Hello everyone, it's the Wannabe Author again. I know, I know, this is really, really late, and I'm really sorry about that. See, what happened was I had exam all last week. I know, I know, I can hear your collective sigh of sympathy. So yeah, that was fun (not really tho). On the plus side, I passed three of them spectacularly, and am currently waiting for the results of the fourth *crosses fingers and prays at the same time*. That, and I had work over the weekend, and my computer decided to be a big ol' dumb the past two days, completely giving out on me. But I suppose excuses are nothing but excuses, and I'd once again like to apologize for it taking so long. Hopefully now that summer vacation is here - thank God - I'll have a bit more free time to write, so the maximum time between chapters will be about a week. Unless I become unmotivated, which is what typically happens, but seeing the positive comments on this really kept me going. Special thanks to the guy (sorry, can't remember your name off of the top of my head) who pointed out the flaws of my writing style the last chapter. I'll try and make sure it doesn't happen in the future, although it may have leaked in a little here. Oh yeah, I'm also currently writing a second book on Royal Road, it's called Coded, so give that a look. I won't say which one is better, as it's a matter of taste, but I will admit that I like writing this book more than that one. Ah well, fantasy really is just more of my style instead of sci-fi. Anyway, without further ado, I'll stop complaining/talking/typing and let you read. 

Thanks again,

The Wannabe Author

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I sighed and leaned back in my chair, the bright colors of the game in front of me pulsing in the darkness of my room. A single word dominated the monitor as everything else faded to black, the design intricate and bold, as if it had some sort of meaning other than to boost my ego.

Victory!

I had been playing a simple strategy game, something rather easy to dominate in once you learned basic human patterns of attack and defense. I was now in the after-game lobby, where my team could converse and comment as they liked. As I stared dispassionately at my character dancing on screen to celebrate the victory, there was a discussion raging around in the comment box.

GG everyone, this was my first game so I’m sorry for feeding

Whatever man, it’s cool, I remember those days haha

I wud’v dun better if my team didn’t suck smh

Bruh, you had just as many deaths as the feeder, stfu

Yeh, but that’s cuz the jung didn’t do his job prop and our tnk didn’t build right

Thnks for the game, sorry you had to carry me guys

NP. But still, props to our hunter. He completely carried the team :P

Yeh. I’m a smurf, but even I couldn’t do anything. I thnk that the other team was a pro team.

Yeh. Oh Wait, Looks Like The Hunter’s Still Here. Hey Man, Would You Add Me To Your Friends? :D

And so on and so forth. I watched as comment after comment flashed through the box, adding slowly to build up into a long scroll. The game mode I had played was a special Match of The Week, a 10 vs 10 that typically erupted into a chaotic battle of killing and defending, with no real strategy other then survive. In this mode the respawn was three times longer than usual, and you were penalized a thousand gold for dying. However, the rewards you got for killing an enemy were enormous. The rewards and penalties for winning and losing was similar as well. If you won, you were automatically increased in rank, and if you were already at the rank limit then you got an extra thousand points to do whatever you wished with. However, if you lost you were demoted a rank, and weren’t allowed to play the game mode for the rest of the day. While the rules were harsh, it was really fun and addicting, so people played it anyways. Needless to say though, the comments became rather venomous if the team lost.

I clicked out of the lobby, and I was returned to the home screen, a simple layout that had an array of options to choose from, a few of which being the Character Unlocking option in which you could purchase new characters to play after grinding out game after game or, the more common route, you simply paid money to unlock, and another being the Game Mode Select.

I had lingered here for less then a minute before I was flooded with friend requests, both from my team and the enemy. I had earned myself quite the reputation within the game, easily scoring victories and bringing back my team from the brink of defeat and leading it to victory. Of course, it wasn’t through any remarkable leadership or flashes of inspiration; it was more along the lines of “I killed so many members of the enemy team so fast that it was really impossible for us to lose”. I read a few of the request messages, no shortage of them claiming to be from a pro team and inviting me to their faction, or asking me to help them in the upcoming tournament with a grand prize of 500K dollars. And then I systematically refused all of them.

