Somewhere in the distant past, the sky wept tears of rain, while the ground was washed clean by the blood of countless victims. The piles of corpses rose like funeral mountains, one after the other, as far as the eye could see. The horizon looked like a desert of death, where nothing breathed, nothing pulsed.
But between the gaps of a battle that seemed to have no end, a man emerged from the shadows. He walked slowly, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His footsteps echoed in the silence, breaking the stillness of death.
The rain fell on him, washing his face, but it couldn't erase the marks of battle. His eyes were tired, his skin was pale, and his limbs were covered in wounds.
The man seemed to be the only survivor of a carnage that had ravaged the land. He was the living testimony of a tragedy that had claimed countless lives. And yet he walked on, as if searching for something beyond the horizon of death.
The rain continued to fall, washing the ground, but it could not wash away the memory of that battle. The man kept walking, carrying with him the weight of survival, and the burden of a question that echoed in his mind: "Was it really
Was it worth it?"
How long had it been? The memory still visited Trevor like a perverse invader, not that he forced himself to warm to it, but it still made him sad to remember even after what seemed like an age.
Today he was just a bus driver, his shift was almost over, just one more trip...
At the bus stop, a man in a beanie with a grim face got on the bus, the doors closed, and he headed for his destination
The bus was practically empty — he was the driver and the ill-figured passenger.
The man couldn't disguise his evil intent and as soon as he got close to Trevor, he announced the robbery and demanded all his money.
He had barely moved and was already at rest when the bus came to an abrupt halt.
— Sorry, there's no money here, we only accept card payments — said Trevor with a wry smile, as he picked up a wad of cash and waved it in front of the criminal, as if challenging him.
The man in the cap became enraged, his eyes wide with rage. — What's wrong with this old man? — he thought. — Has he lost his sense of danger?
In a moment that didn't last a second, Trevor made a quick, imperceptible gesture. Suddenly, the bus's security camera seemed to have been deactivated, replacing the images with confused static and unintelligible sounds.
— What are you doing? Give me that money, old man! — shouted the man in the cap, pointing a revolver he had drawn from his belt, trying to intimidate Trevor.
But Trevor wasn't shaken. He just smiled, his gaze icy and defiant.
— Why should I? — Trevor asked, still smiling. — I told you, there's no money here.
And, with one swift movement, Trevor pulled out a crumpled wad of notes from his trouser pocket and threw them on the floor, as if he were throwing out garbage.
— What's more, you're robbing me with a toy gun? — sneered Trevor, looking at the revolver with disdain. — You're not very good at that, are you?
The man in the cap turned red with anger, feeling humiliated by Trevor's attitude. He hadn't expected the driver to react like that.
— Fake gun? How could he? I'll show you, old man! — shouted the man, his face red with anger, as he pulled the trigger.
But Trevor only laughed, a deep, ironic sound, as if he had been expecting exactly that reaction.
The gun made a dry, metallic sound, a "clack" that echoed in the silence of the bus. But nothing happened. No bullet came out of the gun, no sound of an explosion, just silence.
And then an awkward silence fell over the bus. The man in the cap stood paralyzed, his hand still holding the useless gun, while Trevor continued to laugh, his laughter echoing in the silence.
— I told you it's a toy, it won't hurt anyone," said Trevor, his wry smile still present on his face.
But the mugger didn't seem to hear. He kept pulling the trigger, again and again, producing a series of "clack" sounds that echoed in the bus.
With each click, Trevor laughed harder, his laughter growing into an infectious giggle.
— You're not going to give up, are you? — asked Trevor, still laughing. — Do you think you're going to get anything with that... gun?
The robber began to sweat, his face red with anger and frustration. He didn't understand what was happening. The gun he had used was real, he had even done several other robberies with it, but right now he was making a fool of himself.
"Let me see that thing," said the old driver with a quick movement, as if he were performing a magic trick.
Before the mugger could react, the gun in his hand disappeared and reappeared in the hand of the driver, Trevor. The mugger was stunned, not realizing how it had happened.
Trevor stopped laughing and looked at the gun, then at the robber, his gaze serious and penetrating.
"Do you want to see how a real gun works?" asked Trevor, his voice low and threatening.
The mugger felt a chill run down his spine. Something wasn't right. Trevor was no ordinary driver, and that a Ma... how had he done it?
"No," replied the assailant, his voice trembling with fear.
Trevor smiled, a sinister smile.
"I think you need to see it," he said, taking a small book out of a backpack that lay to the left of his seat.
Then, with a quick, precise movement, as if he were cocking a pistol, Trevor pointed the book he held in his hand at the bandit. The book, although small, was a thick, old volume with a leather cover and yellowed pages.
With a serious expression, Trevor made a "bang" sound with his mouth, as if he were firing a gun. The sound echoed off the bus, and for a moment, nothing seemed to happen.
But, as if reality had been altered, a huge hole appeared in the capped man's leg. Blood began to gush from the wound, and the man fell to the ground with eyes filled with tears of pain and shock.
The man in the cap looked at his leg in disbelief and then at Trevor, who was still holding the book as if it were a weapon. His eyes filled with tears, not just from fear, but from shame, as he had just released a yellow torrent down his pants.
Then, in an instant of pure disbelief, the space around the man in the cap seemed to distort, as if the laws of physics had been temporarily suspended. A huge, perfect hole appeared in the capped man's leg, as if an invisible force had pierced his flesh.
Blood began to gush from the wound, and the man fell to the ground with eyes filled with tears of pain and shock. His face contorted in agony as he stared at his leg in disbelief.
But it wasn't just pain that filled his eyes with tears. A deep and humiliating shame invaded him when he realized that he had lost control of his own body. A yellow stain began to spread on his pants, revealing his total decomposition.
— Please don't kill me, let me go," the man begged, dragging himself towards the bus door.
— Yes, of course, I believe in the potential of young people, one day you'll be a great robber -Trevor failed with a big smile on his face
The criminal didn't understand for a moment and then hurried to the door as soon as he got off the bus, Trevor threw the book at him and shouted, "I hope this gun helps you in your next robbery, good luck.
Out of reflex, the man grabbed the book and stared at it, but the next instant he felt a twinge in his forehead and everything went dark.
His body Fell limp to the ground
— what an idiot! Who holds a gun like that? Pointing it at his own head," grumbled Trevor, who was still watching the scene from the bus.
At home, Desmond woke up to a dripping sound coming from the bathroom next to his room, so he got up...
But there was Lupir, with his hind legs bent and his front body erect, peeing with impressive precision.
— What a special dog, very intelligent — Desmond smiled proudly — When he's finished, he continued, lying down again.
A few seconds later he heard the sound of:
Clink-flooosh
Good boy — he thought and his eyes
Soon closed with sleep.