The world was dreary, but it was also incomprehensible. Fools acted like fools, the lot of the world. Profane screams would echo from a land unreachable, causing the world to act in such a way. It was poetry that those echoes offered, but also a chance for those willing to take a gamble. If you were brave, or foolish enough to risk your life, you would be rewarded by fate, but punished by man.
A man stumbled through the streets, his brain feeling of nothing but haze. He stared at a laminated plastic card as he walked, reading the endlessly-swirling letters on its surface.
[Mercury Violet Mist]
'Mist' refers to your memory loss. It has replaced your surname in order to help your employers identify your faults. Thank you for your cooperation.
'Oh? They can tell based off of my identification? Can I even get a job now? I wonder if I ever received higher education? My prospects seem bleak…'
The man stared up at the disgusting grey sky, filled with smog and the sense of approaching death. It made him feel sick to his stomach, to realise he was trapped within its nightmare.
'Should I kill myself?'
An illusory letter slowly fell from the sky, as if a leaf fallen from a tree. It descended until the man named Mercury reached out his nimble fingers, catching it softly. It was an invitation from the Beast who screamed, who cried out to those willing to take a Chance.
'It keeps following me, should I take the gamble?'
Poetry. Lines meant to lighten the mood of one's heart. He held that now in his hands. Emotions torn, in turmoil, he should think to lighten his. But those were not his thoughts, because it was not that type of poetry.
Poetry offered hope, and the paper he received offered despair. It was the range of emotions spoken by a Beast from nowhere that anyone would hope to be. It was a chance to live, but also a chance to experience anguish. A chance to gain power, but also a chance to die horrifically.
Mercury glanced over to his left, seeing a man standing in front of a large iron-wrought metal gate staring at him. He had a ballistic helmet strapped tightly to his head, a large charcoal-black rifle held against his chest. Besides his all-black uniform, there was a faded-yellow emblem of several stacked lines on his armband. The man was definitely a soldier.
"Should I read it?" Mercury teased in passing.
The soldier's eye twitched, turning to him. "You're not going to ignore it? Are you a f-cking moron? A suicidal idiot? Don't make my job harder…"
"Shouldn't good fortune come at a risk?" Mercury stuck his tongue out at the man.
"I once saw a man pull his own brain out of his skull, forced to comply. That didn't seem like risk, just stupidity. Why are you annoying me with this news? If you read it, and then take that Chance, I'll arrest you. If you want to kill yourself, go do it. Kill yourself."
Mercury glanced at the poem in his hands.
'Okay. That's what I was planning on doing, anyway. I don't know who I am or where I am, so the only way forward is up.'
He gradually unfolded the illusory slip of paper, glancing at the stanza written in faded silver ink.
[Flip a coin. Determine your fate. Whilst thou be greeted by fortune, or will life abate? Heads for fortune, tails for death. Oh less fortunate, pity strikes, your hope bereft.]
'Flip a coin? Do I have any of those?'
Mercury reached into his jacket, fumbling around in his interior pockets. However, nothing came up. He looked up towards the soldier, his eyes filling with a glistening plea for help. The soldier hesitated for a moment, his expression turning a bit disgusted and torn, before reaching into his pocket and procuring a large silver coin.
Mercury accepted it gratefully with two hands, smiling towards the soldier. "Thank you, I appreciate it."
"Step the f-ck back. If you spontaneously explode, I don't want your filthy blood to get on me." The soldier's eye twitched again. "Go kill yourself where nobody will see. At least spare pedestrians of your unfortunate fate."
'Why is he so pessimistic? There's quite a large chance of me living. The way I see it, either outcome is a good deal.'
'That's why I'm going to gamble it.'
Mercury looked at the soldier, grinning madly, before flipping the coin high up into the air. The soldier's eyes instinctively glanced up, watching its slow rise, and its quick descent. It landed on the ground with a clattering sound, spinning at breakneck speeds in a circle on the stone pavement.
The two watched the coin with anticipation. It circled, circled, spun, faster, faster and faster. Then, it settled. On the surface of the coin, the head of a crow became visible.
'Ah, I don't really know which face of these coins are which…'
Mercury glanced up towards the soldier, only to see that he could no longer control the twitch in his eye, causing him to close it completely.
