Jasper Fforde glared at the empty bottle in his hand, feeling the numbness spread through his body as he drained the last drop of alcohol. He couldn't believe it had been a year already. A year since Marcus, his younger brother, had been brutally murdered by the thieves that had robbed their family's shop. A year since Jasper had taken his revenge, killing the thieves and burning their hideout to the ground.
But the fire that had consumed the thieves had also consumed Jasper's soul. He had lost everything that mattered to him: his family, his home, his future. All he had left was the hatred that burned inside him, fueling his desire for more.
He stood up, swaying slightly as he made his way to the bar. "Another bottle," he slurred, throwing a few coins on the counter.
The bartender, a grizzled old man with a scarred face, looked at him with pity. "You've had enough, son. You should go home and get some rest."
Jasper sneered. "I don't have a home. I don't have anything left. All I have is this pain and this bottle."
The bartender sighed and poured him another bottle. "At least let me call you a carriage. You shouldn't be walking home in your condition."
Jasper grabbed the bottle and turned to leave. "I don't need your help. I can take care of myself."
As he stumbled out of the bar, he didn't notice the hooded figure standing in the shadows, watching him with glowing eyes.
He wandered through the streets, not caring where he was going. He just wanted to escape the memories that haunted him. The sound of his brother's screams, the sight of his blood on the floor. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out, but the images were burned into his mind.
He heard a faint whisper in his ear. "Jasper."
He opened his eyes, but there was no one there. He must be hallucinating. He took a swig of his bottle and continued walking.
The whisper came again. "Jasper, look at me."
He turned and saw a woman standing in front of him, her face shrouded in darkness. "Who are you?" he asked, squinting at her.
"I am Alice," she said, her voice soft and gentle. "I've been watching you. I know what you're going through. I know the pain you're feeling."
Jasper snorted. "You don't know anything. You don't know what it's like to lose everything. To have nothing left but this emptiness inside."
Alice reached out and touched his face. "I know more than you think. I've lost people too. But I've learned that there is always a way to heal. To move on. To find hope again."
Jasper pulled away, shaking his head. "I don't want your hope. I don't want your pity. I just want to be left alone."
He turned and walked away, not looking back. He didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes. He didn't want to feel anything at all.
He stumbled through the streets, not knowing where he was going. He just wanted to escape the pain. The guilt. The loneliness.
He heard the whisper again. "Jasper, come with me."
He looked around, but there was no one there. He must be losing his mind. He took another swig of his bottle and kept walking.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back and collapsed to the ground. He looked up and saw the hooded figure standing over him, a knife in its hand.
"Who are you?" Jasper gasped, trying to crawl away.
"I am your salvation," the figure said, its voice cold and distant. "I am here to offer you a chance to avenge your brother. To right the wrongs that have been done to you. To find a purpose again."
Jasper shook his head. "I don't want your help. I just want to forget. To fade away."
The figure knelt down and grabbed his arm. "You can't run from your pain, Jasper. You have to face it. Embrace it. Use it to fuel your determination. Your will to survive. Your desire for revenge."
Jasper looked into the figure's glowing eyes and saw a glimmer of hope. A spark of something he had lost.
"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"I want you to join me," the figure said. "I want you to become a soldier. An alien soldier. And together, we will fight for a world worth living in. A world filled with magic and monsters."
Jasper hesitated, feeling the weight of the decision on his shoulders. He didn't know if he was ready for this. If he was strong enough. If he was worthy.
But he knew he couldn't go on like this. He couldn't continue living in this pain and darkness. He had to find a way to move on. To find a new purpose. To live again.
He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm in."
The figure smiled and helped him to his feet. "Welcome to the fight, Jasper Fforde. Welcome to your new life."