After all, there was a gap between the Eric you knew, and the Eric now. These things have all aligned themselves and have written down the story that will surpass generations and great distances of time. Eric was now five years older. Things began to feel rather distant to him. His youth was now running thin, and unfortunately he needed every last drop of it. Crossing these distances of time and space had worn his body thin. Locked away in a cell, Eric counted the days he had before he would be let go by the syndicate, but he didn't quite grasp that the syndicate needed him for one more task. Since his cell door had not been opened in Five years, there was a seal of mold and dust which made the door almost impenetrable. The guards did everything in their power to open it by kicking it and pushing it. Their efforts were acknowledged by the seal and it broke loose. The dust in Eric's cell created a wave when the seal was broken, and the wave scattered the dust throughout the room, even into the darkest corners. After this whole experience, the guards were greeted by a smell so putrid they began gagging immediately. It was the smell of Eric, for he hadn't showered in Five years. Then, after their gagging, the guards delivered the news to Eric.
"Eric York, your presence has been requested by the syndicate heads."
Eric looked out into the doorframe. He saw light for his first time in five years, and never had he been more excited for anything so stupid in his life before. The guards brought him out of his cell, and when they did, Eric revealed his true self. His eye was now a gray color due to the lack of sun, and his hair also had begun to turn gray. His voice was nothing more than a whisper, and it held no value to him anymore. Age had worn him down. Nothing in this world could ever truly be any harsher than the realities of age. During his sentence, he grew a beard that showed his age almost indefinitely. He stunk of an odor that smelled of death, and he looked like a walking corpse. The syndicate decided that it would be in their best interest to give Eric a shower, so they did, and the shower was rejuvenating for Eric. It had been over five years since he had a shower, and it felt like a little bit of his youth was coming back to him. Once he was done taking his shower, the syndicate clothed him in a new collared shirt and jeans, and then, he was presented to the syndicate.
"Eric York, I am sure by now that you realize that you are only a couple days away from when your sentencing is supposed to end, but we have one more task that we need you to do." The first head of the syndicate addressed Eric.
Eric cleared his throat and spoke almost in a whisper due to it being years since he had spoken to anyone, "I thought that I only needed to wait five years."
"You did, but now you must do this one last favor for us." The second head of the syndicate spoke.
"I don't want to kill anymore people."
"No no no, nothing like that. We need you to burn something." The third head of the syndicate reassured Eric
"Are you joking? That seems pretty easy. Where is it? Do I need to make a fire?" Eric questioned not understanding the absolute magnitude of the situation.
"Well, it is a building, a library." The fourth head of the syndicate spoke.
"No."
"Then we will reinstate your first sentence of one hundred years." The first head of the syndicate replied
"No, you can't make me do that. Books are sacred."
"What choice do you have? Do you want all of those lives that you took to go to waste?" The second head of the syndicate manipulated.
"No, but I also don't want to do this."
"Mr. York I would be personally willing to join you to help you complete this task." The third head of the syndicate spoke.
"Fine, I'll do it, on one condition. I never have to deal with any of you people ever again." The convincing finally crept into Eric's soul, and he had no choice but to listen.
"That is acceptable." The third head of the syndicate and Eric both walked up that terribly long set of stairs out of the syndicate's headquarters, and made their way to the library.
Once Eric reached the surface of the Earth, an overwhelming sensation blew in his face. It was an icy wind. He began to grow emotional, for it had been years since he had felt wind's touch. He stepped into the world and felt fresh air pass through his nose, and he fell in love with the world again. He saw the snow on the mountains which filled his heart with desire. As Eric and the syndicate head walked to the library, a snow storm weeped into town. Once they had turned a corner on a certain street Eric and the syndicate head then saw the library, and Eric turned to the syndicate head and asked, "Why are you doing this?"
"Because, the syndicate will be more powerful."
"Do you want this though?"
"Whether I want this or not is of no concern to the syndicate. I am merely a pawn in the syndicate's plan to take control."
"But you are the syndicate."
"No, I am only a tool."
The two of them arrived at the library. Eric's heart shrieked and let out a terrible sigh of absolute desperation and unwillingness to complete the task that was presented in front of him. It was night. Terrible, cold, awful night had its deathly grimming haunting hands on every last little piece of the sky, but there was a pierce of orange that struck the night's sky with a bright orange arrow. The syndicate head, with all the eagerness and desperation in the world shuffled through his pockets and revealed a couple matches and a torch drenched in alcohol.
"I can only assist you in this manner, Eric" The syndicate said to Eric
"I can't do this. These are books. They are sacred."
"They hold no value to you, they are just pages that hold no value other than fuel for a fire."
The syndicate head handed the matches and torch like a gift to Eric, but Eric tried with all his might to refuse it.
"Come on, it's just like the orphanage. Burn it."
"How do you know about that?"
"We've been following you for a long long time Mr. York."
Eric's eyes wandered towards the matches staring at them uncontrollably.
"You truly are a waste of time, Mr. York. Think about all those people that gave their lives up so that you, you could have this opportunity right at this very moment."
The head then grabbed Eric's wrist violently and placed a match in his hand.
"Light it. You have no choice but to light it."
"It's a library. There is nothing in this world that holds a greater value to me than it."
"You have no other choice. Everything that you have fought for will die today if you do not follow through with this."
The syndicate head then grabbed Eric's wrist again and lit the match that was in his hand by striking it on the wall. He then lit the torch and put it into Eric's hand.
"One piece of paper is all that it needs."
The head then assisted Eric's wrist and lit a single piece of paper from a book believed to be The Great Gatsby. After the initial spark, the entire library was in flames, and the syndicate head and Eric fled the scene.
Once they found safety, Eric looked back towards the library. A plume of smoke terrorized the air and suffocated it by choking all of the oxygen out of it.
"Why, Why did you make me do this?" Eric questioned the syndicate who he thought was right behind him, but he had disappeared ceaselessly without any evidence onto where he went. Eric began to fall into a deep sorrow. Eric ran out of options of places where he could go, so he went to his old house even though it had been years since he had stepped through the door.
After that he believed that all his worries were behind him, but one trouble prevailed over all which had been forgotten to the solemn of time and his name was Jose.