A piece of paper falls onto the street, carried by the wind from not too far away. A man walking by notices the paper. Picking it up, he sees it is stained with blood. Unfolding it, he discovers a sheet of music—a melody that someone wrote and lost. He looks around, but no one is in sight, so he decides to leave it where he found it.
As he walks away, a vulture nearly flies into his face. Startled, he looks back and sees the vulture land on a nearby tree. He keeps walking but slowly decides to go back and investigate. Approaching the tree where the vulture landed, he sees a body hanging. He calmly assesses the situation and it is clear: the man has ended his own life.
He grabs the body from the tree and buries it. While digging, the vulture angrily attacks him, injuring his shoulder. He punches the bird with a rock, and it flies away. He finishes the burial and resumes his journey.
As he walks, he reads the melody—a sorrowful song crafted to bring out painful emotions. The composer started to write lyrics too but couldn’t finish them. It reads:
“Life is not worth living. It’s simple, really. Little gaining, many giving…”
As the man walks, the haunting melody echoes in his mind, a ghostly refrain that clings to him like the dust of the road. The sun dips low, casting long shadows that stretch and distort with the twilight. The world seems to grow dimmer, mirroring the somber tone of the song he’s now carrying with him.
He arrives at a small, forgotten town, its streets empty and silent, as if echoing the despair from the paper. He seeks refuge in a dilapidated café, its sign hanging loosely as if it too has given up. Inside, the atmosphere is thick with dust and abandonment. The man sits by a window, where the last rays of daylight filter through cracked glass.
He places the melody on the table and stares at it, the words seeping into his consciousness. The café’s quiet is interrupted only by the distant murmur of the wind, carrying whispers of lost hopes and fractured dreams. He wonders about the life of the composer, the world that drove him to such despair, and whether anyone else ever heard the melody’s mournful notes.
A flicker of movement catches his eye—a stray cat, gaunt and wary, wanders into the café. It approaches the man, rubbing against his leg as if seeking solace from the same bleakness that surrounds them. He reaches down, gently stroking its fur, finding a strange comfort in the simple connection.
As night falls, he decides to leave. The melody now feels like a burden he can’t escape. He steps back into the cool air, the sky a canvas of dark, oppressive clouds. The town’s few lights flicker like distant stars in a cold, indifferent universe.
He finds an old, run-down tavern, its days of glory long past. It is frequented only by the occasional traveler and desperate drunkard. He rents a room but, restless, finds that sleep eludes him. Deciding to take a walk, he stops to admire a view of the town from a high vantage point. Leaning on the railing, he struggles to think of how he might finish the song. “Little gaining, many giving…” Nothing comes to mind.
Lost in thought, he is startled when a man approaches and quietly leans on the railing next to him. After a few moments of silence, the stranger calmly asks:
“What are you thinking about?”
The man holding the paper is taken aback, as if jolted from a deep reverie. After a brief pause, he replies:
“A song. Just thinking about how he might have finished it. And how I might.”
The stranger extends a hand, seemingly requesting to see the paper. He whispers:
“My name is De.”
The man hands the paper to De, who examines it intently. Without looking at the stranger, he responds:
“Mine is Cav.”
Cav and De stand quietly, the melody still lingering between them. The distant hum of the town fills the silence. After a while, De speaks again, his voice calm, almost detached.
“This song... it’s full of sorrow,” De says, his fingers tracing the notes on the bloodstained paper. “It captures what most refuse to admit—that life is unfair, full of pain. People struggle, they suffer, and for what? In the end, there’s nothing. Just emptiness.”
Cav listens, nodding slightly, understanding the weight of those words. He too has seen the harshness of life, the injustices, and the relentless burden it places on people.
“I agree,” Cav finally responds. “Life can be unbearable. It’s cruel, and for many, it feels like it’s not worth the fight.”
De exhales, glancing up at the sky. “The world just takes, and takes. People get lost in it, break under the weight.”
Cav looks down at the melody. “Yeah. And they’re left holding nothing but the pain.”
