It was a bright sunny day as Veni held his hands over his eyes while facing the blinding rays of sunlight.
Walking backwards he trips and falls over the gutter landing in a puddle of stagnant water from last nights rain. Moving his hand down he starts scratching his feathered beard while smacking his lips together as if to mimic eating, suddenly he sees a shadow walking over him.
Reaching out expectantly he says “ Spare change officer.”
“... Sir I am going to ask you to come with me.”
Blinking hard and deliberately Veni stares as menacingly into the police officers face as hard as he can before relenting. His eyes breaking first Veni lost instinctively at his little game without thinking, after catching himself he goes back to staring at the officer but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He lost.
“ Sir I am going to ask you to get up.” The police officer spoke with a level even tone and even seemed respectful or at least he wasn’t openly insulting. It made Veni feel a bit sick, moving his outstretched hand from the officer to the diner that just kicked him out he says in a sickly sweet voice.
“ Don’t worry officer I’m not high! I’m just trying to split my head open in front of this here establishment as a sort of one-star review for the other customers to see.” After he finished he tried to blink his eyelids in such a way to mimic flirtation.
“ Sir I don’t care, please just comply before I declare resisting arrest.” The police officer didn’t have even a change in expression or tone as he spoke but he did reach down to his side and flip off the little flap over his gun. It was a clear message he sent.
Veni reaches down then pulls a feather from his beard.
“ Ok.” He says like a child being sent to bed early.
The feathers came from pigeons he ate, he considered them trophies of war. His favourite feather was from a large back crow he grounded with a rock one day, it made him feel like a true hunter and put in him a vision of living off the land. The idea of total independence that the fantasy offered him was almost dreamy to him. He imagined his delusions to have been sent by heaven. However, his near-constant starvation was proof enough to him that it was exactly that, a delusion.
He treasured his feathers anyway as if they part of himself and refused to let go of them easily, eventually, they were all he felt he had left. This also impacted him, because it created the lie that only if he seriously tried to get back on his feet and leave the feather behind then he would in no time get a real job and start making a life for himself but was too scared to actually try because of this very reason.
The hope being false was far scarier then there being no hope at all. This was a strong part of who Veni was as a person.
Getting up he started crying when he remembered he placed his favourite feather in the collar of his buddy Jojo who was grabbed by a lunatic. He never saw the dog again, even when he went to the police they didn’t want to deal with him because he smelled bad. It wasn’t his fault, a shower wasn’t something you found in a trash can. He knew who took Jojo away from him, it was another “fellow of the streets” who saw that owning a dog increased peoples pity and therefore “Donations”.
Once he was back to his feet he decided to return to where he lost his dog, so he started to bolt away. The police officer honestly didn’t seem to care at least he didn’t try to stop Veni or give chase. Learning this Veni didn’t feel a need to run once he crossed the street, he kept walking towards where he last remembered the dog. It was dark at night when he was stolen, and Veni was in the place safest to him when sleeping, but even still he had awoken up midway through the robbery.
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On the way there he reached into his pockets and rubbed his legs, he wondered where the little pouch inside his pants pockets went. Eventually, he made his way through the outstrikes of the city towards a bridge that crossed a river, it was far enough away from anything that even he felt that no one would care enough to look under it and see him.
Once when he was younger he actually felt safe underneath tucked away out of sight.
He looked down at the river, “ I will dedicate my life to you JoJo!” He threw himself into the water holding himself under until the first tinge of pain, suddenly he started thrashing his limbs around underwater trying to distract his own mind from what he was doing but eventually he kicked off the ground and sprang up above the waters surface coughing and gasping for air. He couldn’t bring himself to do, he was too scared of the pain.
Laying down on his back he started crying again, “ I can’t even do this right! Why do I have to be so pathetic, I don’t want this anymore!” He grabbed at the skin on his face and started pulling but there wasn’t enough for him to do anything more than pinch himself. He wanted to rip his own flesh off and replace it. He stopped when he actually started to hurt.
Time passed and then eventually he sighed, “ If I want to kill myself I need to think of a method that won’t be painful or give me enough time to regret.”
He remained still listening to the sound of passing cars his legs still inside the cold water until suddenly he felt something was off. He felt it before he saw it, the water was wrong. The water level was tiled towards him like it was trying to reach up and grab him. It was clinging to his leg, suddenly he was screaming and trying to brush the water off but couldn’t. The sight brought into him the image of a wave in slow motion. He would splash the water down his leg only for it to defy gravity and run back up it.
Suddenly he saw the water take shape, it began to appear like a hand had wrapped itself around him and it started to twist as it slowly pulled him down. His strength was pointless.
Even jumping to his feet he found the water was connected to him, like a thick glue it kept to him and remained a line between him and the river, suddenly he noticed it was devouring him. Veni was scared at the moment but as time passed he gave himself to the water and was pulled downwards after all wasn’t this want he wanted most?
A death he could pin on others, one beyond his control so he wouldn’t regret. It would be even better if he could pin his death on the world at large, prove that the nature of things was the one that was wrong and not him. The pain he would feel drowning he told himself that he was deserving of it. That his pain made him a martyr. He felt nothing, his mind was washed empty after his head was pulled under.
And then he saw what he was meant to see. Terrible beautiful images of entropy all-consuming and the mind of a human twisted into something that could endure the end of time. He felt like his head would burst as thousands of years of total misery were forced into his skull through the memories of another. Another that laughed at the destruction of everything and said, good. Suddenly he was in control, how could he not be after all he had seen what was done to him and he waved the water away and the river parted.
Neither Veni nor the thing beyond was left, the psyche of both vanished, the original Veni was crushed while the last survivor left when his will was done. Only the prophet remained.
He saw that he was a prophet gifted by god to see the end of the world, because what could that creature be whose memories he had consumed but an unknowing god. Reaching over he bit into his thumb, he saw everything that would happen so he decided… to resist. This was a test, god had sent him to rebel against the future humanity had declared.
He would rebel even if it was pointless against the future. With his bleeding thumb, he scratched markings and spells made of blood into his mind. He inscribed the memories into his very soul so he would never forget them. He was already forming a plan, the old him had died twisted into something new. A divine sent warrior. A chosen hero. That’s who he was now, he would become anything he needed to be to save the world, he would become the greatest hero the world had ever know. At least, for now, he knew he alone had magic and knowledge no one else would. That gave him the power to make a difference.
His life was forever changed. He clearly saw what he had to do, “ I have to kill Lucious Salla, the false icon before it’s too late.”
In a single moment, he had experienced a thousand years of something else. You don’t age a thousand years and remain the same. He knew what would happen next and decided that he would change it he would resist and save the world from this terrible fate. He was the chosen hero who would save the world.
He failed.