As life slowly faded away from my body I feel the cold metallic touch of a gun's barrel on my chest.
A man was crouching down in front of me. In his hand was a plain white mask which covered the entire face, it had two arched slits for the eyes and a slit that formed a smile which reached ear to ear making the illusion of a permanent grin to whoever wore it.
The man pulled down the hammer of the revolver creating a weak clicking sound as he placed the white mask on his face.
At that moment when I saw the white mask on another person other than me I realized something.
"Neither you or anybody else is worthy of being the Jester..."
Before the man pulled the gun's trigger I was able to make a final grin. Pulling out the last card hidden in my sleve, The Fool, I suddenly felt something very hot from the depths of my stomach.
"Only I am fit to be the Joker of this world..."
The moment the man pulled the trigger it was already too late. I felt something in my stomach expand, the final failsafe I prepared in case that woman and her wolf god was right.
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*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
While being engulfed within the crimson flames of purgatory I stared back at the white mask which seemed to come to life in the hellfire reflecting the devilish grin on my face.
Don't make the devil wait, isn't that right teacher...
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= 0 = 0 = 0 = 0 = 0 =
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*Tung!* *Tung!*
The sound of metal banging againts metal reverberated within my ears awaking me from slumber.
Opening my eyes which were immediately subjected to very poor lighting I was able to make out two blurry figures of what I assumed were people.
People... people?
Once my eyes had adjusted to the lighting I squinted to make sure I saw the right thing. In front of me were two middle aged men both clad in iron armor from toe to neck with blades on their hips, one of the men carried a torch while the other banged at the metal bars in front of me.
Then as they seemed to reaalized I came to be one of the men opened their mouth, "hey it's finally your time don't keep the executioner waiting, it's not everyday we get to behead a prince."
'A prince?'
'Where they talking about me?'
'Aren't I a...?'
'...Clown?'
'No... a joker?'
'...who am I exactly?'
'Why are there knights in front of me?'
My head was fille with countless questions which just didn't add up no matter how much I tried to force myself to remember as phantoms of what seemed to be memories loomed inside my skull. Then suddenly like a flash of lighting, near unbearable pain struck my empty head, almost seemingly rebooting my mind for a split second.
'...Raymond Areindell the 5'th prince of the empire. He is me and yet he is not me. I have died and yet I am alive I am a prince and yet I am the jester.'
Memories filled my recently empty head, one of the life of a lazy, irresponsible, and irredeemable prince. The other broken fragments of a jester, a murderer, and a psychopath.