I exited the game screen, returning me back to my normal desktop background of rolling hills and blue skies. I was saw no purpose in changing the wallpaper, as it affected my experience in no way, so I left it as is. I stretched, hearing my spine pop and crack as it came out of its stooped position, and took off my glasses, rubbing my eyes to stimulate them into producing some moisture. I looked at the time. It was almost 11:00 P.M on thursday, the day after the incident of school.

The students of my classroom had all been told to remain home until next week, so as to allow everyone to cool down and for no further “incidents” to occur. After all, Adam still had a lot of friends who might not have liked his wrist being broken despite his being exposed for what he had one, so it was just a precaution. It may have also been a naive attempt to stop the information of what Adam had done from being spread, as if the students didn’t have phones or social media of any sort.

I sniffed my arm-pits, noted the less-then-pleasant smell that was coming out of my pores, and decided to take a shower. It wasn’t as though anyone was around to care. I lived on my own, and I most certainly didn’t have a significant other who would care about my odor. I just disdained feeling unclean.

I stepped out of the shower and onto the soft carpet next to the it, toweling my hair and body roughly before putting on some casual clothes. The bathroom was large, with a huge bathtub that most of the time never got used and a decorative ornate sink that looked rather nice, as well as one of those high-tech toilets that had too many settings to bother with. The floor was also a smooth white, although the stone it was made from I didn’t know, and next to the bathtub and shower was carpet that seemed to exude wealth. I was just about to walk out before I saw my reflection out of the corner of my eye. On a whim, I decided to study myself once again.

The ventilation was excellent, so the huge body mirror never got foggy, allowing me a clear view of myself. I was, in a single word, ugly.

My eyes were a little sunken, the color an unpleasant shade of brown that may have held some form of emotion, although if they did it was hidden behind cold indifference. Under them were large, dark bags that never seemed to go away, despite how much sleep I got. My nose was sharp and crooked, just a little too long to have been considered proper, and my cheeks were extremely shallow, as if the skin was stretched tight to meet my high cheekbones. My lips were small and thin, and they held no smile to them at all, only a straight line of impassiveness. My body was small and frail, just peaking at 5 feet and weighing no more then 90 pounds. My limbs were gangly, more like sticks then arms and legs. My hands were small and my fingers extremely slender, as were my toes. Due to my size, I looked almost like a child, no older then 12. It was no wonder that people chose to ignore me. I was the dismissive type of ugly, the kind you might stare at for a few moments, wrinkle your nose, then turn away, completely blocking me from your memory. Of course, that was if you were extremely expressive. The more polite people would just ignore my existence altogether, pretending not to have noticed me in the first place. The only thing I could hold any semblance of pride in was my hair and my skin. The former was a rich brown, flowing down to my shoulders in waves that seemed more feminine than masculine, but it wasn’t as if people would care. It was soft and dandruff free. My skin had a natural tan to it, and probably would’ve been much darker if I went outside for any length of time. It was clear, devoid of any blemishes or marks of acne. But other then that… I wasn’t going to be winning any favors with my looks.

My nose wrinkled slightly in disgust of myself, and I turned away, fighting down my discontent with my appearance. I left the bathroom, surveying my apartment.

It was nice. Although it may have been small, the detail, design, and furniture were all top notch: all modeled after I had moved in of course. I walked over to the kitchen, enjoying the crisp, cool air of the apartment as I did so, and opened the fridge.

It was barren. There was nothing in there except for an almost depleted gallon of milk, a few half empty soda bottles, and a few lonely tomatoes that sat neglected at the back, just a little too overripe to look aesthetically pleasing. I sighed, shutting the fridge door with a soft rattle. Guess I would have to go shopping if I wanted to eat dinner.

