Harvest Moon: Doom the Homeland

Chapter Six: Why?

The ore dug into the water in a boring pattern. The sole passenger on the boat moved it with his arms. Deep cuts circled both of them, some of which extended all the way to his chest. A few unconnected scratches spread across his cheeks and a small one across his forehead.

Birds circled overhead; they were probably vultures. He felt like he was dying, despite the fact that he had escaped with his life. But he was covered in blood, and his clothes were still soaked in it.

What was the point? He spent all that time over something so trivial as a chicken, always assuming that it would stay okay long enough for him to reach the animal hospital. Then he met the blade that did all of this to him, and in the hands of someone he actually cared for. He grimaced as he remembered how easily it slid into his flesh, creating a pool of blood on the floors.

"DAMN!" He broke the silence. By that time, Jack was no longer moving the boat, and just sat and looked up into the sky. Was farming really more complex than he had originally thought? Was it more than just some repetitive nuisance that he did to make some poor sum of money? Had he actually deserved what had happened for his failure?

There were so many questions, and Jack would most likely never find the answer. Before that could have the chance to occur, another blade would pierce Jack's chest…one that rested in his own two hands. It was just too complicated for him to even attempt to understand the world.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE?" he called out, and it echoed for just above forty times before fading away. "You know what—damn it all. I don't care anymore."

He sighed in defeat and looked at the scars all over his arms. Why wasn't it like the muggings back in the city that left him so alone and helpless as a child. The physical pain from this should have been much worse, yet his response was apathy at the world around him. Had he grown accustomed to it? Was he almost up to the point where he could take a bullet to the face and get up within a few seconds? Wouldn't that kill him anyway, even if he didn't feel it, because his brain would be penetrated by a bullet moving at dozens of miles per hour? He ignored the last question.

Glaring at the sky, Jack smiled with malevolence. His life was no longer restricted by the fear of death. He was immortal. No one else in the village could possibly understand him, and he didn't need for them to do so. In fact, none of their insignificant minds would be able to comprehend his sudden realization.

All he needed was a river of blood as compensation for his pain.

No one in the village trusted him, except maybe for Gina. Slowly, Jack began to pick broken bits of Gwen's knife out of his skin, placing them all in a neat pile that eventually covered the entire bottom of the boat. Shit, is that even possible? Yet another question to plague Jack.

"Damn the questions, damn these bits of knife, and damn physics!" Jack cursed. None if those inorganic things had the right to mess with someone as powerful as he was. He was so immune to pain, he shaped new knives out of the points of old ones. He raised one towards the sun. It was coated in the blood he expelled while making it, ironically enough. "And damn the unnamed homeland!"

ACT II: Hilarity Ensues, in the Form of Carnage

Kurt pulled back and forth on the saw into the bark of the tree. Suddenly, he heard something whirling in the wind, but thought nothing of it until a sharp edge poked out of the tree.

"Joe?" he said. "Oh, so now you've decided to come to work, you lazy bastard!"

Kurt walked in front of the tree, preparing to beat Joe over the head, when he froze. There was no one there.

"Just great, Joe! You're not supposed to toss the axe at the tree, and I was taking care of… Wait, is that a…"

The axe slipped from his shaking hand and into the grass. There was something wrong, and not just how the blade got there.

No one cut wood with a sickle.

Almost instantly, sweat dripped from all over his body. It was impossible to stand even remotely still. Kurt kept trying to convince himself that it was only exhaustion that made the sickle appear embedded in the tree that was once only centimeters away from his head. He had been working for at least four hours, and maybe that was messing with his mind.

He would soon be disproved.

"Wh…who's there?" he asked, despite the fact that he would be terrified by a response.

A leaf fell on Kurt's head. It was impaled by his spiky hair. The combination of the leaf and a slight rustling sound only added to the fear.

"Don't act like that, Joe. I know you, but this is going too far even by your standards. Cut it out, or I'll have to--"

"Order Gwen to have me killed?" a sinister voice mocked. Kurt's eyes bulged.

"It's not…" His voice faded away in shock, but if he'd continued he would have been abruptly cut off.

In a single graceful motion, Jack let himself fall from the tree. Landing on his left foot, he swung the right directly into Kurt's neck, smacking him into the ground. Ominous music played as the farmer slowly approached the man he had struck.

"W…w…what did I d…"

"You know what you goddamn did," the assailant sneered.

Behind his messy brown hair, Jack's eyes seemed to flash red. Sunlight reflected off Jack's hand, hitting Kurt in the pupils of his eyes. Before Kurt could claim that it wasn't what he thought it was, he silenced himself by agreeing that being quiet might stop Jack from stabbing him in the face.

"I trusted you…" Jack said.

Kurt would have smacked himself in the face at the moment. If he'd only been a good person and helped Jack, maybe he would have been spared when Jack finally snapped and went on a killing spree. It was all too late now.

The farmer lifted Kurt by his left arm, pulling him almost to his feet. He jabbed the knife into the back of his head, only to have Kurt's pointy hair slice the knife in two. Annoyed, he jammed what was left into the woodcutter's back and kicked him aside.

"If helping me was such a waste of time, why did the consequence do this to me?" he shouted, fully aware that his enemy was dead, while showing his scars. "I only did to you what Gwen would have if you'd been a man and faced what you did!"

Showing no remorse, he trampled Kurt and proceeded to walk into town. He tossed the knife into the forest (landing in a hiker) and took one that was in good condition from his rucksack.

Dia was sitting on the sofa in her mansion, staring out one of the fancy windows. She didn't suspect a thing.

Cliff-hanger! Of course, authors who end chapters by announcing ZOMGCLIFFHANGER deserve to be thrown off a cliff, or hung. Needless to say, I won't make it to the next chapter... But keep reading anyway.