"Let's play a game"
"I chase, you run"
"If you manage to escape— you win.
But if I catch you... you lose"
A crooked smile stretched across his face, head tilted ever so slightly.
"And if you lose"
His voice cracked into a twisted stutter.
"I-I-I'll kill youuu"
The wind came down from the mountains like a beast unchained—cold, sharp, and relentless. It tore through the trees, ripping leaves from their branches and clawing at the earth with icy fingers.
"Huh..."
"Who are you? And why do you want to play a game like this?"
He stood motionless, as if untouched by the chaos, while the world around him seemed to burn and break apart.
Then—his mouth twitched.
A smile.
Too wide.
Too calm.
And then it came:
"Kehehe... kukuku... fufufu... AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
The laugh echoed unnaturally, carried by the wind like a curse let loose into the night.
"Don't make me call you twice... you bitch"
His presence felt spectral—like a ghost draped in the mask of a joker, bound by silence, trailed by fate.
The air grew still.
Time itself seemed to hesitate.
He stood there—arms outstretched, gaze razor-sharp, as if daring the world to breathe.
And then, in a whisper barely louder than the wind:
"It's playtime"
Ren stood there—frozen, mind clouded.
He couldn't read the expression on that face... couldn't grasp the madness in his movements.
Still, he tried to speak.
"Joker..."
"What? N—"
He didn't even get to finish.
THWACK!
A brutal punch slammed into his stomach.
The air in his lungs vanished.
Blood burst from his nose as he staggered back—
But the Joker didn't stop.
Another blow came, faster than thought—
This time to the face.
CRACK!
Ren's head snapped sideways as blood sprayed into the air like red mist.
"GHHKK!"
Ren's breath was ripped from his lungs.
He shot backward like a shattered arrow, crashing into a tree with such force it made the branches tremble.
"KFFF!"
A choked cough tore from his throat as the air was violently knocked out of him.
From across the clearing, a voice cooed with cruel amusement.
"You'll catch your death out there..."
"Kehehe…"
His laughter echoed—like a child's music box playing on rusted springs.
Sweet.
But utterly wrong.
"Let it all fall… Let it ALL fall, ahaha!"
His shoulders trembled, consumed by madness.
His eyes—wide and glassy—never blinked.
Ren spat blood, clutching his ribs.
"F-Fuck y-you… Joker."
Ren lay still, slumped against the base of the tree.
Above him, the leaves whispered softly in the breeze—untouched, unaware of the violence that had just shaken the earth below.
"You brat..."
The Joker's voice dripped with mockery.
"Didn't think you'd be this soft. This weak."
"Heheheheheheh..."
He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly, and murmured:
"Run before I call you again—"
"Brat... brat... brat... brat... brat..."
Ren's eyes slowly lifted, burning through the pain.
He shouted, voice raw and trembling:
"You twisted bastard!"
"You beat me this hard—and now you want me to run?!"
"Just so you can kill me? Or beat me again?!"
Blood slipped from his nose, traced the corner of his lip, and dripped down his chin—
"KAHH… KGHH!"
Ren coughed violently, pain twisting through every word.
"What… what do you want from me?"
His eyes burned with desperation, but his voice cracked under the weight of agony.
The Joker stood still, arms slightly stretched, like a marionette waiting for its strings to be pulled.
He didn't react.
He just listened—silent, unmoving.
There was something in his eyes.
Something that almost looked like… care.
But his smile—
That smile said otherwise.
And then, softly, almost kindly, he nodded.
"I want to kill you. That's all."
Ren flinched. His voice dropped into a whisper, trembling:
"Why… why do you want to kill me?"
"Who are you?"
"Who are you…?"
The Joker tilted his head ever so slightly.
A smile slid slowly across his face—unblinking, unbreaking.
Like he was remembering something beautiful…
or something broken.
"I am the savior of this world."
"I'm the only one who can save it."
The Joker's voice was calm—almost gentle.
"And for that to happen… you have to die, little brat."
The ren's limbs froze.
His heart pounded like war drums in his chest.
His mind screamed Run!
But his legs—
Wouldn't move.
He began backing away, inch by inch, as if the very air was shoving him toward the edge of death.
"No... no no no no no no no no—"
The Joker's laughter began softly.
"Kehehe..."
"Kukuku..."
Then, suddenly—
"AHAHAHAHAHA!!"
It tore through the silence like glass shattering in the dark.
"No no no no no—"
"Please—"
The Joker took a step forward, smiling wide. His eyes gleamed, cruel and clear.
"You have to die"
A silent pause—
A stillness that lingered.
It was almost cruel… how beautiful the world remained unchanged.
"Huh..."
"Where... am I?"
"Where's the Joker?"
Ren sat at a study table, breath unsteady.
The room was quiet, almost too quiet.
Above the desk, a book , a corkboard hung—pinned with reminders, faded photographs, and self rough sketche and his own face blur.
He looked around, heart still racing.
"Did I just... wake up from a dream?"
A bitter laugh escaped him, mixed with relief.
"Thank God... it was just a dream."
"That was the worst nightmare I've ever had..."
Outside, the sky was soft—painted in pale gold and powder blue.
Morning light spilled through the window like a gentle promise.
Birdsong floated through the air—not loud, just enough to remind the world: you're alive. It's morning.
But somewhere deep inside, something still clung to the silence—
Like a whisper that hadn't yet faded.
