It all started in a inconspicuous alleyway — the alleyway was between multiple old, unused, and abandoned buildings, with mossy bricks older than the people that were in-between of them.
The top of the alleyway had a brick arch, decorated with vines swinging on the bottom.
The floor of the alleyway was covered in history, that being the trash that people had left there which had accumulated over time into large piles.
The smell of the alleyway was earthy in nature, leaving the tinge of rotting leaves, and the scent of wet dirt that would pierce anyone's nose who entered.
That earthy smell of the alleyway didn't last for long. It was quickly overpowered by the dense and heavy smell of metal.
It came at once, then all together — it was certainly the smell of the dying person permeated throughout the alleyway.
The people who were once in the alleyway, were now a fleeting memory to the dying person, as they had ran off in panic; one of them slipping out a curse in fear.
Blood pooled the person which was felled, the smell of metal swimming throughout the alleyway.
Upon further inspection, one would think before blood drenched the person, the person was a boy who had dyed ruffled dark-yellow hair, a broad frame, and an originally white unbuttoned school uniform. Now the gaping hole in his chest left his clothes in a crimson mess.
On the verge of death, and his blood quickly exiting his body, he could only think in his solace.
"Is this how I will really die?"
Just as quickly as his blood leaked out of his body, his anger also seeped.
It seeped, it seeped, and once more it seeped; it was by no means quick, but fast. As if a bucket had leaked water coming through.
What seemed to be an eternity for the boy, was actually only a few moments, this quickly increasing anger.
"To these spineless cowards?!"
His body convulsed on the ground, yet his dying body was half of the reason for his convulsion.
His persistence, his heightened emotions led to his already fleeting mind being hardened.
"Those... Spineless bastardssss!"
The other half of his convulsion was simply to understand really. If any word was able to describe the reason why he convulsed so intensely, it was due to his pure wrath; on the verge of death his anger remained.
His increasing anger was a valiant struggle against his reality, which he no longer had anywhere to seek refuge in.
This anger was started from his defeat — His anger was directed towards the people who killed him, yet despite everything, his frustration was powerless.
The boy in his last moments was filled with fury, yet his spiteful emotions were hollow. It was as if he was throwing a pebble into a brick wall, expecting it to break, and despite everything, knowing that, he still threw those pebbles.
Even as his vision blurred, as his body grew weak, and his body gave way for immense pain. the lingering emotions stayed sharp in his mind.
His feelings, of anger, contempt, and loss.
"I..!"
The water had at last, emptied from the bucket.
"Don't want to die!"
Lingering thoughts that were no longer of anger, resilience, but a primal human emotion.
Fear.
The calm after the storm — a terrifying calm which seemed to instill deep fear inside the boy, he had no more energy to expend his anger. He was only left with the primal instinct of avoiding death, although it was too late.
His mind was flooded with too many questions too count, with this terrifying calm he could only understand what he had lost.
"Why did this have to happen to me? I'm just a typical delinquent! I've never done anything that deserving of death!"
"I don't want to die! Please! Give me another chance! This unfair world! Screw this world!"
The lines between after life and reality began to blur, the alleyway that was once old and mossy, left in a distorted red puddle in the boy's mind.
Deep red blood trailed the alleyway that once was a forgotten history anew.
"Death..."
Anyone could tell from a distance, that intense metallic smell, the one of a body that had been on death's door. Far stronger than before, stabbing anyone's nose with the blunt smell of the iron that hit them.
"I can't!"
A world half red and stone surrounded the boy, his head was turned to the side as his body was laying flat, lady death whispering him the melody of death.
His vision, focused on the red that covered his body, and the floor. The calmness and glare of lady death stared at the boy, and he consequently stared back, losing the strength to even fear, accepting his reality.
"You will die, Amon."
As terrifying he found the calmness, the increasing pain was doubly so. His brain had an acute type of pain, turning his thoughts into incoherence, and promptly leading him to fall unconscious.
Death's whisper had been completed — Amon had died.
◬◬◬
"Gahhh!"
A boy couldn't help but to scream in a pain that no longer existed, his unbuttoned linen shirt was rough yet still had its white tones.
He grabbed his chest as quickly as he could, tugging with immense strength on his shirt, with a intense glance towards his chest.
He slowly lifted his hand away, searching with intent as if he was looking for a hole, his face was furrowed, unable to explain this phenomenon.
The boy who was checking if he had a cavity in his body, was no other than Amon, yet two shadows began casting over the floor in front of Amon's hand.
A murmuring laughter came from a shadow that was a bit further away than the next,
"Kekeke..."
A voice that was closer to Amon which he heard more distinctly,
"Has this fucker gone insane?"
Fast winds followed the fist that hit Amon squarely in the chin whilst he was in his focused about being stabbed.
Amon was knocked down the ground landing on his elbow, realized the situation that unfolded in front of him once more.
He couldn't help but to whisper to himself as he was on the floor.
"Damnit! That pain was real."
While on the floor he looked for a moment, taking in all the information whilst giving deep exhale. He realized that he returned, and began to contemplate only for a moment.
"Is this all actually real? I mean, that hit felt really damn real. Might as well make use even if it is or not."
With his arm opposite to the shoulder that took the brunt of the fall, he began brought himself back up, using his hand to push himself up, until he could finally get a good look of the two people responsible for his death.
Uncomfortably, Amon bared witness to the same place where he died, the smell of earthy nature was the first thing he could smell.
Abandoned buildings layered with mossy bricks were the same before he died, a few vines swinging from an arch between two of the buildings in the alleyway.
The two figures in front of Amon were of similar age to him. One of them was a boy slightly taller than Amon with fully dyed spikey blonde hair, and black eyes. He had a condescending smirk, and was the one who had punched Amon.
Behind the blonde haired boy was the second figure, the one which was quite short, yet maintained a ferocious stare akin to a Pomeranian, with smooth jet-black hair that shared the same color as his eyes.
They both had school uniforms which had not resembled Amon's. One could tell immediately that this was the result of a rivalry between two school factions.
Once Amon had fully gotten up, he glared at them with a smile, yet his face was disgruntled while smiling, it hadn't looked like he was happy at all.
The anger that had once subsided returned once more, his vitality and life springing forth an immensely unsettling look.
Both of the boys in front Amon were shocked, as it was rare to ever see such a facial expression coming from a person they were disturbed, and unsettled. The condescending smile from the Blonde haired boy slightly cracked whilst they stood frozen.
Amon understanding that they were unsettled took his chance, dashing to the corner where the trash was, leaving them multiple feet away.
"Hey!"
"Where do you think your going!"
The smirk across Amon was straining the muscles in his mouth, as he couldn't help but to think internally,
"Right before I died, I'm sure I saw it!"
"The object that will lead me to my victory!"
Amon was digging in the piles, and by the time the two began slowing down after catching up with him. Turning around, Amon held a rusted pipe in his hand. His smile was waning but still existed sharply and creepily.
For the first time in a while, Amon spoke out loud and clearly to the two people that were in front of him, excitably putting both of his arms out brazenly.
"Don't scream after being beaten like a dog! Leave that for your entrance to hell!"
Both of the delinquents in front of Amon could immediately tell that he was absolutely insane. His delirious stare was burning with rage, a similar one that he faced near during his death.
The three boys who were in the alleyway knew they weren't giving up this fight. They couldn't. Due to reasons of pride, arrogance, and revenge.