“Hello, kind sir. Do you believe in the benevolent and omnipotent lord?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, my name is Jarren Brooks and I would love to tell you all about the glor-”
“Not interested, we’re atheists.” the man told Jarren before slamming the door right into his face.
Jarren stumbled and managed to recover without falling or dropping his book. He threw a weak smile at the closed door and replied helplessly.
“Dammit, I am too.”
He sighed and ran his hand through his long hair. How the hell did he get here? What did he do wrong to deserve this? He was told that he was one of the smartest children back then, a promising future awaited him.
Yet, it would seem that they lied to him, mere words to make him feel good. He could be considered average at best.
Clever people wouldn’t get into this situation after all. Fortunately for his mental state, he had an excuse. He would’ve gotten by somehow if it weren’t for the fucking accident.
Well, that didn’t matter anymore. Being stuck in the past wouldn’t help anything and Jarren needed all the help he could.
Counting on his fingers and looking around, he figured out that he had to go for 3 more houses before being able to go back to his apartment. This damned quota was going to give him permanent brain damage.
It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate it, of course. Not many people had a religious friend who would provide food and housing for something like spreading the glory of their lord.
Jarren gave his forehead a massage with the bible and walked to a neighboring house. He knocked on the dark wood with an iron handle and stepped back. The wait was quite menacing and so was the man that opened the door.
He had so many muscles that Jarren nearly started drooling at him. Stopping himself in time, he popped the question:
“H-hello, kind sir. Do you believe in the benevolent and omnipotent lord?”
“No, but do you believe in muscles?” The strongman hit a pose which greatly resembled that of a certain bizarre anime’s character's and flexed his arms.
“No, I mean yes, I mean- wait, that’s not what I came here for.”
“Haha, you're a funny kid. Here, have a protein bar and buy yourself something nice.” The macho guy proclaimed and closed the door on Jarren, leaving him flabbergasted with a bar and a bible in his hand.
“What the hell did just happen?" He muttered, pocketing the bar. "….You know what, I think I’ll end it right here.”
Jarren simply turned around and went straight home, the quota didn’t have to be finished today after all. It meant that he would have to do more later, but he wasn’t in the mood for praising something he didn’t believe in right now. Despite how stupid what had just happened was, it made him feel melancholic.
Would his father also greet him at the door and give him something to make his day better? Jarren knew that this thought was quite different from what happened, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed that he didn’t get over his parents’ death yet.
How could he, though?! A drunk driver paralyzed his father from the neck down, keeping him barely alive to make Jarren’s life even worse! Not only did he have to pay the bills, he also had to watch his father die day by day!
If only he had died instantly.
Jarren’s face crumpled into one of self-loathing and disgust after that thought. He didn’t really mean it. What would he not pay to speak to him just once more.
Conflicted and depressed, he returned home and lay on his bed. His apartment was small, barely a room. There was a bed under the window and he could see everything from it, constantly reminding him of the life he had.
But hey, at least there were some benefits to this. When he wanted to go and have a snack, it was a few steps away, just like the bathroom. Sitting on his toilet gave him a beautiful view of the room and he could even see from the window if he craned his neck.
Truly an epitome of practicality.
Jarren sighed, how long was he going to lie to himself? The coping mechanism of ignoring something, acting like it never happened, was very useful, yet harmful.
The phone in his pocket rang, tearing him away from these thoughts. He inputted the strongest password he could think of - 13245 and looked at the notification. It was from Nell, the friend who provided him with everything. His only friend.
[(ඞ) Nell: What’s up?] [(:3) Jarren: Just relaxing after chipping away at the quota. Wby?]
[(ඞ) Nell: Pretty ass ngl, you wanna meet up and chill together?]
[(:3) Jarren: Bet, at Casey’s?]
[(ඞ) Nell: Eeh, Sure.]
After reading the last message, Jarren sighed, regretfully lifting himself off the bed. He put away the bible that he threw on the floor and patted on his clothes in the hopes of removing wrinkles.
It didn’t work very well and there was no point to it anyway, so he just gave up and left his house. At the time he had no idea that this would be the first step in his journey to power.
…
Jarren left his home and started walking to his destination. The city he lived in was pretty big. Fortunately, Casey’s wasn’t that far and it would take a few minutes at most. Since there was nothing to do or think about, Jarren zoned out. He did that often and it was a great way to pass the time.
However, if he hadn’t done that, he would’ve noticed the alarming lack of people around him. Instead, he blindly walked into the café and sat down on the comfortable sofa. He looked around and took in the atmosphere.
The soft orange paint on the walls complemented the red sofas and bronze tables. Golden lights hung down from the olive green ceiling, giving guidance to the lost. In the middle of the ceiling was a brown fan, slowly rotating, hypnotizing. The final cherry on top was the brown, checkered floor and white blinds.
It was simply paradise.
Except for a small detail, the place was completely empty. The people who sat here, seemingly every second of each day were nowhere to be found. The staff wasn’t going around and serving coffee. Only silence remained.
“Uh, hello!?” Jarren shouted.
