When some people thought about moving, they thought about excitement, new opportunities, new people, new everything. They thought nothing of everything they lost. That was how the world was. Always telling its prisoners to help others before their own selves. Don't die. Stay alive. Your safety first. Don't go against this judgement, or insanity will befall you.
But what of the truth? Was the world just holding us prisoner for its own amusement? Force-feed us the idea that we are and must be selfless, but mess with our minds, tell us that deep down, we only care about our own comfort. Our own life. Our own happiness.
The attic of the the new house is dustier than the rest of the house, if at all possible. Cobwebs string through every corner. An unknown pipe snakes around the corners, up the walls. Not a single artificial light is in the attic. Instead, the beams of the sun shine through a single small window, enough to scare away the possible threats of the unknown, but not enough to be overwhelming with the hustle and bustle and impatience and brightness and pain of people's artificial lights (lives). Will's eyes dart around the room before finally resting on an object: a little black box.
It sits in the center of the room, with the sun's light shining right on it. Like a sign. But... for what? Will approaches it before anything else and brushes off the dust that has accumulated over various forgettable years. It is a sophisticated black, with sharp corners and a gold outline. But what is most intriguing about it is the tiny red stone portruding from its center. It is a deep red jewel. Will knows it isn't fake.
He places his fingertips at the center and lifts up, expecting something great, because only something great can come from a beautiful, real, professionally-crafted little thing. But how far can assumptions get you? Assume, and you disappoint yourself.
It opens rather swiftly, as if it was truly meant for him to find it. Will's green eyes peer inside, resting on a cool black fabric. His eyes narrow, and he picks up the hat in slight disappointment. His assumption, his disappointment.
Nonetheless, it is a very unusual looking hat. It is black, and has a unique shape. A bronze zipper sits at its bottom, but only half a zipper. Will puts it on his head half-heartedly, and gives a whole-hearted grin.
A perfect fit.
Will finds whatever excuse he can to wear the hat, coordinating his clothes so they match. It's only been two days since he found it, and two days since he left the house without it.
He is walking down the town's street, having just finished school. It is sunset, and the light is already starting to fade away. He finds the quiet atmosphere a nice change of pace. His shoes tapped the concrete with a relaxing echo. But, he solemnly remembers that his father (the dastardly evil man) wants him home before sunset. Before dark. Before the best time of the day.
Already the atmosphere takes on a fast pace. His feet quicken. His head raises. The tempo hastens.
He's only several yards into his sprint when he notices a shortcut through a back alley. A shortcut he failed to notice on his first two days down the new road. Without a second thought, he is there, in that vacant dark space.
Then: a scream.
A little girl, no older than nine, is being strangled by a group of very large men. He runs over to them armed with nothing but a fist, and strikes. A man howls in pain, and for a second, their attention on the girl ceases enough for her to run off. They pay her no mind. Will has no time to think before he finds himself on the ground, pinned by the ugliest beast he ever saw. One, two seconds. Something glints in his eye. Three seconds, four. A knife. A sharp pain. A red liquid spills out, and it finally all catches up with him:
Blood. His blood.
The man who stabbed him lets out a little smirk and invites the other two to play with him an orchestra of blood and gore. Knives, axes, saws, hammers. Then one plays the first note with a little scratch. The other two follow up with the booming of the sledgehammer, the melody of the saw, and the constant beat of the axe. It is a masterpiece. A masterpiece of agony.
Will can't even scream as the Darkness overthrows his conscience.
He is floating, in the abyss, in everything, in nothing. He could see everything, but saw nothing. Tranquility. Loneliness.
So this is what it is like to die.
Not quite.
The voice is deep, but surreal. Will wonders if, like himself, it really exists. He wonders if he truly deserved this, if he will ever live again, if everyone must experience this same fate.
Yes... though you are not quite dead.
Will blinks (or as close as he can get to blinking, without a body) and tries to reply. He can't.
Because you died wearing a Hat and performed a Noble Deed, you do not have to suffer the same fate as your fellow... dark beings.
The voice was talking about humans. Will knew. (And he silently agrees)
You've proved yourself better than them, so you will die to your old life as one of them, and be renewed with rebirth. Now... take your new body, and live it with pride.
The darkness dissipates. Will grins.
The banette floated up from the pool of blood and looked down at the corpse. Three men had turned to leave, having finished with whatever business they had in the dark alley. They were skipping and jumping inside in their minds with yet another deed well done. How good it felt to accomplish something after taking so long to find it! They talked, and rattled on in their disgusting voices about the details.
The banette's eyes narrow, and for a moment, they were green again. But then they quickly reverted back to the demonic red, and set themselves on his prey. He dashed.
Screams of agony tainted the night sky, and soon enough, the deed was done. A pool of blood ran down the alley's street, staining the so-called shortcut and finally, even if it was only temporary, revealing the world for what it truly was. But it was only temporary; it would never last.
But, then, that was how the world was. Always telling its prisoners to help others before their own selves. Don't die. Stay alive. Your safety first. Don't go against this judgement, or insanity will befall you.
Image owned by mark331 on deviantart
