"You are only creative in disappointing those around you..."

Letting go of one's life is a decision done when the heart departs the human equation. For a boy in the wake of his life to pull the trigger on himself means that the world is mercilessly expelling those who it does not welcome. However, for Bret, is there any salvation or just an extended punishment for an act he had plotted since society gave him his resignation letter?

Bret lied in a pool of his blood. Bits of his brain lying underneath him, Carlos frozen in the distance with his eyes wide opened, and Bret's eyes emptier than his heart.

"Boy, oh boy. What a surprise that was. Better than a Hollywood movie." The silhouette begun to move around the walls of the alley, inspecting the scene sarcastically while Carlos stood in his place, but not because of fear, it was because time had stopped once again.

"I'm always impressed by you, people. How good you are in managing new ways to surprise those around you in the most mortifying way." The silhouette sighed, this time, exiting the walls.

Bret's eyes twitched and his nose sniffed the gushing smell of iron beneath him. He refused to move, believing that the reaper might be late to pick him up. There was no chance he was alive. His heart beats were absent, and his breath was not audible.

"Get up, loser. I have restored some of your senses. We need to talk first." The silhouette said, Bret felt an unimaginable sense of fear terrorize whatever was left in his brain. He was afraid to get up, but the silhouette's tone became menacing and degrading, he knew he stood on the gates of hell with the heaviest sin on his back.

"Why am I not d-dead?" Bret cried, getting on his feet as blood gushed from his bullet wound.

"You are dead." The dark void spoke, and Bret gasped at the sight of this strange figure.

"This is hell, right? You-you are satan?" Bret asked as he looked at the silhouette and inspected it in visible fear.

"What makes you think so? I could be an angel too, or..I could be something else." The silhouette spoke, standing in his place, but as Bret's eyes looked behind him, there was nothing to see. No protest, no street. Just a dark infinite void.

Bret finally stood up, "You can't be-No, no, is it ..God?" Bret gulped, and the silhouette laughed loudly mocking Bret's assumptions.

"You think god, well, if he's there of course. Would take a step down off his throne to speak to you..Bret?" He laughed once more; Bret sunk into his place as the gory scene of his suicide unfolded. The blood dripping from his brain and the remains of what was ejected out of his head underneath him made painted a scene from a video game. "I actually did it..I-I wasn't scared.." Bret said, feeling some sort of a triumph for pulling that trigger.

"That's why we're talking now."

"Because I killed myself?"

"You killed both of us."

"Us?"

"Yes, us."

"How are we related? And where's that place anyway?!"

"You are not allowed to know, and can you shut up for a second and let me speak?"

Bret looked down in despair, the worst of thoughts rushed through his scattered brain. He was awaiting the trial's end, and an answer from what he thought was a demon in front of him.

Intentions.

"You failed the exam horribly, Bret. 3/10? How did you even do it?" The silhouette morphed into black smoke, swaying around Bret who froze on his place with signs of anger decorating his rather unpleasant face.

"Why are you mentioning this? It is over. Its not meant for me to join them." Bret said angrily.

The man morphed into a bug and landed right on Bret's shoulder. "What if I told you that you didn't fail the exam?" He whispered; Bret crossed his eyebrows. "I don't think this is funny." He muttered.

"I think it is actually." The bug said, "You see, that smug kid called Niles made his parents bribe the evaluation board to make you fail." It said, laughing underneath his breath.

"I don't believe you." Bret said, "You think you need me to prove anything to you when I am the one who has your life in my hands? How arrogant can you be?" The bug morphed into a silhouette of a man again, facing Bret so close that this lifeless corpse shivered.

"They tricked you into believing that you have The Loser syndrome, Bret!" The man said, incredibly close to Bret's face who felt a sudden rush of coldness take ahold of him. His eyes were widened, he felt guilty yet joyful. He felt the disgrace depart his dead brain, and as he almost smiled, the man talked again.

"Fine, I took it so far. I lied." He said, and Bret felt his soul leave his body once again.

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"Fuck you." Bret said, getting closer to the silhouette while clenching his grip.

"Did I make you angry? What will you do? Blow your head again?" The silhouette spoke in a demeaning tone.

"This was never funny to be made fun of, do you know how it is like to wake up everyday ready to be humiliated till your bones give up on you?!" Suddenly, Bret shouted angrily. The storm inside him was unleashed and he was incredibly furious.

