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Decayed beings are disgusting. Not only with their appearance, but also their insides. They lost all sense of will, anything that proves that they're human. It's gone; all that was left was ugly, rotting flesh. If he wanted to live, that would mean destroying all those who came across him. He had no regrets, after all, they were barely people. He wasn't killing mercilessly. He's only releasing their body from the hell that they're in.
“Hey, Mr. Flux, do you care about my safety?”
He scoffed, finding that thought ridiculous. Why would he? They just met. He wouldn't care that much about someone when he should be worrying about himself.
“No.”
“Oh. Okay.”
And yet.
He held an axe, and it trembled in his hand. He couldn't raise it, not against the young kid in front of him. There were no signs of life, just a hollow shell that used to carry that deep curiosity in them. He was hesitating. Why was he? In front of him is nothing but disgusting flesh. If he doesn't do anything now, he might be next.
How did it come to this? He just left, not for long. And coming back to see that state.. he clenched his fists, tightly gripping the axe. Goddamn it. He doesn't want to admit it. But he did start caring for the kid. He truly did. And he hates how much he tries to convince himself that the one in front of him is just a shell, his mind shuts it down and refuses to see it as it is. That the one in front of him was still human.
There's no smile, the smile he found annoying. Seriously..? The kid hasn't… come back home yet. He still had to finish this “trip” to get an A, or something. He failed to protect someone close to him, again. That kid had looked up to him, did he not? Even if he was cold to him.
“You’re my friend now, Mr. Flux!”
Hah… he found it ridiculous to make friends in the situation they're in, but maybe that was the only way to make light of the situation. He let out a bitter, strained laugh as he swallowed his feelings. He shouldn’t have grown attached. Attachment only leads to ridiculous emotions, and that's stopping him from committing to something. Just like now. Wouldn't the kid want him to put him out of his misery? And yet he could barely move.
Thomas it moved, too quick for the naked eye, but he was fortunate enough to dodge, his breath knocked off his throat. Those eyes were so dull, not like the ones he knew that were so full of life. He dropped everything except the axe. His items will only slow him down for this. He had to face it, or he would eventually meet his doom sooner than he would've wanted it to.
He had nothing else left for him, left to go on. He already gave up on life a long time ago, having no other connection or motivation. Is there really anything pleasing to this thing we call living? No, there wasn't. Everything that befallen him, all those painful experiences, had drained him, and he had only thought that the only way to go was death. That was still his view. Because he had no family, no friends, nothing in his name. But as if the gods pitied him, they sent quite the bubbly one to make him realise that even if things were bitter, there would still be light.
The kid showed him to look forward to something, to be excited again, to.. not mind life. Not mind living, even for a long while. That burning, empty feeling in his chest was filled with longevity, that he wanted to live for a little longer, and that he was just a bitter, sad man.
But the gods are cruel. Because they took that away from him, too.
He was never religious. If there were a god, why is he suffering here? Why must he always be in pain? He thought he finally had someone, but they're cruel. Too cruel. He exhaled, his body still trembling, but he ground himself, shoving all thoughts that even dared to make him hesitate.
He had to do it for the kid. He can't allow him to roam around mindlessly. He slashed and slashed, like he had no goal. His mind was blank, and he wasn't moving with a plan this time. Just pure emotions, driven by his hatred towards life. The good ones had to leave the world first, huh?
And then he tasted blood. Disgusting, metal blood. It splashed in his face and stained his axe before he stepped back, watching the body flop down to the ground. He would've hit it twice if it weren't in the body of Thomas.
“........”
“Goodbye, Thomas.”
May the gods be nice to you in your next life.