Aren sat trembling on a chair.
In a barren room.
The walls white as bone.
As white as his face.
His knees were drawn up.
His arms wrapped around them.
Shadows lay across his face.
And yet, inside him, fire burned.
Every time he recalled the night before.
How he set the timer.
His fingers sticky.
Slippery.
And trembling.
How he wandered through the halls.
And how he jumped.
How the flames roared behind him.
And the world tore apart.
For hours he walked.
Limped through the city.
Gasping and smeared with blood.
His gaze wandered aimlessly.
Across shadows and darkness.
The buildings around him seemed to grow.
To stir.
To shoot upward.
And close in around him.
He fell onto hands and knees.
Dragged himself forward.
Over rubble and stone.
Tore open his fingers.
Pulled himself onward.
And behind him the blood trails of his fingers.
After a while.
After hours.
He had collapsed.
Only the gasping was left to be heard.
And the screams of his pain.
Of his betrayal.
Whimpering, he had curled up.
Awaiting the end.
Aren pulled his legs close.
Buried his face between his knees.
And wrapped his arms around them.
He trembled.
The memory burned inside him.
His torn fingers dug into the fabric of his pants.
What had he done.
A tear ran down his cheek.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
It went on.
Took the last millimeters.
And dropped.
From his cheek.
To the floor.
Through bloodshot eyes.
Aren stared after it.
The tear.
"No," his lips formed.
"No."
His face twisted.
"No," he screamed.
His fingers dug into flesh.
Soft flesh beneath his eyes.
He tore.
Tore them open.
And screamed.
With a breaking, cheerful voice.
"No regret!" He shook himself and slipped from the chair.
Hit the floor hard.
While blood flowed beneath his eyes.
And with shrill cries he struck the ground.
"No regret — I do this for her, only for her."
"Yes, for her," a voice brushed over him.
Full of mockery and scorn.
Aren froze.
Slowly he lifted his head.
He trembled.
His breathing quickened.
His eyes darted over the figure now standing before him.
The blood from the wounds beneath his eyes.
His tears.
Glistening.
Pure.
Mixed together.
Red tears.
They ran down his cheeks.
Dropped to the floor.
Formed a small sea.
A sea of blood and sorrow.
He stared at the figure.
Out of the dark hollow shells of his eyes.
The figure.
His greatest nightmare.
Stepped closer.
Brushed dark hair from his forehead.
And smiled at Aren.
A mocking smile.
Full of scorn.
"Rero," Aren breathed.
"Hello, my friend."
Rero smiled.
Rero stepped toward him.
He looked at Aren.
Gentle.
And lurking.
"Aren, good to see you."
He knelt down before him.
"So, how do you like my home? A bit cold, but I suppose that's better than too hot."
Aren stared at him, trembling.
His lips slowly parted.
"A good base," he whispered.
His voice dull.
Broken.
Rero spun around.
Laughing loudly.
"Yes, I quite agree with you, Aren."
He turned back slowly.
Toward Aren.
Towered over him.
His head tilted.
The gaze of a predator in his eyes.
"You really did good work," he said.
"For that, I want to reward you."
The grin returned.
Full of mockery.
And ecstasy.
"Two rewards," he chuckled.
"Wouldn't want you to have to choose."
Rero grabbed Aren's hand.
And pulled him to his feet.
Patting his cheek.
An almost warm smile on his face.
"Come Aren, I want to show you someone," Rero said, smiling.
Aren stared at him.
From dark eyes.
Filled with darkness.
"Yes," slipped over his lips.
Rero walked to the door.
"Follow me," he said with a wave and left the room.
Aren staggered after him.
He stumbled through the hallway.
Only one thing in his sight.
Rero.
Who was walking ahead of him.
He clenched his fists.
His spread fingers brushed along the wall.
Cool and rough, they extended along the hallway.
But Aren fixed his gaze on Rero.
It still blazed within him.
It raged like purgatory.
Anger.
His fists trembled.
While shadows wrapped around him.
Embracing him.
And his gaze of darkness remained on him.
Rero.
Who had taken everything he loved.
The only thing he had ever loved.
His hope.
In the world of cruelty.
Rero stopped in front of a door.
He turned to Aren.
Smiling broadly.
"Get ready."
The door swung open.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
And revealed a view of horror.
Cages.
Stacked.
Inside them.
People.
In filthy rags.
Making fearful sounds.
Shivering from cold and fear.
Pressing themselves against the bars.
Into the farthest corners.
Where metal scraped skin.
Aren stared past Rero.
At this spectacle of misery.
He recoiled.
His breathing quickened.
The already broken eyes,
Filled with hopelessness and darkness,
Widened.
At pure horror.
His body trembled.
He stumbled away from the door.
Pressed himself against the wall.
Rough. Cool. Endless.
Like Rero, who now turned around.
Smiling quietly.
"What is it, Aren?" He tilted his head.
"Don't be surprised by these creatures in the cages," he chuckled.
"They're just useful. Sometimes they make a mess, but that's easy to control," he paused.
"Do you want to know how?"
Aren stared at him, unable to speak.
Rero ran his fingers gently over a cage.
The inmate whimpered.
Pressed against the bars.
"You grab one after the other," his hand shot between the metal bars.
His fingers closed around the girl's head.
Pressed tight.
Letting her scream and beg.
Rero laughed.
Madness crept over his face.
Distorted it.
"Then you hurt the creature."
He hurled the girl around.
She slammed against the bars.
Screaming loudly.
Her big brown eyes caught Aren's.
As he trembled against the wall.
Desperate.
Alone.
Her pleading gaze touched him.
Her lips formed something.
A word.
Rero laughed.
"And then you kill it."
He crushed her skull.
Blood sprayed from the cage.
Staining the white floor red.
And splattered Aren's face.
He stood there, stunned.
A dead silence surrounded him.
Rero turned away from the cage of the dead.
He smiled.
Quietly.
And mockingly.
Wiped the blood from his chin.
Leaning forward,
He studied the floor thoughtfully.
It was red with blood.
"Ah, how foolish, the beautiful floor sullied with this filth."
He shook his head sadly.
"What worthless creatures they are."
He lifted his head and looked at Aren.
"My friend, your worthless creature is waiting back there."
He pointed to a door at the end of the room.
"Don't be scared, but she looks terrifying."
Aren hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then he ran.
The door grew larger.
With every step, it grew.
His hope.
He stopped in front of the door.
Trembling, he reached for the doorknob.
And slowly it swung open.
Revealing to him the view.
Of her.
There she was.
Tia.
In a small cage.
Chains on her arms and legs.
Her skin white as bone.
Her eyes deeply sunken into their sockets.
Her hair hung like a tangle over her face.
And on every inch of her small body clung blood.
Some dried. Others fresh.
And still warm.
She lifted her small head.
Looked at him with her dead eyes.
And rasped in a thin, broken voice,
"Papa."
Aren sobbed.
Slowly, he approached the cage.
Her.
She raised a hand.
Thin and bony.
"Papa," she whispered weakly.
Tapped his leg.
"Papa, you're here."
Her voice broke.
"You're here."
A soft whimper.
Aren fell to his knees.
Tears fell.
Clear as crystal.
Running down
His cheeks.
His arms wrapped around the girl.
Pressing her to the bars.
Tia whimpered.
Wrapped her white arms around him.
Her tears fell to the ground,
Mixing with his.
For one last time, they were united in happiness.