"I spoke to Him."

"I will be free."

Did John write this? Is this a diary or something?

Adrian flips through the pages. Black ink is randomly strewn about the pages. Adrian reaches the first passage.

"Apparently, writing things down helps clear your mind, and lord knows how much I need that. The voices have been getting worse every time I use it, and it's getting to a point that it's unbearable. It feels like death is breathing down my neck every time I use it, and I've been trying to do it less, but it's the only way I can get enough money for them. Once Jack gets into university, I won't have many financial worries. I just have to hold out till then." He was going mad due to using his power, it seems. Adrian flips to the next page, stained by ink.

"They are getting worse at an alarming rate. They don't even go away anymore; they only lessen with time. I have a constant pain throbbing in my head at all times. The pain isn't too bad, but it's certainly annoying. I'm afraid of what will happen once I go further. I feel I may lose my mind." They can become constant? Adrian moves to the next page.

"It's gotten worse. Much worse. The constant pain is now nearly unbearable; it feels like someone's repeatedly punching me in the head at all times. Stopping wouldn't even do anything at this point. I refuse to live like this. The next bullet that comes out of my gun may just be lodged in my skull." I get needing money, but why would you risk losing your mind for it? Just stop already. Adrian turns the page.

"I found a method to escape from the hell. Alcohol lessens the pain to a point where it's actually bearable. Being always drunk isn't ideal, but it's better than being in constant pain." That explains the constant drinking. Adrian flips the page.

"Even the fucking alcohol seems to barely work now. The voices refuse to leave; they just keep getting worse and worse. I can't keep living like this. What is the point of living a life of constant hell? So I won't. Tomorrow will be my last day in this fucking hellhole." For fuck's sake, why does he refuse to stop? Why would he let it get so bad? Any sane person would have stopped the second the pain became constant, but he refuses to. And for what? Money?

The next page has one word written on it over and over again: "Help." It seems like he's about to lose his mind fully. Adrian frantically turns the page.

"The voices overtook me. I put my gun to my head and pulled the trigger, but it didn't fire. Then the pain was gone. Something talked to me; it said that he helped me for now, but to be completely free of it, I need to do something for him. He said he will give me the details later. I'm going to accept. I'll do anything to be free." He tried to fucking kill himself? But an entity saved him and made a deal with him. What could an entity want with John?

Adrian reaches the final passage: "I spoke to Him. I will be free." This is the last message he left before I took over his body. Why didn't he specify the details? Thinking about it, the last thing he did was kill somebody. That was probably part of the deal. But John isn't free. He-- Adrian's eyes and mouth open wide.

He is free. I'm in his body instead, while he's dead. That is freedom. It twisted the definition of freedom and tricked John. And the entity has to be the same one that brought me here. Why couldn't John leave a single clue about the entity? Adrian balls up his fist in frustration.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Adrian lays down on his bed, lost in thought.

Why would an entity want to drag me here? And why have they not done a single thing to me after bringing me here? What could an entity that powerful even want with some random person like me? I certainly can't provide him any actual help. So what is it, entertainment? Whatever their intention is doesn't matter; what does matter is now I know how I can get back. I have to get stronger and find that bastard.

Adrian's vision blackens as he drifts away.

....

The morning passes as usual. He eats his porridge and gets on a carriage heading to the station.

Let's deliberate what I need to get to class 2. So far, the only time that I've gotten better was when I made that rose. But why was making that rose considered doing things my way but using it to solve crimes isn't? Why did I make that rose? To make the girl happy. So maybe that's it. My way is to use it to make other people happy. But that just doesn't feel right. Happiness seems to be a part of it, but it's more than that.

The carriage jolts Adrian back to the present.

He gets off and opens the door to the station. The warm smile of a girl greets him. "Good morning. Michael’s waiting for you in the lounge."

"Morning. Why is he always here? Does he not go home?" Adrian jokingly asks Mellisa.

"Sadly, he actually ends up sleeping here a lot of the time. I don't really know why, but he does it," Mellisa responds.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Adrian says as he ascends the stairway.

"Oy, I'm here because I spent the entirety of last night patrolling Briasfield, you dick," Michael stands atop the stairs.

"How did it go?"

"Like dogshit. I found nothing. This butcher fucker seems to be somewhat careful of us. Maybe you'll have better luck with it tonight. Also, Captain wants to see you. Don't keep him waiting."

Adrian slowly steps towards the office door. He takes a deep breath before knocking twice on the hard wood.

"Come in." A commanding voice sounds out from behind the door.

Adrian steps into the room.

"Michael told me of your performance. You seem to be adjusting pretty well to this department. I commend you." The captain stands up from his chair and reaches towards the coat rack sitting in the back of his office. He grabs a vest, coat, and tie and puts them towards Adrian.

Adrian extends his hand and grabs them. "Those are the suits provided to PRF officers. They're enhanced with spirit energy, making them a decent defense against damage. While they won’t be stopping a bullet, they can reduce the impact. Go put them on." The captain nods towards the door.

As Adrian turns towards the door, the captain says, "Wait." Adrian turns back to an object gliding towards him. He catches it.

"Congratulations on becoming an official PRF officer. That is your badge; do not show it to non-PRF personnel. Always be careful on the job. I don't want another dead member."

"Thanks, sir." Adrian leaves the office. He takes off his ragged vest and takes a closer look at his new clothes. It's a red tie, black vest, and a blue coat. The fabric feels soft and almost weightless. Adrian feels spirit energy pulsating throughout, enchanting the clothes. He puts them on and moves around.

Didn't expect them to be so comfortable. It feels like I'm wearing pajamas. Whoever made this did some magic on it.

"Congrats on becoming an actual officer," Michael says from across the room.

"Thanks. What work do we have?"

"We don't have anything urgent. And I am way too tired to go anywhere. I need to sleep for a bit. You go do your training; I'll be up in an hour."

"Sure, I guess," Adrian descends the stairway.

...

Finishing his training, Adrian wakes Michael up from his deep slumber.

"I did it. Let's get to work, shall we?"

"Sure. We first have to check up on a retired PRF officer. He's reported hearing voices these past few days. Someone has to check up daily on him, and today is our turn."

Michael stretches his arms out before grabbing his bat and descending the stairway, Adrian following suit.

They get onto the carriage. "Alderwick Row," Michael says to the carriage driver.

"This isn't dangerous, is it?"

"Probably not. We're just checking up on an old man, but don't let your guard down. Anything could happen when dealing with Revenants."