I grabbed a few loose bills, only intending to pick up a few things until the next day when I could actually go to the local Food Lion instead of just heading to the local convenience store. I slipped on a pair of worn out running shoes, although it was more from age rather then use, and opened the door. An elderly lady was in the hallway, shuffling along to her apartment with a purse in her hand. She reeked of smoke, and in her hand I could see a tight wad of money and a few BINGO sheets. She gave me a kindly smile when she noticed me looking, and I nodded to her, walking past and ambling down the stairs. The apartment building itself wasn’t overly illustrious, as my own area was, but it wasn’t particularly bad either. Adequate was the only way to describe it. The neighbours weren’t the friendliest of sorts, but they would smile as you passed them down the hall or help you carry your bags to your door if you were struggling. I had chosen it because, like everything else I strived for, it blended in.

At the base of the stairs was a small reception lobby, with nice couches and a little flat screen hanging on the wall. With the electric candles that illuminated the room, it looked warm, welcoming, and entirely pleasing to the eye. There was a twenty something young lady behind a counter next to the stairs, and she smiled as I passed her. Afterwards she turned to deal with a young couple on the other side that was most likely looking to purchase one of the rooms of the apartment. I had made it to the large double glass doors when my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. I wasn’t surprised in the least by it, and in fact had been dreading the moment. But I knew I couldn’t put it off. That wouldn’t have been smart.

I answered the call and lifted the device to my ear, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. “Yes?”

“I heard there was a fight in your school yesterday. Is this true?” The voice that came out of it wasn’t overly deep, nor was it loud. In fact, to be honest it was a little soft. But it held power to it, a sense of purpose and confidence that seemed to demand the attention of everything that heard it.

“No greeting towards your only grandson?” I said, although I made sure to keep my voice even, not even letting an ounce of my usual sarcasm and contempt to leak into it. By now I was walking down the street to the local convenience store, the night air warm and a little humid, signaling that it was most likely going to rain soon. The ground was bathed in the harsh orange light of the street-lamps, but there was also a gentler glow to it from the various neon signs that indicated their shops were still open, their own lights bright in the darkness of the night.

When only silence answered me, I answered his original question. “Yes, whoever informed you of the incident is correct. It was little more than a childish scuffle, nothing to be concerned about. I’m fine.”

“I heard it was more than a scuffle Fitser.” I shuddered a little bit when he said my name. His tone may have held no emotion to it, but I swore I still sensed a little bit of displeasure. “A young man’s arm was broken, and your entire class was suspended for a week. Tell me, does this sound like something I shouldn’t be concerned about?”

“I told you, it’s fine. Nothing to worry about. It never got out of control, the one who orchestrated the event seemed to plan everything out carefully.”

Silence answered me. Than, softly: “And did you have any connection to this?”

I stopped, letting out a bitter laugh. “And how could I have anything to do with someone else’s drama? Most of the class doesn’t even know I exist, save for a few who take special notice in people like me. Besides, what could little old me do?”

“Need I remind you why you were enrolled there in the first place? It was so we could make sure you didn’t have another one of your “episodes”. That boy is still walking with a cane.” Came the immediate reply, forcing me into silence.

“I was a child then, and didn’t think of the repercussions.” I retorted, continuing on my way.

“You’re a child now.” He said. The voice didn’t change at all, but I still swallowed nervously. After another brief period of quiet: “are you doing as I asked you to do?”

I nodded before remembering he couldn’t see me. “Yes, grandfather. I’m staying unnoticeable. I stay to myself in class, no one approaches me, which is to be expected, and I’ve made sure to keep my exam scores average. Speaking of which…” I trailed off, the words out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Speak.” He commanded, and I clenched my jaw, before returning to my neutral expression.

“The principal pulled me aside yesterday, after he had gotten everything resolved. He asked me why I wasn’t scoring high on my exams, despite my exemplary performance on the entry test. He seems to suspect why I’m not standing out, and why I was enrolled at the school. He’s also done research into my past. The last I recall, my student profile was a blank, yet he had medical records of me, including my visits to a psychiatrist.”

