I was alive.
I stood frozen in shock as I lightly pressed my hand on my belly, staring out into the shelf of books before me. I quickly threw my head left and right, attempting to understand the situation in anguish as I felt the crevices of my face crawl across me. This was no misunderstanding, no. This was a phenomenon that took place again in this world of magic and I had once again fallen victim to the powers of this universe. Once again, I was pitted against a wall that defied my being and the laws of the universe. No.
That wasn’t just it, I wasn’t just resurrected. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe all the events that had just occurred moments ago was a dream. The pain was scarred into my memory and soul. The anguish, the helplessness I had felt when I was murdered by the man before me, was all too real to brush off as a nightmare. Once again, the laws of this world had plunged me into a hole when I had realised something far more ridiculous than being brought back to life.
There I stood, agonising in the middle of a row with shelved books.
I had gone back in time. I grasped onto the phenomenon instantly when I realised that after my death, I had been sent back to the moment I was browsing carelessly in the bookshop. Which meant-
“Old man!” I screwed under breath as I remembered the bloody mess of his white beard. I lost all composure as I had realised I had been given a chance to change the outcome of this predestined result. I abandoned all logic and thinking and dashed out of the bookstore as thoughts shot through my mind, echoing through my muscles. Resentment and anger coursed through my veins as I ran recklessly like a lost child through the streets of Rozaria. I ran and ran and ran, retracing my footsteps back to my new home.
If I did so, surely, just surely, Jay would be there. Greeting me with his grinning teeth, maybe jumping up and down by my arrival as he hoped to start a new project. Whatever. Whatever it was, I didn’t mind dabbling in another invention with you. I just hoped he stayed alive.
I had no time to figure out the cause of me being brought back to life, or the ridiculous marvel of time distortion. The bottom line was that I had gone back far enough where I was still in the bookstore and if I had enough time, I could rush the old man out of the house and take him somewhere safe. Maybe I could call Sylvie for help.
Yes! She knows everyone. She could help us two! I'm sure she is fond of Jay too! I had thought these things, but I had abandoned all reasoning, questioning and such to save him.
And there it was, before me. The four storey structure, looming over me. I threw my body inside, hoping to find him and drag him away from all this madness.
But it was all to no avail.
When I rushed through the door, slamming the door onto the wall, I saw the sight of horror once again as he laid down on the floor, bleeding out from his chest as blood dripped down from his stained white beard.
“You’re… fucking joking,” I muttered when a sharp pang of terror shocked my soul. I instantly looked up, realising the danger had not subsided. The killers were still here. And just like before, but not exactly the same, the three men dashed down the stairs hurriedly like scurrying rats.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
The three stood before me, walking me down as I backed myself up against the work desk behind me. Tripping over a hammer on the floor, just like before, I foolishly fell to my back as I kept my focus upon the three faces. Three malnourished men set their gazes down on me when I locked eyes with the middle one.
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Dark hair and hunter eyes with a gleam of bloodlust blazing in them. Like a shard had ripped a hole in my lungs, I failed to steady my breathing when the feeling of fear consumed me.
“This is bullshit! BULLSHIT!” I erupted in a plea from the bottom of my lungs, “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT OF SETTING ME BACK! WHAT THE F-”
Before I could finish my hopeless rant, the man in the middle responded, directing his voice to his accomplice.
“What the fuck is he on about?” He rhetorically asked.
“I don’t know. Just kill the madman.” The one on his right responded.
“Let’s get this over and done with.”
He slowly walked over to me. Memories of what happened just moments ago rushed through me as I remembered how he had killed me once before.
How he killed me, how he slashed my stomach and neck. How he ruthlessly killed me and Jay over a farce of money.
No. Not fucking this time. I’m not making the same fucking mistake.
I raised my gun and took aim, trying to subside the shaking of my hands as much as I could and as I did so, the man approaching me showed off a small grin.
“The one time. The one FUCKING time! The one FUCKING time I let my guard down, drop all my logic, THIS FUCKING HAPPENS” I exclaimed when the man stopped in his tracks, throwing his dagger into his other hand.
“What the fuck are you on about? Seriously,” he said.
“Fuck you,” I said when I pulled the trigger without a second thought. In a split second, the burst of flame erupted from the tip as a bullet ripped through his torso. With a loud thud, he dropped to the ground. The temperature in the room felt like it dropped as he did so and the other two looked at the struggling man on the floor, desperately clinging onto life. The man on his left, quickly abandoned the shock and with a face of anger, looked to lunge at me.
And I shot it again.
The bullet ripped through his chest before he could react as an echo of the shot reverberated throughout the bloodied room. I had just used two shots of the five.
And I did it again.
I fired without hesitation, abandoning my humanity, killing the third man that had stood, frozen in awe.
My hands, fingers trembled and my muscles tensed as I kept the gun raised, aiming at nothing. I had just killed a man. No. I had just killed three.
I had just killed them. I had just taken the lives of three men. I had done it. I took life.
I slowly lowered my arm as I rested the gun on my leg, staring blankly onto the floor. I looked at my hands. They were clean but had blood flooding from them.
I did it. I killed them. No. This is no time to be feeling foolish emotion. No. I had just killed a human. How could I not think or feel anything? No. No. That was wrong. It was necessary. They had to die. They had to go. It was my life or theirs. Yes. I had just cleaned the world. Yes. I had killed them. Yes. I had just taken a life.
I grabbed my wrist, attempting to stop the endless shaking. But to no avail, they continued to do so and I dropped them to my sides attempting to understand all the events that unfolded. My breathing slowly regained its regular pace until a sound ripped through my eardrums. Another slam of the door banged the wall in front of me as a tall, muscular figure walked inside.
Built like a Greek statue, a man walked in with long black hair, dropping down to his sides, behind his shoulders messily. He had red streaks like blood, highlighting the tips of his hair and had red eyes that stared daggers that thrust through me while he looked down on me. With his stern face, he darted his eyes around the room as if analysing what had just transpired.
Those weren’t his only unique features, but there, on his back, rested a massive Scythe with its sharp end, glowing red with intricate designs crawling all over it. Those designs, too, glowed red. My hairs jumped up as every nerve in my body screamed danger.
Wearing a black robe, across his waist, hung metal pendants and chains that rattled in the deafening silence.
With my soul scrambling to survive, I remembered that I could use my gun again when I instantly grabbed it and aimed it at the behemoth of a man towering over me.
“You… did you kill all these humans?” He asked in a deep voice.
I gulped and the words were stuck in my throat.
“And what is that you wield. A weapon of some sort?” His gaze turned darker as he locked onto the gun in my hand. He kissed his lips.
“All you humans are the same. You need to be arr-”
Before I let him finish his sentence, I fired another shot but to my surprise, with another drop of my heart, he moved his head to the right, dodging the bullet.
“What the fu..” my voice faded.
I did it again.
I pulled the trigger aiming for his head, but this time, like had some sort of invisible shield, the bullet was redirected to the ceiling. My voice crackled like a dying fire.
“What sort of monster are you?” I wheezed.
“Your eyes show me how ready you are to kill. And those with that resolve, should be open to being killed-”
I didn’t want him to finish. I wanted him to die. He needed to die. Fucking die. Fucking die. Die. Die.
I roared in my head as I kept pulling the trigger to no avail as I heard the continuous sound of clicks. No. No! Nonononono. Not fucking again. Not again. Please!
“You need to die human,” he muttered and before I could even make light of the helpless situation, as if the world had slowed down, I felt the cold blade of the scythe rip through my neck. And so.
Again.
I died.