[ A/N This chapter is dark. Please read it. Since I suck at writing you won't feel a thing. ]
Here comes the question.
If a bungalow is on fire, the bedrooms, a kitchen and a 7-year-old room are burning, which one should the police put out first?
Oh, this is a tricky question.
If I was to be in the police's shoes what would I do? I'll skip the kitchen since it might be the source of the fire.
Also because I'm gambling on the fact there won't be any person there. If it were to be, I'd probably go to the seven-year-old room based on the probability that the mother might sleep with her child.
Since most seven years old, tend to be insecure and are afraid of the night monster. Oh if they knew the night monsters were real they would probably piss their pants. Damn it I'm getting sidetracked again. This old habit would probably cause me a lot of problems in the future.
Hais. Old habits die hard indeed. Now, where was I?
But what if the victim has more than one child? Then aren't I abandoning children. Wait why am I behaving as if this is real? I just need the points for a better head start.
"Oh what an interesting thought process. It seems since there's dissonance based on you not feeling it's real enough. Why don't I up the stakes and make you use your actual brains?
Snap!!
After the supervisor snapped his fingers, what I saw next left me stunned with blood almost rushing to our heads.
There was a house burning. A real burning house. It was a one-storey building. With a signboard angel's orphanage boldly written on it. Painted in yellow with brown roofing. There was a wall surrounding the building with the edges of the wall being terra coated. And I was right in front of it.
Well, I was not the only one and to make sure of it, I looked around to see the contestants as surprised, if not more than me. How do I know this was real? The heat in front of me was burning. And the air from my position was reducing. Not to mention the police rushing into the building. They donned a leather riot suit, a riot glove and a trademark riot shield. As they rushed into the building. I caught a whiff of something burning. It smelt like undercooked meat. I could sense its blandness.
"Mind you there are real living persons in there and your answer decides their life and death. Aren't you excited? Are you feeling the rush in the flow of blood? Is the euphoria of deciding life and death thrilling enough for you? Are you entertained?" Defoe said while smiling at the look of horror and realisation on the contestants' faces.
As if to prove his point. He snapped again with his fingers.
"Snap"!
He made the building transparent for us to see.
The kitchen was occupied by an elder and a young girl. They were trapped with the elder comforting the girl with hugs. I could see the tears flowing down her face. The elder in a half singlet and boxer. Why do I say a half singlet because it was burnt at the end? His back was charred. Not as much as a groan escaped his mouth as he completed the little girl. The fire surrounded them on both sides. They were wet from their sweat.
The kitchen was burnt and if the police didn't hurry tools would not be the only things burnt
As if dissatisfied with the current air the elder took in quick breaths. But that proved to be a bad choice.
"ough"! "ough"!
As he ended up coughing due to inhaling too much smoke. To make matters worse the child also had a coughing fit.
"-ough"! "-ough"!!
So that's where the smell of burning meat came from.
The supervisor switched the scene to a room of a seven year old. With mattresses on the floor. Seven mattresses in fact. The walls were painted blue as if to portray the sea and the floor was painted cream portraying the sand. With teddy bears laying wantonly.
The beds were occupied by children of various sizes and colours. Three were chocolate, two others were dark-skinned, with the last two were fair. Four being girls and three boys. It would have painted a beautiful scene if not for the children being burnt alive. They were running around the room screaming with their clothes on fire.
" Ahh!!"
"It hurts"!!
" Someone help us. "
"Mistress please make it stop. Suzzy promises to be a good girl."
"Make it stop. Please."
In fact, one boy's clothes were torched and as if not satisfied the fire moved on to the boy. Lighting him up. His scream was the loudest.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" He screamed till his voice box was damaged. His voice became hoarse. He opened his mouth to scream some more but nothing came out of his open mouth.
Since the door outside was being blocked by the fire.
They had nowhere to run to
'Why? Why? Why?
I can't watch it anymore. Call me a coward or whatever. But no more.
Why are we suffering like this? Just to be reincarnated. Is it really worth it?
Is this the cost for me to live a second life? Then it seems I can't afford it. I want to stop and forfeit. But there's a side of me that wants me to get what I came for.
How he missed this feeling.
The rush in the beat of the heart. Sweat dripping down the face while knowing your decision can kill or save someone.
"Am I shivering?"Defoe asked himself.
After becoming a god most of my emotions diminished. When was the last time I was shaken like. Defoe was interrupted from his pleasure.
"More! More! More!"
How I miss this feeling of ecstasy.
Show me more! More! I need more!
With his eyes bulging out his sockets and saliva dripping down his chin, he muttered like a madman while hugging himself. He was interrupted from his reverie.
What is with this guy, he teleported us to a real burning building to force us to think. Is he mad? No, he is mad. Doesn't he know lives are at stake? He doesn't care at all. To him, humans are just like grains of rice, very abundant. If you measured rice to cook and one grain fell down, would you care? No, because it didn't affect you in any way. It won't affect your satisfaction. It won't increase the cost of money involved. That is how he saw us. As expendables. After our use tossed aside to prepare for the next batch.
Look at him, that look of pleasure and satisfaction on his face. That sick, twisted and sadistic satisfaction. He's getting off with our suffering.
"You monster. Stop it. I'm done with this. I know I asked for a second chance at life. If I'm supposed to live a second life with such a weight. Then I'm not interested in any life. Kill me. Erase me!! Just end it. I forfeit or whatever," He was a brown haired boy. His face was above average. Something you'd ignore if you met him at the marketplace. His nose is flat. His eyes were red with tears. Clearly shaken by what he was seeing
The supervisor was very annoyed by his expression. There were veins all over his face with his hair defying gravity.
" Fine. Goodbye then."
"Tap. "
He tapped the air in front of him and that is the last we say of the contestant. His body broke down and dispersed into the portal that discreetly appeared without anyone noticing not even Defoe.
I truly admire him from the bottom of my heart. He had had enough and he was not afraid to say it. Be it god or human it didn't matter to him. While I do not dare to forfeit. I'm torn between two sides. Is reincarnation really worth it? Going through this hell just to get a chance at life.
I watched kids get burned alive. Not j don't watch, I just couldn't. I'm sure the old man and the kid are probably dead.
"Sir."
It's that nerd with the spectacles, does he also want to forfeit?
Yes, what is it?
"Fire service."
"Pardon?"
"The answer to your question is fire service."
"What?" The others asked aloud, clearly confused as to what was happening. Until it occurred to them. While they were sad and confused this guy was thinking of the answer to the question.
This guy. He was thinking of the answer while we were going through mental nirvana. He's cold. Look at him with those lenses. Now that I look at it his eyes. They are like that of a dead fish, emotionless. The results are all that matters to him. That's what I can read from his face and posture. It's like he's telling us, I don't give a damn except when I get what I want. Damn, he's ice cold.