"Oh, pitiful. I could have shed tears if I could." The man mercilessly mocked Bret again.

"Just finish me off already! My brain is dripping on my shoulders!" Bret cried out loud.

"Yeah, we really are wasting time." The man said. "My intentions are good, Bret. I have an offer to make." The man said.

"What offer?" Bret asked, feeling hopeful. Although he pulled the trigger in a heartbeat, deep in his heart he wanted to go back just for a day.

"I will give you your life back, and not as a loser. In exchange for that, you will be my human agent." The man spoke confidently.

"Your….human agent?" Bret inquired, feeling even more hopeful.

"Yes. I, Negrand, will grant you my powers to cheat your way across the second evaluation exam. You will not know what power I have given you, but you will find out soon."

"Alright...Negrand...In exchange of what?"

"Fifty elite's heads in two years. Finish them up."

"What?! What the hell?!" Bret cried, "That's impossible, I can't kill people! Especially...them!" He said, hoping to negotiate.

"For someone who just killed themselves, you are surprisingly attached to life." The man, now known as Negrand, challenged Bret's intentions.

"Fuck it then, just finish me off. I can't do it!!" Bret cried, throwing his last chance at salvation away.

"I forgot to tell you something. I have lied again." Negrand said, "I can only rewind back time, and once it's stopped, it can only go forward by a deal."

Bret fell down and leaned against the wall, holding whatever was left of his head in his palms. "So, I don't really have a choice?" Bret sobbed like a child.

"Yes, kid. On a brighter tone. Once this contract is signed, I'll be your companion until the period ends." Negrand said, kneeling beside Bret.

"This doesn't make it any better, you know?!" Bret looked at him in bleak hopelessness as Negrand showed him a piece of paper.

"Bret, you do have the loser syndrome or whatever they call it, however, if I join you, it's curable." Negrand said in a softer tone.

"Fifty heads in two years, this is a lot?!" Bret asked, Negrand nodded in agreement.

"Why?"

"Personal reasons."

"Even kids?"

"I'd rather not answer that."

"Do you just want to overthrow the government?" Bret asked.

"Well, getting brighter, are we?"

"Why do you need their heads?"

"Decoration."

"This is fucked up!"

"I don't need to justify anything. We all have our fetishes"

"Holy shit, I get to cut those assholes head clean off for a fetish?"

"Do you think they deserve a better reason to be beheaded?"

"No, in fact, your offer is starting to be appealing. But, I don't think I can get away with it."

"I told you I will be with you in every step, you will have powers a loser like you shouldn't be allowed to have."

Negrand took out his contract, presented the fancy piece of paper to Bret who looked convinced yet terrified. "Sign it, its your ticket to prove something." Negrand said, "Something...?" Bret inquired, "Yes, wouldn't you like to prove to this world that you're good at something?" Negrand replied, "Cutting people's head off, huh?" Bret said, reading the contract. "Yes, the art of slaying is indeed magnificent, and if you master it, imagine their surprise. You will prove to them that you're good at something they prohibit." Negrand lured Bret into signing the contract.

Bret picked up the pen, gulped and let a tear out. "A murderer hired by death himself, a hero for the losers, a terrorizer for the elites. Isn't it satisfying? I present this as a challenge to yourself, you kill the bad seed rotting inside you and become a twisted hero painted by the blood of those who wronged you. What a beautiful way to go." Negrand persuaded Bret.

"What happens after the second-year ends?" Bret asked.

"You die."

"Huh?! That's unfair!"

"You are truly a piece of work, Bret. Sign it! We are running out of time!"

"What if I didn't want to die after these two years? And what if I fail?"

"For the first question, you still die. As for the second question, there's no room for failure. Can you let go of your own loser persona now?!"

"Fine."

Bret sighed, for the first time in five years, he felt that there was something ahead of him, a goal. A boy too weak to punch a bully back is now challenged to behead a fifty people in two years.

"The world kicks you out and you come back with a sword. That is how it works, life is unkind, and bloodshed is imminent. Would you refuse that contract, you will be lost in this void for eternity, and would you accept it, you will change your destiny that carved in stone. Its your choice."

Bret hesitated, but eventually, his grip on the pen grew tighter and at the end of the page, he starred for seconds before he signed his full name.

Negrand extended his hand to shake Bret's. Negrand's features were finally revealed as Bret shook his hand.

"I have just made a deal with the biggest loser in the world." Negrand smirked, and Bret fell to the abyss.