"You f-cking bastard… why does my job always have to get harder…" The soldier walked forward, grabbing Mercury by the arm.
"Why grab me?"
The soldier cursed. "To take you to prison, forever. Or Hell. Or whatever place they always deem fit for you gambling freaks. I swear, if I received a poem, I wouldn't bother opening it. Much less take the risk. What a fool you are."
'What a strange reaction to an insignificant matter. How does my death affect you?' Even facing the prospect, Mercury couldn't help his expression curling up in a sly, amused fashion.
The soldier's eyes suddenly widened as he watched a streetcar approach. "Oh, thank God. I thought I was going to have to deal with you myself…"
He flagged down the car, causing it to stop short of the curb, a man peeking his head out of the side to stare down Mercury and the soldier.
"A Flagged Reaper?" The man in the car's brows furrowed. "Yikes."
"I don't want to walk him down. You're going to the embassy, right? Take him with you." The soldier spoke callously.
"I don't owe you any favours, Greene. Suck me, and I'll think about it, maybe."
"F-ck you, Benolle. I didn't know you swung that way."
"You never know what to expect. It's completely feasible." Benolle, the man in the truck, chided in return.
"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Mercury, completely forgotten, spoke up.
"Shut the f-ck up." The other two spoke in unison.
Mercury lowered his head, dejected, and sighed.
"F-ck-" Benolle slammed the back of his head against his seat, letting out a heavy breath. "Fine, I'll take him, and I'll do the goddamn paperwork. But you're buying lunch tomorrow."
"With what money? We're soldiers, Benolle. We don't make money." The soldier named Greene chuckled wryly, grinning.
"Figure it out. And throw him in the back. I don't want to ride with him."
"Godsend." Greene sighed in a relieved fashion, pulling Mercury alongside him with harsh force. They wrapped around the streetcar, the soldier opening the door and tossing him in the back. "Sit still, don't make a fuss. They'll bring you somewhere where you'll be useful, probably. You didn't look like much anyway, so it's fine. Good luck, kid."
"Sounds erotic." Mercury spoke in a blunt, calm tone.
"F-cker." Greene cursed, slamming the door in Mercury's face.
'What a strange duo. What a strange situation. Everything about this is strange. I wonder if I'm in a dream. It would definitely explain why I can't remember anything…'
Mercury leaned back in his seat, dejected. 'Maybe I'm the strange one. Maybe this memory loss of mine has turned me into a weird person!' This caused a grin to curl up his lips.
They rode along the streetside, across a large steel bridge that overlooked the watery wastes of the riverside, brown sludge and icebergs of garbage that floated downriver.
The soldier, Benolle, glanced backwards towards Mercury, calling out. "Hey, kid! There's a gun back there. Don't touch it, I'll kill you."
Mercury glanced forward, noticing that the back of the driver's seat had the grip of a pistol sticking out of a hidden pocket. He wouldn't have had any chance of noticing it had the driver not said anything.
Now, there was the sure chance that he could grab it and fire it through the seat, causing the death of the driver and prompting his escape.
'No, that's not the right way to go about it. Then I would be a criminal, and I definitely can't get a job as a criminal. What an incompetent soldier. Or am I the competent criminal?'
However, his pondering's antithesis came soon after. 'But I also can't get a job if I get sent to Hell or prison… why do they fear those who gamble their lives away? And if I didn't die, where is the benefit of my victory? Will it be sent in the mail? But what kind of Beast would send good fortune in the mail?'
"Where are we going?" Mercury asked in passing.
"The Cathedral."
"But I'm not religious."
The soldier laughed in a curt manner. "Ha. It's too bad you're a Flagged Reaper. You would make a funny clown in the company."
"I appreciate the sentiment."
"What's your name, Kid?" Benolle looked up at Mercury in the rearview mirror.
"Thomas."
"It's nice to meet you Thomas."
"I lied. That's not my name."
The soldier's eyebrow twitched. "Never mind. I hope you die."
As a large spiraling pearlescent building came into view, he decided to see where allowing such events to happen would lead him. After all, what was there to lose?
"I don't think I will." Mercury smiled. "I have a good feeling."