This caused my grandfather to pause, and I swore I could almost feel the temperature drop a few degrees. “How much does he know?”

By this point I had arrived to the downtown area. It was an almost seven minute walk here, and would be another three minutes before I made it to the store. I spotted a group of three men and two women lingering on a corner, most likely in their late twenties, sitting on one set of stairs that led up to an old looking brick apartment. They were all smoking, and one of the girls was sitting on a man’s lap, his hand resting on her stomach. They eyed me as I walked past them, and I stared them down coolly, continuing my walk. They glanced at my phone, and I saw a glint of greed flash in one of the man’s eyes, but they took notice of my meager casual wear and must have decided I wasn’t worth it, losing interest in me almost immediately. I still hadn’t answered my grandfather, and I could tell he was beginning to get impatient, a rare occurrence for his usually calm and collected self.

“I don’t know.” I replied honestly, turning back to see my destination ahead of me. It was a small store, just a little larger than your typical gas station, and a few of the letters on the neon sign were dark and unlit. But it was the closest thing I had to a grocery store at this time at night, at least in a reasonable walking distance, so it would have to do. “But he knows a lot. He said he served in the army with my father.”

There was a loud crunch, and the line went dead. I walked up to the side of the convenience store, leaned against the wall, and waited patiently for the call that I knew would come. I didn’t want others in the store to be bothered with my conversation, so I opted to remain outside.

Finally the familiar buzz of my phone vibrated in my hand, and I brought it up to my ear. But instead of a greeting or an apology, only five words rang out, official and ominous, sending a chill down my spine.

“I’ll take care of it.” The call ended just as abruptly as before, but without the crunch of him breaking his phone. I sighed, shoving it into my pocket and walking into the convenience store.

Fear wasn’t something that came to me easily. I hadn’t felt so much as nervous since I was 10. But talking to my grandfather alone was enough to make me sweat a little bit, my mouth to go dry, and my breathing to grow rapid.

“You just had to go and pry, didn’t you.” I muttered, a rare trace of pity flashing through me. Oh well. There was nothing I could do, so instead I focused on getting something to tide me over until I went shopping the next morning.

I was once again on my way from the convenience store, taking a different path from before just in case the group from earlier decided I was worth it after all. I wasn’t afraid of being mugged, but I didn’t particularly enjoy a beating either, not when I had enough of those from the dicks in my school. This route was longer, and increased the walking time by at least another five minutes, and wasn’t necessarily safer, but that was uncertain danger versus certain. And I’d take the uncertain any day.

I had bought a loaf of bread, peanut butter, and bananas, the most heavenly of all feasts to be sure. It would at least satiate me until I picked up some actual groceries tomorrow, and it was quick and easy to prepare.

I had been walking for around six minutes now, and was almost out of the downtown area. There were less streetlights here, and the darkness seemed to swallow the city around us. The only illumination around was the occasional cracked open window in the ground-level apartment rooms that allowed light to seep through. Clouds had blotted out the stars, my prediction of rain proving to be accurate so far. I walked on calmly, not disturbed in the least by the suffocating quiet or the pitch black that devoured the earth. At least I had my peace an-

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” A piercing screech tore through the air, shattering the dream-like quiet and my own peaceful walk. It echoed through the tightly packed apartment buildings, rolling down the street to me in a miasma of repeated voices that made it hard to locate the precise location of the cry. It startled me so much that I dropped my bags, my heart pounding in my chest. “NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! HELP!”

I stood still, my eyes wide, and looked around. Slowly, the lights from the windows winked out, the curtains drawing shut as if that would somehow block out the voice. I felt my lips curl a bit in disgust. Human nature at its finest.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“HELP!” The voice screamed again, and I was moving before I even realized where to or why. My feet pounded against the rough concrete, my glasses slipping from my face until I caught them, my arms pumping. “SOMEONE HELP ME!”

I ran, my legs churning as fast as they could, all the while the screams ripping through the air. They had ceased to form words, instead just the desperate cries of someone falling into hysterics, more animal than human.