For a moment, they’re aligned, two minds circling the same grim reality. De turns his gaze toward Cav, his voice soft but steady. “It’s strange how no one talks about it. Like admitting life is hard is a weakness.”
Cav shakes his head slowly. “People lie to themselves. They act like it’s all going to get better, but deep down, everyone knows how fragile it really is.”
De smiles faintly, something knowing in his eyes. “Exactly. We see it, don’t we? The truth, for what it really is.”
Cav glances at him, surprised by how much they seem to understand each other. The cold wind brushes past them, but neither moves. It feels like they’ve found a rare kind of connection, both aware of life’s brutal realities. The silence lingers, heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts, when suddenly, the sound of soft footsteps reaches their ears.
From the corner of their eyes, they see someone—a figure standing at the edge of the railing a little farther down. The person stands unnervingly close to the edge, staring out at the drop below. Cav and De exchange glances, the brief connection between them interrupted by the presence of this stranger.
Without thinking, they both approach.
The stranger, a young man, barely acknowledges them. His face is pale, his eyes hollow. There’s a tremor in his voice as he mutters, almost to himself, “There’s nothing left for me... I can’t do it anymore.”
Cav feels his heart sink, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He takes a step closer, carefully, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to do this. Whatever’s going on, it doesn’t have to end like this.”
De, standing just a few feet away, remains calm, his tone measured as he adds, “Sometimes, we reach a point where there’s no other way out. It takes strength to face that truth.”
Cav glances at De, surprised by his words but thinking he’s offering empathy. “Yeah... it’s hard. But you don’t have to face it alone.”
The young man hesitates, looking between Cav and De, confusion in his eyes. Cav steps closer, his voice soft but insistent. “Life can be cruel, I know. But that’s exactly why you can’t give up. There’s more to it than this moment. You might feel lost, but there’s still a chance to turn it around.”
De speaks next, his voice soothing, almost too calm. “Or maybe you’ve already given everything you can. Maybe it’s not about turning it around, but about finding peace. The kind of peace you’ve been denied.”
Cav stiffens, his brow furrowing. “Peace?” he repeats, his tone uneasy. “That’s not the kind of peace he needs.”
De looks at Cav, a faint smile playing on his lips, but his eyes are dark with understanding. “We both know how life is, Cav. Sometimes the only peace left is letting go.”
Cav’s eyes widen slightly, realization beginning to dawn on him. “Letting go... you don’t mean—”
De cuts him off, his voice firm but still gentle. “It’s not about giving up. It’s about accepting that life doesn’t always offer solutions. Sometimes, the courage is in knowing when to stop fighting.”
Cav turns to face De fully now, the connection they shared only moments ago shattering. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not courage. That’s defeat. He can still fight. He can still find a way to survive.”
De’s calm demeanor doesn’t waver, but his words grow sharper. “You think clinging to this miserable existence is strength? That’s the lie we’ve all been fed. You saw the truth earlier, didn’t you? Life doesn’t get better; it only drags you down.”
The young man watches them both, eyes wide with desperation, as the two men, once seemingly aligned, now stand on opposite sides of the spectrum. Cav steps toward him, desperation in his voice now. “Don’t listen to him. You still have a future—you can’t throw it away because of the pain you’re feeling now. There’s still something worth holding on to.”
De’s gaze remains fixed on the young man, his voice almost a whisper. “Or maybe it’s time to release yourself from that pain. You’ve carried it long enough.”
The tension between Cav and De sharpens, the divide between their philosophies finally revealed. Both speak as though they were aligned, but now, in the face of this moment, their truths collide head-on. The young man looks between them, torn, on the verge of a decision that will determine everything.
As the tension reaches a breaking point, the young man teeters closer to the edge, his hands trembling as he looks down into the abyss. Cav feels a surge of urgency flood his chest. Without warning, he lunges forward, grabbing the man by the arm and yanking him back from the precipice.
The man gasps in shock, stumbling backward, away from the railing. Cav grips his shoulders tightly, forcing him away from the edge as his heart pounds in his chest. “You’re not doing this,” Cav says, his voice shaking with intensity. “I won’t let you.”
