As he awoke he found himself inside a giant room. The room was filled with different types of torture devices. Realising that he didn't like being inside a torture room he opened the obviously misplaced door at the end of the room and walked though. At the other side of the door was something quite amazing. Halls and halls of endless doors unfolded beyond his eyes. Not caring at all he began his long adventure though the hall. 

>7 Years and 43 days later<

At the end of the hall he found himself standing in found of the Demon king. Yeap. Because why not. 

Demon king: "Why are you here?"

He didn't say anything back and kept walking. Soon the Demon Lord was quite a long distance away. 

Because why would a Demon Lord care for a normal human in his castle? Humans don't care about ants Ya know.

Suddenly he began to think. Think about the world.

Past time and past years are but a futile field of mercy i think. Atleast hells gates are but futile heavens in front of the normal ways of life we humans have to go though. But is it really mercy to not care about mercy at all? Is hell really hell without the thoughts that makes it hell?

What is a hell if not for a heaven of pain? Fire and Death is but one of the few plasures of life. 

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Without death we would be nothing. Logic is the only way to keep moving forward. Logic makes things easy. 

You don't have to mind human behavior if you base your thoughts on logic. That way you can say you understand what others might be saying. 

You'll no longer be alone. 

His thoughts ended.

Slowly rising from his old seat, walking, walking, walking, walking, walking, walking and walking.

Days years eons. Who cares how long he walked. He walked and that's all that matters.

What is a story but a way to tell a thought. 

But is it truly okay to tell a thought that might change a thought..?

If you change someone they might not be the ones you knew. Are you not scared they might change?

Insanity grew inside his mind. Years and Years. Just walking.

Until he came to a stop. A fleeting thought invaded his mind.

To win the game is to take the win from another. To make a thing is to take the possibility from another.

Am i wise or am i insane...?

Endless questions. Endless anwsers. And not a single one is correct. 

What is correct?

Correct...?

What is the meaning of correct?

Meaning of correct...?

Then he ended his life.

Then he awoke from the dark halls he had been walking.

He wasn't who. He was they.

Yes. That's the question. A question to a question.

?: "Hey Timmy wake up."

Timmy: "Okay mum"

And he went to school.