*****
Strive not with a man without cause, if he have done thee no harm.
( Proverbs 3 : 30 )
*****
I was adrift in the void, surrounded by darkness that felt oddly comforting, like being submerged in warmth. Prior to arriving here, I relived all my memories. They were mostly filled with my mother's smile but I also saw her burden and the thought of her waking up to discover my lifeless body filled me with worry. Tears streamed down my face as I dwelled on my death, feeling utterly powerless and consumed by the sadness I had long suppressed.
"It's terrifying," I whispered, my voice muffled by my hands as I covered my face.
I surrendered to the embrace of darkness and silence, allowing them to envelop me completely.
"You're not dead, kid," a voice retorted from within the darkness.
Startled by the sudden sound, I jolted and searched for the source of the voice in the void.
"Who's there?" I questioned, my voice trembling through the darkness.
No figure was visible, but the darkness gradually transformed, revealing a silhouette—a mere outline.
The figure advanced towards me, each step creating ripples in the void. Soon enough, he stood beside me as I floated.
He gazed at me, his piercing blue eyes seemingly delving into the depths of my soul. An unfamiliar pressure accompanied his presence—an experience I had encountered before. It was when I met that b*stard (Ryker)
"Who are you?" I managed to ask, curiosity tinged with confusion.
He tilted his head from side to side, and although I could only see his blue eyes, I anticipated his response.
"Well, how should I explain?" he began, pointing at me. "I am you."
"What do you mean?" I inquired, my perplexity growing.
"I am you, but not the same you. I have always been with you," he cryptically answered.
I raised an eyebrow at his response, wondering if he was attempting to deceive me with riddles. He met my gaze, a smile playing on his lips.
"It's a complex concept to explain," he admitted, scratching his head.
Resting his chin on his hands, he pondered, his expression displaying the intensity of his contemplation.
"Ah, I've got it," he exclaimed. "Let me start from the beginning. I am a consciousness—some might call me a soul. When my physical body was destroyed, my consciousness detached and sought out another vessel to ensure my existence."
As I mulled over his words, I realized that, to the best of my understanding, he resembled a kind of ghost.
"You could say I am a ghost, technically," he answered.
Really?
"Really."
Wow, I had a ghost in my body.
"You could say..."
Wait, can he read my mind? He seems to be answering my thoughts.
"I can read your mind."
Bababababbbnnbanannnanan.
"Stop."
"Wow! How are you reading my mind?" I asked, curious.
Without answering me, he looked around us. There was nothing but endless darkness.
"Where do you think we are?" he asked.
It only hit me then, since I am dead, I should be in some spiritual plane.
"Well, let me finish explaining," he continued, "My consciousness attached itself to you because you are compatible."
What is this guy saying? Am I some kind of backup?
"Yes, normally I would have been in hibernation, but we are talking since you are about to die and stuck in the middle of life and death."
"So, I am not dead," it seems like a not-yet problem.
"Yes, you are stuck in the boundary of life and death."
"You are saying I am going to die soon?"
"Yes, I came to talk to you because it's been a long time since I had a conversation with anyone," he said as he sat beside me.
"Well, I might as well keep you company since we both are going to die," I agreed.
"Aren't you easy-going? For a child, you are okay with death," he sounded surprised.
"Well, if I die, at least my mother's burden will be reduced, and I have someone to talk to in my death," sorrow filled my heart as I thought about my mother.
"About that," he scratched his cheeks.
"What?" I asked him, but he avoided my gaze.
"Your skin color changed because of me," he said.
...
It took me a moment to understand his words. I looked at him, and my anger flared. My entire childhood had been a mess because of this b*stard. My mother and I had endured so much pain and suffering. I lifted my hand and attempted to punch him, but my hand phased through his form. I tried again, but the result was the same. Realizing I couldn't physically harm him, I slumped back.
"Hey, I'm pretty pissed, you know," I sighed.
"I know. I didn't mean to," he apologized.
I let out a long sigh. I couldn't even release my anger through violence, and I was about to die.
"Ahh!" I shouted, releasing my pent-up anger. "I will forgive you since I'm about to die. I understand that you were trying to survive yourself."
Since we were both dead, I thought it best to forgive, as my mother had always said forgiveness was a virtue of a gentleman.
"Hey, why did you choose me?" I asked, curious about why I had become his host. Perhaps I was destined for greatness.
"No, you weren't," he crushed my expectations with his answer.
"Why?" I asked, my eyes filled with curiosity and innocence.
"Because you were born to be average," he replied, stabbing me with his words.
"What?" I was shocked, "How could that be?"
"Let me explain. We call people who excel in specific or multiple fields 'genius.' They are a cut above the rest, admired by everyone. But others can't seem to surpass the barrier of mediocrity. My friend, you are one of the chosen who is average in everything you do."
I understood what he was trying to say, but his last remark felt like a mocking blow.
"Well, to put it simply, no matter what you do, you will be average in everything. You can swing a sword your whole life, but you won't break through the wall called 'average."
Why was he stabbing me with these words? I was already at my lowest point, and I thought he would understand, but why?
"Why did you choose me?" I asked, wanting to understand his motives.
"Well, I was a chosen average too," he said confidently.
