*** THE OLD BRAIN ***

A Rope. A Knife. A Pill. In what manner should I end my tale? Amid this somber eve, a tormented soul roams, seeking to test the essence of humanity.

Through the shadows' haunting grasp, I tread cautiously through the night, bound for the realm renowned as Food and Stuff Hardware Store—its name a siren's call, beguiling and alluring. Yet, I wondered, would they grasp the sinister nature that lingers within this deceptive charade? Does mankind possess the acute discernment to perceive through this facade with a vigilant and unwavering gaze?

The government's eye, Oh! How it fixates on each transaction, those lump-sum buys, the very ingredients that fuel the dreaded alchemy of methamphetamine - a loathsome pursuit. Yet, it seems their concern is confined to these mere substances, overlooking the forsaken souls adrift, abandoned, and cast away in the shadows of society's disdain. Do they not care for us outcasts, the social rejects shunned by the righteous masses?

"Excuse me, kind Sir, assist me in my quest,

To purchase implements, the tools for my unrest.

A Rope, a Knife, a Pill, my mind is so unclear,

In what manner should I end my tale?"

How easily they acquiesce, no questions posed. They submit, never raising an eyebrow, never daring to inquire. My true intentions remain veiled; no prescription do they seek, unaware of the depths of my pursuit. We ascend the ladder of power, yearning for a greater force to lead us, a soul imbued with empathy, a heart unguarded and unfortified.

"Excuse me, Madam, sharpest blade I seek,

A Rope so tight, a Pill, my pain to peak.

In what manner should I end my tale?"

In frigid apathy, she lends her aid, no shred of hesitation in her gaze, no glimmer of surprise to hint at warmth or empathy's embrace. The intricate schemes I devise escape her notice entirely. As we approach the cashier, an opportunity for them to peer into my soul. Will they discern the shadows that lie deep within me?

"Excuse me, dear, permit me this small plea,

To purchase these tools, my end, they'll guarantee.

In what manner should I end my tale?"

Undaunted, they grant me passage, their apathy unyielding, towards the exit, my steps advance, no suspicion raised, concealing, a mastermind, a wicked scheme, within my heart elated. On the sidewalks, shadows writhe and cavort, a malevolent dance unfolds, and as I vanish into the dark abyss, this tale of darkness reaches its bitter end.

My mind harks back to that first malevolent act, at the tender age of sixteen, ensnared I was in ambition's grasp, the pursuit of success so keen. A dear friend once stood by me, forsaking all for my sake, rushing to my aid with unwavering support. For months, we conversed, and for years he postponed his own growth. Never again shall my actions entangle him in my wicked web.

I cannot help but ponder the fate of my kin, their lives shrouded in doubt. As the conclusion of my tale draws near, will it cast an ominous shadow about? I have amassed riches for them, enough to purchase a child, but will they recoil in disgust at my lifeless form, despising the memory of their own flesh and blood turned malefactor?

There, in the dimness of the night, two inebriated souls I see, their revelry in haze of booze and cocaine, a scene macabre to me. Their hulking forms could induce terror in any man. With utmost stealth, I execute my next maneuver, a calculated trip that sends one of them tumbling into the abyss of oblivion.

"Do you want to die?!"

"Yes, indeed." I replied.

"I will kill you!" The second said.

"In what manner should I end my tale?"

The dogs' bark echoed through the night, a chorus of disdain, yet lacking courage and spine to confront their fear held by a chain.

Alas! My footsteps reached my office's door, a familiar scent of paper in the air as if it knew this night's events would lead to my final destination: despair. With resignation in my heart, I took up the knife, its cold and ruthless blade ready to seal my fate. The rope found its place around my neck, a thread of destiny woven with a strange allure. My eyes lingered upon the pill, a tantalizing promise of humanity's quest to transcend mortality.

Then, a sudden disturbance, a knock three times, rapping the door with a knuckle. I glanced at the clock, its relentless hands unyielding, pointing stubbornly at 3 am.

"What do you need?"

"Boss? Do you want to eat some breakfast? I made coffee."

An intruder to my sanctum, disrupting the fragile solace that once enveloped me. This unwelcome presence, a cancer that bends everything to its will, shattering the delicate balance of my existence. In the face of such intrusion, I halted momentarily, granting myself one final meal, a somber feast before the impending slumber.

"Give me 13 minutes," I replied.

"I'll wait." The voice caressed through oak.

With utmost care, I tenderly arrange my dear friends inside a somber box, securing it with a combination of locks, safeguarding their peace in a trice. Donning a new suit, a facade of composure veils the grief that gnaws at my soul. I wash my face, attempting to cleanse the sorrow that stains my tear-stained cheeks.

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"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm the new intern here! You know, just earlier? You really are precise with time, huh? 13 minutes on the dot."

"I don't even care for you."

"Well, why should you?" She replied.