Finally I had reached the entrance to an alleyway, the screams pinging off of the walls. But now that I was this close, I could hear another set of noises: laughter. The laughter was sinister, and it came from at least three different sources. The alley was bathed in shadow, and despite the surrounding darkness it still took my eyes a moment to adjust.

There was a group of four standing at the end of the alley, three of them corralling the fourth against a wall, forming a ring around them. When my eyes had fully gotten used to it, I saw exactly what I expected: an obvious attempted rape.

The one huddled against the back wall was female. A glimpse was all I needed to tell that she was pretty- stunning, even - and that she was no older then I was. Her figure was somewhat hidden due to a baggy, yet fashionable, sweater, and loose pants, but despite that you could tell she was well developed. Long legs, breasts that bulged slightly despite the loose fit, and a small waist that was undeniably tantalizing. She had long, auburn hair that curled slightly to her shoulder, soft and luscious even in the absence of light. Her skin was a smooth cream color, her complexion perfect and without any blemishes to speak of. To be honest, even I was a little dumbstruck. I had no idea as to what would inspire her to walk around downtown at night and make her think she would be safe.

The three men, on the other hand, were not nearly as distinctive. They all were of average height, although the one closest to the girl was slightly taller then the other two. He had his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries, and I could see a gag-inducing smile on his face, so full of lust and perversion that I had to avert my eyes for fear of throwing up. The other two weren’t even worth describing, as they pretty much mirrored the taller one. I couldn’t see the particulars of their facial features, but even than I doubted it would matter. Their clothes were old looking and a little ratty, with various rips and tears that certainly didn’t look like it was for fashion. Every single one of them had oily brown hair, the kind that seemed to ooze grease from each individual strand. Thankfully they hadn’t gone too far. At most they were copping a feel, each one enjoying their dominance.

“Come on now lady, don’t struggle so much.” The tall one cooed, the voice slimy and hair-raising. “We just wanna have some fun. We promise, we’ll be gentle.”

Laughter, the kind that made one shudder in disgust. There were tears in her wide eyes, full of fear, rage, and despair. They were begging for help, from God or the Devil himself it obviously didn’t matter. Just any form of help. And when none came, they seemed to collapse into themselves, the warm liquid brown turning into an ocean of broken pain and sorrow.

Those haunting eyes landed on me, and a dull glimmer of hope surfaced in them. But when she saw my small stature, and my less-than-appealing looks, the grief returned tenfold, the intensity at least twice as much as before. Slowly, ever so slowly, I picked up a loose brick from the ground. When I had it firmly in my hand, I hid it slightly behind my back, making sure that from the angle they would look at me they wouldn’t be able to see it.

I cleared my throat, but they didn’t even seem to register the sound. By now one of them was fumbling with his pants, hastily undoing his belt. “Enjoying ourselves are we, gentlemen?” I said loudly, my voice calm and indifferent, as if I were simply saying hello to the local newspaper man instead of these perverted fucks.  

This finally got their attention, stirring them out of their animalistic lust and turning their heads in my direction. For a moment they looked panicked, their eyes wide and wild, but when they saw my tiny frame and gangly limbs, and their lips twisted up into a grin filled with contempt.

“Oh, so it’s just a kid.” The tall one said, snorting dismissively. “Whatcha doin’ kid? Tryin’ to play the hero?”

I said nothing, a smile that didn’t reach my eyes forming on my face. It was slight, unnoticeable, but I knew it was there, and that was enough. There was something stirring up inside of me, something I hadn’t felt in a long time: excitement. Not just a momentary distraction from my boredom, but genuine pleasure. While it may have seemed a little sick or twisted to be feeling like this witnessing what was in front of me, I couldn’t help it. This was the first time in a long time I had encountered something that I didn’t view with absolute ridicule.

“You seem to be having fun.” I said, ignoring his question completely, taking a step forward. “Sorry, but I’m gonna have to interrupt your happy happy fun time.”