There was no answer, the rustling of the wind at most. It made Jarren very nervous and he slammed the door on his way out. His head turned to the left and right, spotting nobody. At this point, he was extremely scared.
Pulling his phone out, he tried calling the police. Before he could even type in the number, a voice appeared in his head.
[Come to me, Jarren.]
Crash.
Jarren’s phone dropped from his hand, shattering. Yet, he didn’t care. He didn’t question anything and aimed his body at where the voice came from. It asked him to come and he would listen.
Suddenly, a man ran to him, salivating and hitting Jarren out of the way.
“MINE” The man- no, beast shrieked and continued on his way, close to dropping on all fours.
Fortunately, the hit partly woke Jarren up and he realized in horror that his body wasn’t listening to him. The voice that sweetly filled his mind was gone, replaced by the drums of his beating heart.
With no other choice, his body ran as well. Ignoring all commands.
…
Eventually, the voice returned with more fervor and intensity, making Jarren run faster than what he thought was possible. Upon reaching his destination, a scene from hell unfolded before his very eyes.
Crimson blood flowed across the dirty ground, bodies lay around, broken and wretched. Many weapons either looked hungrily at Jarren from the corpses or from the ground. More people rushed in, joining the dead or making the dead.
Unlike Jarren, they seemed to have no control over their actions. The moment he got into the plaza where this battle occurred, he regained his body and tried to run away.
An invisible shackle pulled him back to the plaza and held him in the location. Leaving was not an option, but he could do anything he wanted in the area.
Immediately, he hid next to a pile of bodies. There was no point in getting himself killed over this. Yet, it wasn’t fated to be. Not having even enough time to shed a single tear, a man with an afro and blue clothes sprinted at him, swinging his tongue around.
If it wasn’t a matter of life and death, perhaps he would’ve found the situation quite funny.
His opponent didn’t leave him more time to think and jumped at Jarren, who responded by instinctively throwing himself out of the way. Mr. Afro had miscalculated and slammed to the ground, not expecting Jarren to dodge.
While being able to think was generally an advantage, it was also a disadvantage. Jarren froze and let the opportunity to get rid of his enemy slip.
Meanwhile his opponent ignored the damage and jumped again. Jarren didn’t manage to dodge this time and the man landed on him. This was the final straw and it finally made Jarren realize what he needed to do.
“I’M NOT GAY!” He roared heroically and kneed the afro in the stomach. The man bent over and fell from Jarren, recovering in a second and growling at him.
This time, Jarren was ready and he slammed a rock down, hitting Afro's skull and stunning him. Grabbing this chance, he continued hitting Afro until only a mush remained. It took a while to register in Jarren's mind.
“No, no, nonononononno.” Jarren’s pupils shrank and he crawled away from the body, hugging himself and sobbing.
“I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to kill you!” He cried out.
Nobody answered.
Jarren started convincing himself that it was self-defense, which it was. Then he got furious that someone dared to attack him, before going numb.
He shakily stood up. Nothing happened just now. Jarren just arrived here and he had no idea what was going on.
Looking up from the ground, he noticed that there were no more people fighting. Only he remained.
And the voice returned, bringing both despair and relief.
[Come to me, COME TO ME!] It screamed.
Jarren complied, mindlessly stepping on people and digging in the pile of corpses. Soon, a piece of armor as dark as night revealed itself. He was close! Kicking the body that was blocking the rest of the armor off, he stared at its beauty.
However, the armor wasn’t the most eye-catching item here. The 1st prize definitely went to the stone embedded in the chest piece. Everything paled in front of its elegance.
The rock had an entire galaxy trapped within, it glowed and spun around, attracting everything. Parts of the stone were pitch black, representing the coldness and death, the rest purple with white spots, signaling life. It was indescribable, perfect.
Jarren would be stuck watching it forever, if it wasn’t for the steps that resounded in the plaza. Full of horror that they would take it from him, he ripped the stone off the armor with inhuman strength and ran off.
“JARREN, YOU THERE? ARE YOU OKAY?!” A voice emerged, the source of the footsteps - Nell.
But, Jarren wasn’t okay, he gave a brief glance towards the plaza and disappeared behind a corner. The stone was his, only his.
It listened, rewarding its human with the beautiful sound of its voice.
“Vexi” The stone whispered.
On the verge of saying the word out loud, Jarren got stopped by a siren. It also woke him up from the reverie, from the stone's influence.
“Did I abandon Nell, my only friend, my savior?” He questioned himself, afraid of the answer. But he couldn’t go back now, it would be paramount to admitting guilt. Sorry Nell, I’ll explain it to you later.
Putting the stone in his pocket, he started sprinting away, towards his new life.
“PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!” A rude policeman yelled at Jarren.
They just would not leave him fucking alone. Full of anger, he reached out to his pocket and caressed the stone, a creepy smile forcing its way onto his face.
The police didn’t take that too well and many bangs resounded in the silence.
It was too late, Jarren saw the bullets slowly crawl through the air, he saw the minute changes of the terrified humans' expressions. The pure fear on their faces. He saw all that and responded with a single word.
“Vexi.”