De watches this unfold, his expression unreadable. He steps forward, his tone calm, almost condescending. “What are you doing, Cav? You’re only prolonging his suffering.”
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Cav spins to face him, still holding onto the young man, his eyes blazing with fury. “What are you talking about? I’m saving him.”
“Saving him?” De says, his voice low and cold. “You’re trapping him. Forcing him to endure more pain. He’s made his choice. You’re just too afraid to let him go.”
Cav’s grip tightens, his knuckles white as anger floods his body. “You think letting him die is mercy? That’s your solution? You call this cowardice, but it’s you who’s afraid to fight.”
De steps closer, his voice sharpening. “Fight for what, Cav? For him to suffer day after day with no end in sight? You’re the coward, clinging to a lie that life is worth living. He knows the truth. You just can’t face it.”
Cav releases the man and steps toward De, the air between them thick with tension. “I won’t let you talk him into giving up. You think you’re wise, but you’re blind. There’s always a way to fight back.”
De’s eyes narrow, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Fight back? Look around, Cav. There’s nothing left. You’re fighting for an empty cause.”
In an instant, Cav’s fist flies, catching De off guard. The punch lands hard against De’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. The young man, still in shock, watches as the two men collide, fists and rage flying. De recovers quickly and tackles Cav to the ground, the two of them grappling with equal force, neither gaining the upper hand.
The fight becomes raw, chaotic, as they exchange blows. Each hit is fueled by not just anger, but by the deep chasm between their beliefs. Cav throws a punch, and De ducks, landing a kick to Cav’s ribs. Cav retaliates, grabbing De by the collar and shoving him against the railing.
“You’re wrong,” Cav growls through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to decide when someone’s life isn’t worth saving.”
“And you don’t get to trap them in this hell,” De spits back, delivering a swift punch to Cav’s stomach, making him double over.
Suddenly, a loud noise cuts through the chaos—a single, sharp crack. The sound reverberates in the night air, silencing the fight instantly.
Both men freeze, their breath ragged, turning to see the empty space by the railing. The young man is gone.
The sound of his body hitting the ground far below echoes in the distance. Time seems to stop as they stare at the spot where he had stood, the realization hitting them like a hammer to the chest.
De wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth, his voice now cold and biting. “Look at what you’ve done.”
Cav’s eyes are wide, still processing the fall, the sound, the loss. He stumbles back, the weight of failure pressing down on him. “What I’ve done?”
De stands there, his face a mask of cold detachment, but underneath it, there’s a flicker of something darker. He takes a step closer, his voice low but steady, slicing through the night air.
“Yes, what you’ve done,” De hisses. “You pushed him. You gave him no choice but to jump. Instead of letting him face the end with peace, you forced him into a decision driven by panic and fear.”
Cav’s heart hammers in his chest, his face contorted with disbelief. “You’re blaming me for this?”
De’s voice remains eerily calm, but there’s a sharpness to it, a barely-contained fury. “You didn’t save him, Cav. You pushed him into an undesirable choice, where he leapt out of desperation—not peace. Now there’s a good chance he didn’t even die cleanly. He could be lying there, broken but alive, suffering. Is that what you wanted?”
Cav stumbles over his words, trying to defend himself. “No—no, I was trying to stop him. To save him.”
“To save him?” De’s voice rises, anger flaring now. “You forced him into terror, into doubt. You made him jump without the certainty he needed. You’ve made it worse for him, Cav. Now he could be down there, broken and still alive, in even more pain than before. Is that your idea of salvation?”
Cav freezes, the guilt wrapping itself around him like a vise. He hadn’t considered it—hadn’t thought that the jump might not have been enough. That the young man might be lying at the bottom, broken, bleeding, and still breathing, barely clinging to life in agony.
De, seeing the moment of hesitation in Cav’s eyes, suddenly makes his move. He turns on his heel and starts running toward the stairs leading down from the overlook. “I’ll end it,” De calls back over his shoulder. “I’ll end his suffering. It’s the only mercy left.”