The tall raked a sneer over me, then turned to the one beside him. “Go deal with him Draven. She’ll be ready when you get back.”

He grumbled a bit, turning to face me with annoyance flashing in his eyes. He stalked toward me, something metal glinting in his right hand. “Listen brat, I’m not in the mood to play one of your games. Fuck off and you’ll leave with your tongue still in your throat.”

My smile only grew wider, and instead I took another step forward. Rage darkened his face, and his own smile began to grow, though his was cruel and unmerciful. “Alright ya fuckin’ retard, don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

He strode toward me, the knife twirling in his hand, though it was slow and sloppy. He obviously had no experience with it.

He was reaching out to me when it happened. My hand struck out, moving with blinding speed toward his face. He never even saw it coming.

The hard brick connected with his jaw viciously, instantly snapping his head to the side and sending him staggering. I didn’t have enough strength in me to shatter his jaw, but I only needed to stun him. That’s all that mattered.

Adrenaline pumped through me, and I switched the brick to my left hand, swinging again and hitting him in the nose solidly, most of the heavy stone connecting with his face. There was a satisfying crunch, blood instantly splattering onto me as his head snapped back. His knees gave out, and he folded in on himself. But that didn’t stop me.

I brought the brick down on his knee caps, shattering it and causing fragments of bone to tear through the joints of his leg. At first he had been too stunned to do anything, but now he was screaming bloody murder, dark liquid gushing from his nose and bubbling around his mouth in a froth as he shrieked, instantly attracting everyone’s attention. They looked just in time to see me bring the brick down a second time, this time smashing his hand into a paste, instantly reducing the bone to fragmented powder. I stood up, the calm, slight smile still on my face, unchanged by what had occurred. He was now completely incapacitated, reduced to a driveling mess as he curled in on himself. I turned to the three who were watching me with shock, and a little bit of fear. I looked at the girl. “Run.”

She took that as her cue, sinking her teeth into the tall one’s arm, causing him to curse and stumble back. She took advantage of their already dazed state and kicked out at one the other’s knee, causing him to go down, and pushed herself off of the wall, launching like a coiled spring and freeing herself from their grasp. She tumbled to the ground, but rolled, popping back up to her feet like an acrobat and sprinting as fast as she could. They had worked off her sweater, revealing her white bra and creamy skin underneath, but I could see toned muscles that indicated she was an athlete, and it showed as she flashed out of the alleyway, glancing at me as she bolted past. The look was one of gratitude, relief, fear, surprise, and a little hesitation. She faltered at the entrance to the alley, turning back, and I nodded to her, causing her to start running.

I turned back to the group. I slowly began to edge backward. The one I had beaten lay on the ground, whimpering as he cradled his hand and his knee. I had wasted him, but that was most likely due to surprise. I had blindsided him. It wouldn’t work with the other two. The adrenaline was still pumping through me, but it didn’t stop the dull ache from my wrist, the skin already swelling and growing stiff. I was physically weak, a fact that had been evident my entire life, and just that single act had already damaged the tendons in my wrist. It was time for me to leave.

I spun around, sprinting towards the end of the alley. But I hadn’t even made it three steps before a deafening bang split the air. Instantly intense agony filled me as something slammed into my shoulder, lifting my tiny frame off of the ground before I crashed back down, gritting my teeth as savage pain tore through my body. It felt like someone had just heated a sledgehammer to a thousand degrees and then swung with full force at my arm. The pain sliced through my brain, causing my vision to go white for a few moments and my mind to go blank, unable to focus on anything else other than that excruciating fire. My ears were ringing, drowning out all other noise. I struggled to pick myself up, but no matter how much I tried, my body refused to listen. Instead it spasmed, hunching my back and curling my legs together, forcing me into the fetal position.

I gasped as the sensation finally left, tears springing to my eyes. But that relief was short lived.

