A couple of minutes after Angora left, a familiar figure appeared in the throne room. It was Jacob. Only, he appeared to be devoid of life. He wasn't even curious about how he had gotten here or what his purpose was; he only sat listlessly on the floor without caring for whatever happened to him.
"Hmm... interesting, so that's how it is."
"You know it's funny; the others were so eager to attain power they literally begged for it."
Jacob didn't respond, and it was funny how the voice was talking to him as if he was in his right state of mind. He wasn't, and even if he was, he obviously didn't look it.
"You should already understand, right? It's not as if you lived a fulfilling life. You begged all your life. Even before the apocalypse descended, you really didn't have anything going for you – no lover, no wealth, no happiness. Your life was a bundle of one bad luck after another." Jacob again didn't respond.
"You couldn't even protect your sister. You don't even have the courage to take your revenge."
It was at this point the seemingly comatose Jacob raised his head and glared into the darkness, but he immediately regretted it as his face was immediately met with the marble floors, blood began pooling in the depression he formed on the floors.
"What right do you have to glare at me? You didn't even have the courage to glare at your sister's murderer."
"Pathetic fool, what do you expect to achieve by feigning ignorance? Do you intend to perhaps rejoin your sister in the afterlife? What a pathetic soul. Your spirit is weak, your will nonexistent. It wasn't fate that caused your misfortune; it's a wonder how you were chosen to be a candidate. Souls like yours have no right to envision the afterlife; souls like yours have been condemned to suffer in hell."
As the voice continued raining insults on Jacob, the man himself was still stuck face flat against the deformed floors. He couldn't even refute if he wanted to; it wasn't as if she was wrong, exactly.
He was truly a pathetic person; even before the apocalypse, he was no better. He couldn't attend college; he spent most of his time on his PC, and even that wasn't because he wanted to, but he had to. He was bullied into playing games for others, and when he couldn't meet up, he would be messed up pretty bad.
And during the apocalypse, he didn't really do anything of importance. He didn't join the scavenging parties, neither did he work in the town; all he really did was look after his sister, and how had that ended.
It wasn't as if he couldn't do these things; he just really didn't want to. It was like there was no thrill for him, no motivation. But to others, those were just excuses for his incompetence, and strictly speaking, they were. However, that was him, and if it brought him to his demise, then so be it. There was no use malding over it, and he honestly didn't want to do it again.
"Well, it's not as if you have a choice now. You have been chosen as one of the contenders for the successor's legacy, and you will play your part. Light-bearer, show us your worth." Immediately the voice declared, Jacob felt something click in him, like the voice had said earlier he wasn't ignorant of what was happening.
Somehow he had been roped into a game of sorts where people like him would have to fight for this supposed legacy. But unlike before when he chose to ignore this mandate and left his body to its instincts, he now felt compelled to go back and take over, and that was exactly what he did as he immediately vanished from the throne room.
"Well, isn't that a first, dear? A mortal that can withstand my bewitchment." The voice spoke again as the darkness that veiled her seemed to tremble.
***
In the midst of blood debris and flames, the remains of what once was a thriving village, a naked man lay amidst the blood-gurgling scene, apparently unblemished by the sickening background that surrounded him.
He had jet-black hair that covered most of his back; his body showed contours that helped outline his muscles. His skin was a dark shade of brown that glistened from the light of the flames.
The naked man began to twitch, appearing to be waking up. He sat up with a confused expression on his face, parted the hair that stuck to his face to reveal a pair of glistening onyx eyes.
He kept his hand on his head, trying to recollect how or when he got here. After a couple of seconds of pondering, the memories started pouring into him like a broken dam – from the moment he ate his sister to when he made a feast of his people, nothing was held back from him.
His face contorted in disgust, and he couldn't help but retch. He tried as hard as he could to force out everything he had eaten, but he couldn't. The only thing that kept coming out was his saliva and phlegm.
"W...what have I done?"
"No, no, no, no, Ella, Mark, urrghh."
He quickly stood up and made enough distance from the scene of his chef-d'oeuvre.
After enough time passed for him to digest his actions, he began to think about what happened to him. Strange things had been happening to him, and he somehow was not as ruffled up as he assumed he should be.
Hell, he was more confused at how easily he got over his massacre and ingesting of his fellow human beings; he even fed on his sister's corpse.
'Ella... she didn't deserve to die...I swear I'll avenge you, I guess i should head to the capital for now, I should find answers there'
'But what's this on my side, and why is my hair so long? Wait, I'm black now?'
Jacob seemed to just notice the new changes with his body, and it was safe to say how shocked he was.
"There was that room too with the voice... I'll think about it later. I guess I should first get something to wear."