"What is it you need? You will not get a promotion by trying to befriend me."

"Oh, I know. I just made too much coffee, you see? I also ordered a little bit too much from UberEats."

"You are a witch, a seductress."

"Did you just compliment my face? That's sweet, you know. They said you are the harshest person, but you are a teddy bear, aren't you?"

"What are you blabbering about?"

"Nothing, boss, let's eat! Check out this coffee. It's good, I'll tell you. Banana Peanut Butter Caramel Latte."

"Are you jesting? Shouldn't you know I only drink black?"

"No, it's not a joke. Drink it before you judge."

"End my torment."

I discarded my blazer, a symbol of formality, and rolled up my sleeves, ready to indulge in the peculiar concoction before me. "Oh, may this truly be poison," I said cynically, hoping for a respite from the world's weight, even if only through a dark jest. A mere coffee, or so they claim, but the sight betrays it as a farcical brew, an amalgamation of bizarre flavors that elicits both fascination and disdain.

I took a sip, and a peculiar fusion unfolded, to my surprise. The richness of fat and protein intermingled with the gentle touch of cinnamon, an unexpected marriage of elements that dare not overpower each other. The essence of tropical fruit danced delicately on my palate, a refreshing surprise that tempers any overwhelming sensation.

Then, like a playful whisper, a hint of caramel graced my taste buds, delighting my senses and enticing me to explore this strange and intriguing concoction further. Oh, this is no ordinary coffee! It is a symphony of flavors, a curious dance of taste that sparks a symphony of sensations in my soul!

"It's good, right? Got it from Grandma."

"That is a claim up for debate."

"Hey, boss? What happened to your wrists?"

What is she prattling on about? I merely hovered the knife over my skin, a sinister contemplation lurking within. I cast my eyes upon my wrists, half-expecting nothing, for the blade I held lacked the resolve to breach my flesh. With cautious intent, I gingerly grazed my skin, ensuring no single strand of hair was disturbed nor the tiniest speck of skin left visibly altered.

"There are no knife marks here," I replied.

"Booyah! Got ya!"

"What?"

"Yeah! I felt like you were doing some funny business, you know?"

"How?"

"I just know."

Yet, whoever she may be, she cannot thwart my determined plan. The grand scheme shall unfold, and the world will soon witness its grim conclusion. I close my eyes, savoring the bittersweet affirmation — the final coffee that shall ever pass my lips.

"Do you think Bitcoin is a good investment?" She asked.

*** THE CORTEX ***

"What the fuck?! No! That's a moron's currency!"

"But, you see, I feel like it's a good bet, you know?"

"You feel?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you insane? How are you hired in this firm?!"

"I have my ways. I can convince our CEO, you know. I am a witch, after all."

"Oh God, no! I built this empire. How dare you destroy it all!"

"I also think black coffee is just dumb fuck, you know?"

"What?"

"Why is it so bitter and bland?"

"You don't know how to make coffee."

"Oh, I know how to make it. You just tasted my coffee."

"Then you are just a moron."

"You just complimented my coffee! You really are sweet, Boss Ethan."

"Enough. First, do not proceed with any Bitcoin purchase without me. Second, I will give you comprehensive instructions on brewing black coffee."

"Okay, boss! That's a promise! Oh wait, I really do have a favor to ask. Listen to this. I made a business process. The name is F.U.C.K. Then I taught it once in a lecture, and everyone made fun of me! They called me a joke!"

"First, what is with the Chaos? Are you perhaps an idiot? Second, wasn't that the point?"

"No! It's really, really good, you see. It's like the scientific method but just a lot easier to memorize."

"Let me read it."

"Okay!"

"It is catchy and compact."

"IKR."

"But it is unprofessional."

"Right? LMAO."

"It's a shame you got laughed at, really."

"If you preach it instead of me, everyone will listen. You just have this confidence in you, you know? They say you never take free stuff! So you have to pay for the coffee."

"What is the cost of this Banana peanut butter? I will gladly write you a check for a million dollars."

"Oh, I don't need that. I just want you to use and preach the F.U.C.K.".

"That's a tall order, but doable. What is your fucking name, lady intern?.

"V!" she replied.

I see. Shh, shh. Let me think for a microsecond; I'll enter the pattern... Got it. I see everything clearly now. There is a path. Trust me on this one. It aligns with the fractals. Do it.

*** THE FLESH ***

Yes! There may be a shark lurking in the shadows, sinister and morbid, capable of illuminating this voyage — across the dark vast sea of existence. An unquenchable thirst sailed within my chest, a plunge into the waters of the abyss. After all, our lives grant us but a fleeting warmth in the melancholic ballet of infinity.

I looked at her. She had eyes of a swirling storm of intrigue and uncertainty. "V," I said, breaking the stillness of the oceanic room.

"Will you marry me?"