Cav snaps out of his daze and rushes after him, his mind a chaotic whirl. “No! Stop!” he yells, his voice cracking with panic as he bolts after De, his legs pumping furiously as they race through the dark.
De’s footsteps pound ahead of him, fast and determined, a man on a mission. “He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, Cav!” De shouts, his voice filled with conviction. “If he’s still alive, he deserves a quick end, not more pain.”
Cav grits his teeth, heart thundering in his chest. “Don’t you dare! We don’t know if he’s even alive! You’re not deciding this!”
They tear down the winding stairs, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the hollow space. The air is cold and biting against Cav’s skin, but his mind is fixed on one thing: stopping De. He won’t let this end the way De wants it to.
The ground beneath them feels unstable as they reach the bottom, where the young man had fallen. The silence is eerie, heavy, as if the world is holding its breath. De is just a few steps ahead now, his figure silhouetted in the faint glow of the distant streetlights.
“There!” De points, and Cav’s heart plummets as he sees the crumpled body lying a short distance away, motionless on the ground.
De breaks into a sprint, his eyes fixed on the broken figure. “I’ll make it quick,” he mutters to himself, his pace quickening.
Cav pushes his legs harder, his breath burning in his throat, catching up to De as the reality of what’s happening crashes over him. Every fiber in his body screams at him to stop De, to stop this from turning into a cold execution.
“He’s not yours to save!” Cav yells as he finally catches up, grabbing De’s arm and wrenching him to a halt. The two men struggle, and for a moment, they both freeze—standing over the crumpled body of the man. His chest rises and falls shallowly, proof that he’s still alive, still clinging to something.
De’s eyes flicker with frustration. “He’s suffering, Cav. Let me finish it. Don’t you see what you’re doing?”
Cav holds his gaze, panting, struggling to find the words that don’t feel cliché or too obvious. “I’m stopping you from turning him into a casualty of your philosophy.”
De jerks his arm free. “This isn’t about philosophy, Cav. It’s mercy.”
“Mercy?” Cav’s voice rises, the desperation cracking in it. “You don’t know what comes after this. You don’t know if there’s any mercy waiting for him on the other side. What if it’s worse?”
De scoffs, his hands trembling as he looks down at the man, broken and bleeding. “Worse? You think this isn’t the worst? Look at him!”
Cav shakes his head, stepping between De and the man. “No. This is pain, yes—but pain ends. Life changes. We have no idea what waits beyond death. You’re gambling with his soul.”
De narrows his eyes, a coldness seeping into his voice. “You’re the one gambling. Keeping him here, making him endure more suffering. You’d rather watch him writhe in agony because you’re scared of what’s beyond?”
Cav doesn’t flinch. “Yes, I’m scared. You should be too. Death isn’t guaranteed to be the end of pain. You don’t know if this is the worst thing he’ll face. What if whatever comes next is worse than this? What if he wakes up in something we can’t even imagine?”
De steps forward, his tone clipped and sharp. “You think this is about you and your fear? You think it’s better to live in misery, in a hell you know, than to take a chance on an unknown end?”
Cav stands firm, his chest tight, heart pounding. “Yes. Pain... at least it’s familiar. It’s better than falling into nothing. Or worse—what if dying is just the start of something even more unbearable? Life may be cruel, but it’s life. We adapt. We endure. That’s what we do.”
Cav’s fists clench, trembling slightly. “It’s not fear. It’s knowing that this world changes. No matter how bad it gets, it’s unpredictable. That’s why I can’t let him go. This moment could pass. Maybe tomorrow something shifts. But if you end it now, he’ll never know. He’ll never have a chance to survive the storm.”
The wind howls around them, adding to the tension, making their words feel like a battle fought not just with fists, but with ideas that will change everything.
De, shaking with frustration, looks at the dying man, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re keeping him here to satisfy your need for control. You think you’re saving him, but you’re just condemning him to more suffering.”
Cav’s eyes darken, his voice thick with conviction. “No. I’m keeping him here because it’s better to face what we know than to be cast into something we can’t understand. I’m saving him from the unknown... from whatever fate would throw him into if we let him die now.”