Why was he so self-assured about calling himself useless? Wait a minute, why was this supposedly useless guy inside my body? Why did he die?
"How did you die?" I asked.
"Well, that's a long story," he didn't seem to want to answer.
"Let me guess. You became a nuisance, so they killed you," I guessed.
"Noooooo,"
That was a needlessly long 'no,' I seemed to have hit the bull's eye.
"Whatever, man. What's the point? Both of us are two dead guys," I said.
"Ah, I forgot about you being dead. I can revive us," he said as he remembered.
"What?! You can revive me?" I asked.
"Well, kinda," he said.
"What do you mean 'kinda'? Revive me!" I said, overjoyed.
The fact that I could still live brought joy to my heart. Who would say no to that?
"Wait, are you not hearing the conditions for the revival?" he asked.
"Whatever, revive me already!" I shouted.
He stood up and extended his hand.
"It's a deal," he said.
I grabbed his hand.
"Hey, what is your name?" I asked as I tried to get up.
At that moment, I noticed something. He had a devilish smile on his face, and his blue eyes were blood red. I had an ominous feeling at that moment.
"It is Ze-"
His voice got cut off by the bright light that flashed in the void, dyeing the darkness in gold.
***
Zeru was lying in the middle of the wreckage.
The carriage was completely smashed, the horses that pulled the carriage were dead, and Zeru's body was twisted, with many pieces of the carriage stabbing through him and his gut spilling out of his abdomen.
His eyes snapped open.
*Huff* *huff* *huff*
He breathed heavily as he looked up, calming himself. He looked around and at himself, noticing the pitiful state of his body.
He tried to move his arm, but his broken arm just shivered. The decision proved to be wrong, as all the pain that had been kept at bay rushed in.
He felt a mind-crushing pain from his broken body.
"Ah," he let out a groan.
Clenching his teeth, he tried again to move his arm, but it was another failure. Realizing that his body was not responding to his commands, he attempted to move a smaller structure instead of the larger one.
He tried to move his finger; this time, it was a success as it moved slightly. He found hope in this situation and used his finger to draw a simple spell with the blood that was dripping.
Even as the pain weighed on his mind, he concentrated. Soon, the spell was complete. He waited for it to activate, but even after a minute had passed, the spell didn't activate.
When hope was lost, a drop of blood fell on the spell and activated it.
The spell circle glowed crimson red like the blood, and the atmosphere changed ominously. The sky turned red, and the wind howled.
A mass of flesh wiggled out of the spell, spilling continuously until it reached the size of a boulder. The mass of flesh twisted and turned to form limbs.
It stood on two legs and had two hands that looked like tentacles. Its face lacked any structure. Its form became humanoid-like, but it was still far from human.
"Ÿí ħɑʌɘ ŝʉɰøň ɱʚ," it spoke in an incomprehensible language.
"ɧɝɒɭ ɱə," Zeru answered.
The mass lifted its hand and severed its other hand. The fallen hand wriggled toward Zeru like a worm. It was utterly disgusting as the molten mass of flesh wiggled toward him.
The mass wriggled into Zeru's split abdomen and jumped into it. The mass slowly dissolved into Zeru, and small tentacles started to sprout from his cuts. The tendrils attached themselves and closed the wounds.
Slowly, Zeru's body began to mend. His twisted limbs straightened, his spilled guts were pulled back, and the pieces of the carriage were expelled by the tentacles.
Zeru confirmed that he was healed and felt that he had regained some energy. He looked up at the mass of flesh that was standing.
"Man, you guys are still as ugly as I remember," Zeru said.
"₽ɽìçʚ," the mass sounded.
"Well, since you did your job, I will pay. ɭíɟɘ ɘŧɴ," Zeru said.
The mass brought forth its so-called hand, and tentacles sprouted from it, attaching themselves to Zeru. It slowly drained the life force from his body.
"ɭɘɒʌɘ íɘ," it said.
After taking its payment, it bowed and disappeared into the spell, which burned away along with the blood used to create it.
Zeru lay on the snow, looking up at the sky. He lifted his shivering hand and clenched and unclenched it.
"Ha ha... hahhah. Hhahahhahahah,"
His chuckle turned into a burst of menacing laughter. He laughed like a typical villain.
"I am back, b*tches," he shouted.
"Why are you laughing like a maniac?" a voice sounded in his head.
"Zeru, you don't know the pleasure of having a body," he said.
"But you don't need to laugh like a villain, (￣へ￣),"
"What, you got a problem with my laugh?" Ze raised a brow.
"No, can I get my body back?" Zeru asked.
"Nope, ㄟ(￣▽￣)ㄏ," Ze answered.
"Why? ಥ_ಥ," Zeru asked.
"It's not my fault that someone didn't listen to my explanation, ╮(╯▽╰)╭," Ze shrugged.
He sat up in a sitting position and looked around. There was only snow and mountains. His clothes were torn, and the cold was getting to him.
He stood up with his shivering body and took a step forward, but he fell face-first onto the snow. Ze was not used to his body, as he had not fully integrated it. He got up again and managed to walk to the dead horse.
He grabbed a piece of glass and used it to cut open the horse, dissecting its meat and skin. He used a curtain to tie the meat pieces to his back and started walking toward the mountains.
*****