It was a cold evening when I walked back home from work. The boss kept me later than expected, saying one of my coworkers had something come up suddenly. I didn't really have a choice. He practically forced me. I tightened the scarf around my neck, taking in the warmth. I looked to the left, then my right. It was an empty night, with empty streets. The old lights buzzed a little.
The crunch of my footsteps on the snow where the only sounds I heard, until the still wind started to pick up its pace. It wasn't long before it started to roar, lashing at me, picking up some of the late autumn leaves that hadn't gotten buried by the snow yet. How could the weather change so quickly? It was like a change of scene, as if a switch had been turned on. I trudged onward, shivering. I saw something at the corner of my eye. Looking towards it, I was shocked to see a young man standing on the other side of the road.
He looked about sixteen, with blue eyes and messy black hair. Black rimmed glasses were placed atop his nose, which was turning pink from the cold, and he was wearing a scarf, too. He waved at me with such a bright and friendly smile that I felt obliged to wave back, my own lips curving into a small smile.
Even if I didn't know who he was.
Did I?
He put his hand down and started walking across the cross walk towards me. He looked eager. Eager to tell me something.
What? How did I know?
Suddenly, I heard the sound of a car speeding, along with the sound of a horn blaring.
"Look out!" I yelled, and then closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, he was lying there, splotches of blood sprawled across the ground and on his clothes. I thought I saw a stab wound in his stomach, but a blink later, it was gone. Something in my stomach lurched, and my eyes got moist with tears threatening to stream down my face. I ran towards his body, lying in the middle of the street, and grabbed him, pulling him into my arms. I put my hands on his face. He was all cut up and bleeding, turning paler by the minute. I felt warm tears trickle down my cheek as I bit my lip, trying to assess the situation.
I yelled, trying to wake him from his unconscious state. I noticed my hand turning red from the blood that seeped out of the back of his head. I was shaking by then, my stomach still flipping.
"John! Oh god, please be okay. John, look at me!" I shook him a little, causing him to stir, his eyes barely open.
"Dave.." He managed to whisper.
"Oh god, you're turning pale. Hang in there, okay? I'm calling for help."
Getting no answer from him, I fished for my phone and started dialing, my cold, stiff fingers barely managing to grasp the phone right. He was just laying there, his eyes closed again. I panicked and shook him.
"Stay with me, John. You'll be okay." Please be okay, I meant to say. You're the last one.
He slowly turned his head towards me, opening his eyes.
Something in my mind clicked, and suddenly, I wasn't in my work clothes anymore, but rather in god tier. John was in my arms, near death already, the wound in his stomach bleeding through his blue attire. Bodies were littered across the floor, two I recognized as Jade's and Rose's, and others of trolls. Was there anybody left?
"Dave, listen to me. You have to defeat him," he said hoarsely.
"John, I, I'm so sorry, I couldn't save you, I couldn't.." My mind was racing. I couldn't form words, and I felt exhausted.
"Promise me, okay? That you'll win. You need to. For us." John was breathing slowly by then, his voice quivering, and it frightened me. I knew where this was going, having witnessed most everyone else's deaths.
"Okay," I said through tears. "I promise," though I couldn't guarantee it.
He gave me a pained smile and turned his head again to look up at the sky.
"I'm sorry we had to leave this up to you, and," he let out a shuddery breath, "I know it's a lot of pressure, but you need to be the hero this time," he said to me, though his ragged breathing made it hard to understand, I knew what he had meant.
"Dave, I don't think," he coughed, "that I can hold on anymore." His eyelids began to lower.
As soon as he said that, my heart sank and I grasped his arms tighter as if it would help his state, but he simply closed his eyes, his body turning still.
"John! No!" I screamed.
"Please don't go," I pleaded, softly this time, but it was clear he was already gone.
I sat there for a while longer, just holding him, but then set his limp body on the ground again. I reached for my bloodied sword beside me and slowly stood up, falling once, and then getting up again with shaky legs.
Suddenly, I wasn't there anymore. I was on the sidewalk, on the floor, my head in my hands. Where did it all go? Where did they go? Was I just hallucinating? But it felt so real, like it happened before.
I stood up with weak knees and hung onto a street sign nearby. I started to finally regain myself when I froze, as if the situation finally struck me as odd.
Who was that?
Who's John? How did I know that was his name, and how did he know me?
There were billions of questions clouding my mind, and none of them could be answered.
I buried my face in my hands. I felt like bawling.
Why does it feel like I'm all alone?