It hadn't worked the first time. But now, in the midst of this chaos, it shouldn't be difficult to escape by jumping out the window. Even if other chains caught me, I should be able to cut them before I was dragged back inside the building.

It wasn't a wrong judgment, but I didn't have the opportunity to put it into practice.

I immediately flew, but not backwards, but forwards. Towards the hand of Death, literally. I still couldn't see it, but I could feel it very clearly against my neck. Squeezing as if it was trying to break my neck.

I might be dead, I might not have lungs or need oxygen, but either way I felt like I was drowning right away.

If I didn't get free soon, I was going to go unconscious. Or die? Die, for real this time? I was the bait. It had come for me, but could it be to make sure I was dead?

Then...

“You're going to... Everything in its place... don't know what you're...”

Those weren't words. Not real words.

I was hearing them inside my own head. That thing was using its mind, not its throat, and it wasn't using a human language either. I could feel my brain shattering to pieces trying to understand the message being sent, to translate it into something I could understand.

Not a language that I could understand, but something that a creature as limited as a human being could understand.

My eyes were very hot and they weren't from tears, although I certainly felt like crying, because I had stopped here, because I had been given a chance just to crush it in front of my eyes, as usual.

It wasn't hard to imagine my eyes being crushed or melting.

By its mere presence.

Because of what it was doing to me. Yes, it was doing something to me that went beyond its hand on my neck, it was, it was, it was, it was....

As if some sort of defense mechanism had been activated in my brain, the thought stopped there, it didn't go any further, it shouldn't go any further.

“Playing.

“It's no game. It's my life... My life.” Despite everything, I managed to get those words out of the back of my throat.

They were more a plea than a last act of rebellion.

One couldn't rebel against death, right? And I'd been a fool to try, hadn't I?

None of that. Life was about at least trying.

I raised the spear and thrust it into its chest. I still couldn't see anything but the billowing cloak, but I heard enough. Flesh being torn, fluids seeping out. I had hurt it, even if I couldn't beat it or even get away from it.

Even though I had driven the spear halfway into it, this was a gesture tantamount to spitting in its face.

Petty, useless.

But... it felt good. Spitting in the fucking face of bastards who thought they owned you. It felt fucking good.

It didn't let go of me, but its grip loosened a little. Not from my attack, again, it was nothing more than a spit in the face, not even a scratch. Maybe it felt it.

What was about to happen.

As if this wasn't already complete chaos, Plague broke through the glass ceiling. She dropped like a black meteor in the middle of the room. The area of impact was instantly covered by cracks. The rain of glass from above didn't stop, but she didn't even blink.

Dozens of tentacles slid out from under her dress.

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Also from her head, which was split in two.

Ready to fight, to kill.

For the first time I was happy to see Plague.

She couldn't handle Death, no one could, but at least she should be able to help me escape and that was what I really needed. I had already wasted too much time in this place.

If I kept this up, I would end the second day the same as the first.

Empty-handed.

I only had a week. I had never been particularly attached to my life, mostly continuing to fight for my sister's sake, but now?

I didn't want to disappear. There was nothing scarier than that, well. Nothing.

“Why is one of those things here? As if we don't have enough!” shouted one of the henchmen, hysterical. Although at this point that was putting it mildly.

My right arm blinked. Yes, it blinked.

It disappeared for a moment and then returned. Death might have come for me, I might have been the perfect bait, but he hadn't come to rescue me, he had come to make me disappear. Or rest in peace, it didn't matter, it was the same thing.

Only I could save myself.

Death pounced on me. Literally.

Although not on purpose, the masked man's henchmen helped me, or at least one of the various traps they had previously prepared. The bluish energy beam was fired again. That wouldn't even tickle that monster either, but at least it got it away from me.

That wasn't the only thing it did, though. It also shattered the balcony and if he didn't kill one of his own, well, it would be a miracle.

Before my eyes, the floor creaked, splitting, and sank. The balcony would collapse to the ground.

Maybe the debris would shatter it and reach the next floor.

Panic made my heart beat even faster, but looking at it objectively this was nothing. I had been prepared to throw myself from a tenth floor, maybe less but not much less, and no matter the height it wouldn't kill me.

I had to focus and take advantage of the opportunity I had been given.

Spear in hand, I slit the throat of one of the many henchmen. Then I tried again. Open my mouth, devour his soul. If I was going to survive in this crazy world, I needed to get stronger, and there had to be a reason why something stole my soul. There had to be a reason Plague craved to devour my soul.

Souls had power, didn't they? It had to go further than just a spectral weapon.

I needed power... to save myself, to see my sister again. So I would kill whoever it took and devour this “dish” without leaving even the bones.

I was afraid of screwing up, of being incapable at the moment of truth, but it came to me as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That guy's soul came out of his mouth and traveled to mine.

And this time what formed wasn't a spear, but a sword. I had no idea how this shit worked, but at this point I was beyond asking questions. I could adapt to the madness, fit in with the patients at the mental institution. It's not like I was very right in the head, anyway.

“How is that possible?”

“Abomination...”

It took me a second to realize it, but apparently some people still have enough time on their hands to fixate on a ghost kid while he was eating instead of Death and the lady with the tentacles.

They should have other priorities.

Then I jumped off the balcony before it finished collapsing.

“Catch me! Catch me!”

Maybe I should have shouted that before I jumped. Right now, Plague was a little busy. Half a dozen guys had jumped her, well, not literally, they were keeping their distance and attacking via magic. But it was still annoying and maybe more.

So....

She didn't see me or didn't react in time. I was prepared for the pain, but unconsciously I must have done something because I simply passed through the floor, falling all the way down to the floor below without needing the debris to open a hole in the floor first.

“Well at least now I'm....” I didn't have time to say everything I planned because I didn't hit the floor first, but the chandelier.

I might have been a brat, but I knocked it off the ceiling easily with the force of the impact.

When I landed, I found myself without air in my lungs. Maybe it was just an illusion, the feeling of breathing, the need, now that I was dead. But I couldn't help it. I felt like I had my head under water.

The explosion of glass above me and around me had nothing to do with it, but it didn't help me feel any better either.

I took a deep breath.

I hadn't been hit by any glass. It wouldn't have meant anything, even so. But my chest ached as if it had really happened. Dozens of crystals, sliding in and out, in rhythm with my breathing.

“At least... I'm away from that monster. It's funny that now, after dying, is when I've learned what it really means to lead a bad life.”

God, everything hurt. My back, especially. Was that what it felt like to be old all the time? In that case, I was half thankful I never made it to old age. But only half.

I managed to get up in the end, pushing the glass aside with my hands. Maybe the balcony hadn't collapsed, or it had but the fall and the exploding glass had covered that sound.

In any case, the debris hadn't made a hole in the floor.

That is, in what was now the ceiling, for me.

From there descended the black cloak. Death itself. It floated down, at great speed, and landed smoothly in front of me. I took two steps back, keeping my eyes on it.

Now I was no longer far from Death. But I was far from Plague, my only ally. Great.

I should have expected it, really.

“Why do you want to... destroy me? I thought I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. That thing I talked to was one of your lackeys, wasn't it? Why this now?”

More steps back, cautious. I was a poor schmuck in a cage with a lion. There was a ninety-nine percent chance I'd end up torn to pieces, in other words. But still, I couldn't hold back. It was all so unfair.

This fate. And the silence.

“Answer me, damn you!”