Suddenly, the man on the ground stirs, groaning in agony. The sound pulls them both from their ideological struggle back into the present moment. De’s hand twitches, and Cav watches, tense, waiting to see what he’ll do.
The man groans, slowly coming to consciousness. De leans down, whispering in a soft voice, "It's okay... you don’t have to fight anymore." Cav, tense, counters gently, "There’s still time. It’s not over yet."
The man, clearly in pain, asks, "What should I do?"
Both Cav and De speak, their voices overlapping, as they try to convince the man to either hold on or let go.
Suddenly, an outsider appears—a drifter, leaning casually against a nearby post, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Funny how you both think it’s your place to decide," he says, voice dripping with cynicism. He watches with amusement. "What makes either of you right? People die every day. What’s one more?"
Cav and De are shaken by the sudden intrusion, unsure how to respond. The drifter shrugs. "I’ve seen people like him, like you. Doesn’t matter what you tell him. He’s already made up his mind."
As the drifter leans casually against the post, Cav and De are momentarily thrown off by his indifferent attitude. The man's pained groans are a stark reminder of the urgency of the situation, and their focus shifts back to him.
Just then, a group of passersby, alerted by the commotion, arrives at the scene. They quickly assess the situation and one of them dials a nearby police officer. The drifter’s previously detached demeanor shifts slightly. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly, his eyes darting to the approaching lights of the police vehicle.
The drifter’s mind races. He knows that his earlier nonchalance could be perceived as a lack of empathy, potentially causing trouble for him if the situation escalates further. Realizing that maintaining a neutral stance might backfire and damage his image, he decides to act.
He strides over to the fallen man, brushing off his cigarette with a flick of his wrist. His actions are swift and decisive. Kneeling beside the injured man, he takes a quick inventory of the situation, noting the extent of the man's injuries. With practiced efficiency, he begins administering basic first aid, applying pressure to wounds and stabilizing the man's position.
Cav and De watch in stunned silence as the drifter works. Their ideological conflict, once all-consuming, is momentarily overshadowed by the pragmatic intervention.
The drifter stands up, brushing off his hands. He exchanges a brief look with Cav and De, his expression now more serious, almost apologetic. "Sometimes," he says, "you have to act, whether you believe it's right or not. The world doesn't wait for philosophies to settle."
Without waiting for a response, the drifter turns and walks away. The distant sound of sirens grows louder as emergency services approach. Cav and De stand side by side, the weight of the moment pressing down on them, when a police officer arrives, clipboard in hand.
“Witnesses,” he says, scanning their faces. “What did you see?”
Cav steps forward, his tone calm. “We heard the commotion first. By the time we arrived, he was already on the ground.”
De nods, adding with a hint of casualness, “It all happened so quickly. Just a few moments before we got here, I think. Hard to tell exactly.”
The officer raises an eyebrow, sensing the ambiguity in their responses but not questioning it further. “And did you notice anyone else in the area?”
Cav shakes his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. “Not really. Just the usual late-night crowd. You know how it is.”
De leans back, a relaxed posture masking the tension beneath. “Yeah, people minding their own business. We didn’t catch anything unusual until we heard the noise.”
The officer scribbles down their answers, seemingly satisfied. “Alright. If you think of anything else, let us know.” He steps back, still eyeing them curiously before moving on.
As the officer leaves, paramedics arrive, carefully lifting the stabilized man onto a stretcher. Cav and De watch in silence as the man is loaded into the ambulance.
Once the ambulance drives away, Cav and De remain by the side of the road, the streetlights flickering in the cold night air. The drifter’s figure gradually fades into the distance.
The wind picks up, carrying the faint echo of the ambulance sirens and the quiet hum of the city. Cav and De stand in the same spot, alone in the night.
Without a word, De abruptly turns and begins to walk after the drifter, determination etched into his features. Cav watches him for a moment, a mix of concern and resignation in his eyes. As De's figure disappears into the night, Cav is left standing alone, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows around him.
The night settles back into its routine, the echoes of their earlier confrontation lingering in the air.