It was a rainy day, Eizit walked around with steady steps, his toes hurt, practically unable to breath, gasping for air.
He had to keep running.
He had to keep going.
He couldn't look back.
He would die if he did.
No, he could just do one thing.
He could only run.
If he looked back, he would die, they would catch him, he knew it. He breathed heavily, trying to get some air, he coughed up aggresively, he was denied air, but why? by who? Was this how he was going to die?
Eizit kept on, took a right turn, then ran straight, took a left one, maneuvering through the dark alleys. His mind raced with thoughts, but he couldn't stop to address them, if he did, he'd slow down, and if he slowed down, he'd die. So he kept running. And running. And running.
...
"You can't escape from your own thoughts"
A voice ringed in his head. Eizit ignored it. He tried to convince himself. "I can escape from my thoughts" "I can escape from the ones following me", "I can", "I can", "I can", "I can!"
...
He couldn't.
The thoughts were unleashed.
"Why are the streets so empty?" "This is a big kingdom" "Why is no one here?" "Why did I risk my life?" "Why do the alleys never end?" "Why do I never reach an exit?" "Why am I playing the hero?"
The thoughts were too many, non-stopping, overwhelming, they clouded his mind. His rational thinking, gone.
"I slowed down" "I am done for" "I am dead" "They got me" "Why did I try?" "I can't escape" "I'm worth nothing" "It was worth nothing"
"SHUT UP"
The thoughts ended.
Abruptly.
...
Everything was now quiet. He slowed down. He stopped walking. "Maybe I don't need to run away..." He thought.
But he did.
Someone smashed something into a wall behind him, a loud thump produced.
Eizit looked back. It was a tall man, some sort of Berserker.
His eyes were menacing, with an aura that would scare the shit out of anyone that wasn't a giant.
Not only was he over 2 meters tall but his muscles made him as wide as a fucking wardrobe.
It was Eizit's reality check.
(Thump, Thump)
"Is that my own heartbeat?"
(Thump, thump)
"You should not have stopped running you little sneaky rat!" Said the Berserker.
(Thump, thump)
The thoughts came back (thump, thump) "Run you idiot!" (thump, thump) "Run you moron!" (thump, thump) "Stupid kid, run!' (thump, thump) "Dumbass kid, run!" (thump, thump) "Run if you don't want to die!" (thump, thump)
He ran away, fast, steadily, away from the man- No, he tried to, however, his legs didn't respond, he was exhausted, the adrenaline that kept him walking disappeared after the voices shut up earlier. Perhaps if he had kept them running on, he would be still running now.
(Thump, thump)
It didn't matter, the kid was done for, the Berserker's mace approached him, a wooden one with spikes on it, the spikes had blood, Eizit was not his first target of today, it was a gross scene.
(Thump, thump)
Eizit took a deep breath, and prepared himself for it, death had got to him... And he had nothing to do but accept it. The mace approached him, and approached him, and approached him, and then... it stopped.
(Thump, thu-)
Kidding!
(...)
It didn't, he was brutally hit by it, his skin ripping away, his body leaving a loud "thump" as it hit the ground.
(...)
Everything faded to black, time seemed to slow down. Memories rushed through his mind, and then they stopped in one specific memory.
He was going to die... However, his brain showed him that last memory, he grinned his teeth...
"How ironic..."
(...)
***
"If you had just 1 life remaining, and had to choose between saving another one's life at the risk of putting yours in danger or leaving that person behind and live a peaceful life, what would you do?"
Eizit laughed, for a couple seconds, before looking back at the old man, who was dragging his pant as he asked him the question.
The old man seemed to be a beggar; he had beige trousers that seemed to be old. A white shirt with cuts that seemed to have been made with a knife and burn marks that were probably the work of testing magic on him; he hadn't anything to protect him from the cold, and so he was shivering.
Eizit replied to him, not focusing on the face of the weird old man at first.
"Well, first off, I have 9 lives remaining, going down to 1 is highly unlikely to happen..." Eizit shrugged "However, hypothetically speaking, if it happened, I'd probably just move on..."
The old man let go of his pants, he laughed loudly.
It was then when Eizit focused more on the old man's face, he had barely any teeth remaining in his mouth, the few that survived to this day were yellow or half broken. His tongue screamed out that he probably was suffering of dehydration.
However, that was not the interesting part. The interesting part were his eyes, which Eizit noticed after the man stopped laughing.
The man's eyes were deep, like an endless void. They were caved into his face, however, despite their darkness and deepness, on the middle of them seemed to shine bright a light, a judging energy that survived up until this day.
This man was different, and Eizit could feel it, but he didn't want to address it. In the deepest part of his mind, however, he felt like that weird man knew Eizit way better than he, himself, did.
***
(THUMP, THUMP)
He wasn't dead, not yet. He was breathing, barely, but still breathing.
The Berserker was no longer there, he had left. A trace of Eizit's blood, which probably dripped down his mace, marked what direction the huge man went towards.
Eizit took a deep breath, then coughed, the injuries were painful, breathing hurt. He tried to stand up, but it also hurt. Everything hurt.
He looked around, the alley he once was on had changed, it seemed less darker than earlier. And... He could hear footsteps far away. Multiple ones, some rushing, some slow, some from horses, the sound of wheels as well.
It clicked, he had been in an illusion all along. The reason he didn't see anyone was because his senses were affected in order to avoid him from seeing them.
All the time he had been thinking he was running away from the Berserker he had been instead running right where he wanted him to be.
Maybe his thoughts didn't actually make him die, but to get closer to a street, and therefore maybe being found.
All he had to do was scream, ask for help, and if he did, they would find him.
He opened his mouth, he screamed for help, but words didn't come out... He couldn't speak, the pain was too much... He would die there, alone, despite being so close.
He clenched his fist, if he hadn't tried to save that one girl he would be alive now. Was the girl alright at least? If she was, that meant he would have died for a reason. That would mean that throwing away his first opportunity to live for someone else would at least have been useful.
"WHO CARES!?"
The voice rang in his head, it was the same that told him he couldn't escape from his own thoughts... It was himself, but a rational self.
"Who cares, you say...? You mean who cares about me, right? She probably has people that care about her more than anyone cares about me"
The words didn't come out, he was just thinking them, but the voice was himself, so it replied just fine.
"Okay, fine, then just drop dead"
He smiled, looked at the sky, the night sky, a star shined bright up there, he wondered if that was a good sign.
"Yeah, I'll just do... It was a good life, I don't know why I did it... But if I could choose to not do it, I would do it again."
The voice in his head sighed.
"The Hero Syndrome"
Then everything faded to black, for real this time, he was going to die.
However, he didn't care, the rush was gone... He felt free.
...
His heart stopped, he died.
...
Or did he?
(THUMP, THUMP)