By now the other two had reached me, their expressions distorted from pure rage, their eyes burning with hatred. “Piece of shit.” The tall one spat, kicking me viciously in the ribs. In his left hand was a pistol, his fingers curled around the trigger, and through my tears I could’ve sworn that I saw smoke curling from the barrel. It was small, just a little larger then the average man’s palm, but the pain it brought was shocking. “Fucking ugly ass bitch.” He kicked me again, this time stomping onto my leg, snapping the frail femur in half like a twig.

His friend joined in, each one hurling insult after insult at me, followed by a kick or a punch somewhere they hadn’t landed before. Arms, legs, chest, face, it didn’t matter. Soon there wasn’t any pain, only a dull ache that seemed to pulse with my heart beat. Finally the tall one rolled me over with his foot, then spit onto my face. By now my glasses were gone, lost somewhere in the alley, most likely warped beyond recognition. Than he leveled his pistol to my stomach. “Burn in Hell.” He snarled, and pulled the trigger.

This time there was no pain. Only the sensation of something slamming into my gut, causing my body to bounce a bit. My vision was blurry, although I wasn’t sure if it was only due to my glasses not being there or something else. Through my fuzzy vision I saw the two indistinct figures looping their friend’s arms over their shoulders, then staggered out of the alley. They had won. I was the loser.

Boring. That was the only way to describe this world. Absolutely boring. There was no helping it, of course. It’s just the way it was. The world was nothing more than an unfair game. A game in which if you knew how to play, if you knew and exploited  the rules thoroughly, you would end up being a champion. But if it didn’t, you were considered less than nothing. Just like me.

I was dying now, in this boring world. The realization didn’t come as a shock, nor did it stir any great feelings of regret or indignation. Because despite the knowledge that I was losing blood, that my body was growing cold and despondent, I still had a smile on my face. Because now, right at the end, something had happened to alleviate my boredom completely. I had played the hero.

It was an unfamiliar role, one I hadn’t been in since I was 8. But here I was, saving the damsel in distress. The thought brought a rueful chuckle out of me, and blood slowly leaked out of the corner of my mouth. I struggled to prop myself up, my body protesting every movement, my limbs numb and unresponsive, but I managed it somehow, and even more miraculously managed to crawl over to a wall. My back rested against it, and my blood slowly pooled around me, warm and sticky, yet my body was growing cold. I was dying in a back alley, where it would take at least a day for people to find me, if they were looking at all. My vision was dimming. Everything was slowly, slowly, starting to go black. As it did, my smile began to form into a frown, and at last discontent began to rise into my throat. This world wasn’t fair. I had come to that realization a long time ago, and that wasn’t the source of my dissatisfaction. It was the fact that I had died in such a cliche, boring way, that caused me frown. I had been killed at the hands of walking stereotypes. I hated this world. I hated the people in it, I hated hypocrisy of it, I hated it. This world was the playing board of a dumb, pointless game, boring and riddled with contradictions and obvious, overused mechanics. I hated it.

“Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the pickle!” A voice called out, causing me to stiffen. The voice was childish, pure and innocent, full of life and joy as if everything was a wonder and a marvel. And yet there was something underneath that bright, cheerful tone, a terrifying intelligence and clarity that made it awe-inspiring. I slowly turned to locate the source of the voice, and what I saw stunned me.

It was a child. That was the only way to describe her. She couldn’t have been older then eight, with long, jet black hair that fell straight down to her back, slightly swaying in the wind. To call her beautiful wouldn’t have been enough. Her very existence seemed to cause everything around her to seem dull and uninteresting, as if she were the sole entity of the universe. She had pitch black eyes, eyes that seemed to twinkle with thousands of stars, each iris a separate galaxy that engulfed the one who saw them. Her smile was bright, her teeth white and perfect, each one aligned with each other symmetrically. She had two dimples on each cheek with the smile. If Cupid himself were here, he would’ve sworn he shot himself with his own arrow due to him being instantly smitten. Her skin was tan, but not in a way that seemed like she went outside: nor did it seem like it was a tone she had been born with. It just… was, as if that color of skin had been made specifically for her and no one else. Her skin was possibly the smoothest and purest I had ever seen. She wore a simple white shirt and skirt, yet on her it seemed like the highest end of fashion. She wore no jewelry: that would’ve done her an injustice. Despite her appearance, her eyes held an intellect to them that shone brighter then any sun, like she held the answer to everything in that little head of hers. And she was staring at me, as if I were the most amusing and interesting thing she had seen in her life.

“Well? Say something dummy!” She scolded, and I swallowed, attempting to somehow bring moisture to my dry mouth, to no avail.

“Who are you?” I croaked, my voice raspy. My throat felt like I had gargled shredded razor blades, but I ignored it.

She paused, a finger on her chin and her other hand on her hip in contemplation. “Hmmmm….” She said, her expression one of puzzlement. “I suppose… you could call me God?” It came out as more of a question then an answer though. “No, that’s not right. How about… Ah! I got it.” Her smile was back, just as dazzling and resplendent as before. “I suppose you could say that I am God’s Will!”

I gaped at her. “God’s Will…” I muttered to myself, than chuckled ruefully. “I see. This must be what they call ‘illusions before death’, the natural phenomena most people experience. It explains why some people say they see a white light, or that they went to heaven… I see, I see. It makes sense.”

She pouted, “You know, I’m as real as they come. Well, to you, at least, and to the world. Other people? Not so much.”

I coughed, and more blood slowly oozed down my chin. By now the puddle had stilled, and instead of becoming larger, became thicker as more was added to it. She looked at me. “You know mister, you’re about to die soon.”

I smiled, nodding. “Yes, of that I’m aware.”

Her smile was gone, and she was looking at me, studying me with an unwavering gaze, as if I were a piece of art and she a student whose grade depended on me. Finally, all of her cheerfulness from before gone without a trace: “Tell me, do you want this world to change?”

I stared at her, my own smile gone. I mulled over her question, and came to the answer immediately. And in that instant, I had the urge to answer her. In this moment, it didn’t matter that she most likely wasn’t real, that she was probably an illusion created by the chemicals of my brain firing off signals to one another as they prepared to shut down. There was a desire inside of me, burning with an intensity no fire in Hell could possibly hope to match.

“Yes.” I whispered, my voice so quiet even I had trouble hearing it. I swallowed, once more attempting to get rid of the pain in my throat, but to no avail. “Yes!” I repeated, louder this time, and she cocked her head to the side.

“And why is that?”

“Why?” I muttered, than my jaw clenched. “Because I’m sick of this world. I’m sick of this stagnant existence. I’m sick of these people who never change, of their hypocrisy and their pettiness. This isn’t living. It’s simply death without the dying, a sick form of cruelty inflicted by this world." My voice had degenerated into a raspy snarl, but that didn't matter. The pain in my throat didn't matter either. The only thing that seemed important to me right now was voicing my thoughts, of forcing the words out one by one, as if that were my soul purpose on life. "This world… is boring.” 

As my final words rang through the air, I coughed, this time much more violently. My entire body heaved, and blood sprayed onto concrete. I was cold. Unbelievably cold. My world was fading away, my vision going dark. I was tired. I was so tired of living. It was time to take a short nap. Just a small one.

“The world is boring… what an interesting thought. Very well, you are worthy of being one of my Beta-Testers.” That high, all powerful voice once again spoke, but now it was indistinct, distant, as if I were hearing it from the bottom of a well. My body was so heavy, refusing to move even the slightest. But despite that, I could still see the girl. She was blurry, no more then a smudge of color against a dark background, but she was all I could see. And as she spoke, she came over to me, and I could swear that she was floating. She had a wide, happy grin on her face, much brighter then her earlier smile. Her eyes were sparkling with… was it joy? Pride? I didn’t know, and I was too tired to care. As the darkness slowly consumed me, as my consciousness slowly slipped away, her words followed me into sleep. “Let’s change the world together.”

“Let’s play a game.”