"Mom always told me not to watch horror movies late at night..."
Ren muttered to himself, trying to force a smile.
The room was quiet and warm.
Sunlight poured through the window, casting soft golden patterns across the wooden floor.
Everything looked peaceful.
He placed both hands on his head and bowed forward, trying to breathe.
But the moment he closed his eyes—
"You have to die."
"Huh?"
His eyes snapped open.
"T-That voice... the Joker's voice... it's still echoing in my mind."
"Gnnn—ugh—urgh..."
A painful grunt escaped him.
And then—
A faint laugh.
"Hehe... HAHAHA"
His body tensed.
"Huh—gnnn... not again... that laugh..."
"I-I can still hear it. What's... what's happening to me?"
"Hehe... HAHAHA"
The sound looped in his head, louder, sharper—like broken glass spinning in his skull.
"JUST STOP ITTTTTTT—AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
He screamed, hands tearing away from his head only to clamp over his ears.
He pressed hard—desperate to block it out, to crush the sound inside his mind.
And then—
DING! DING! DONG!
His eyes flew open. He gasped.
"S-Someone's here!"
He stumbled to his feet and rushed toward the door, still shaking.
DING! DONG!
He grabbed the handle, hesitating.
"Who's at this time...?"
A familiar voice came from the other side, gentle but slightly concerned.
"Ren, why aren't you opening the door?"
He froze.
"Huh...?"
A breath of disbelief left his lips.
"It's... Mom"
He opened the door—
And without a moment's delay, his mother tugged his ears.
"Why didn't you open the door sooner?"
"Still watching movies late at night instead of sleeping, huh?"
"Owch—Mom, nooo!" Ren winced, laughing nervously.
A bird sang somewhere in the distance—its melody light and pure, almost too innocent for a world that had just felt so wrong.
The silence that followed was calm. Still.
Almost... unnaturally still.
"Anyways," his mother said, stepping inside with a huff.
"Did you eat your breakfast? Ahh, who am I asking—
The boy who can't even wash his own underwear properly."
"Huhhh..."
Ren looked away, scratching his cheek as he nodded in embarrassed defeat.
She just moved quietly into the kitchen.
Her rhythm was calm, practiced.
The soft sounds of cutting, stirring, and flipping filled the space—so familiar, so ordinary.
The scent of warm soup and fried rice drifted through the air, mixing with the fragrance of fresh earth and blooming flowers from the garden just outside the window.
Ren stood by the doorway, still—lost in thought.
"Huh...? What happened?"
Her voice was low, almost to herself.
"Na—nothing."
She didn't turn around.
"Don't lie to me"
"I'm not lying"
She let out a playful chuckle.
"Haha… Look at your nose—it's getting bigger and bigger. You know what they say: when someone lies, their nose grows!"
He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Then, softly:
"Don't be afraid to tell me, okay?"
"You're so quiet today..."
She turned slightly, her voice now more tender.
"That's not like you at all. It's… abnormal."
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
Outside, the birds sang again—unaware, or perhaps uncaring, that just moments ago, the air had cracked with fury.
A single flower petal drifted down from a tree and landed gently on the ground, as if the world itself was trying to stay calm.
Ren nodded slowly.
"It's nothing. Just… the worst dream I've ever had."
She said nothing.
Just stood there, watching him—quiet, unreadable—her eyes searching his.
"What was the dream?"
"Nothing much."
Her tone sharpened—still soft, but firmer.
"I said... what was the dream, Ren?"
He sighed.
Ren, Hesitate.
Then -
"I saw a Joker. In my dream."
"His face was weird, twisted. And his laugh..."
Ren's voice lowered, mimicking.
"He laughed like—kehehe… kukuku…"
Still, she didn't respond.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
Just watched him… like she knew something.
Then, without a word, she turned around.
She reached for the kitchen counter, picked up a knife—
And then, her shoulders began to shake.
Softly.
Silently.
She starts crying.
"Huh...?"
Ren stepped forward, confusion tightening in his chest.
"Why... why are you crying, Mom?"
A pause.
"Time has come"
Heavy. Long. Cold.
She looked back at him.
Her eyes were hollow.
Her smile—gone.
"Do you trust me?"
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet.
"What...?" Ren asked, barely above a whisper.
She stared at him for a moment longer, then spoke again—this time with a tremble that wasn't fear.
It was resolve.
"I'm sorry... but the world doesn't deserve you."
"You have to die."
"This... this is the only way I can protect you now."
Ren froze.
His gaze dropped—
To the knife in her trembling hand.
"Wh-Wh-What are you... going to do, Mom?"
"Tell me... I'm still dreaming, right?"
His voice cracked.
"I'm still dreaming... right?"
She stepped forward.
"I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry..."
She stepped forward—
tip... tip...
Each step echoed like a drop of water in a drowning silence.
"No—Mom, wait!"
Ren's voice broke with terror.
Then—
A voice not hers. Not human.
Spoke through her lips like a chant carried by forgotten winds:
"DrênInêl- YrêlRāv Tör SölAêl OrānFaên WêbOrān...
GuralOrān OrānFāen RāvEshBoörlun... Orān..."
The knife caught the candlelight, glistening like a sacred relic.
It trembled faintly—
But not from fear.
Her grip was unwavering.
Her breath—calm as still water.
"Nooooo—!"
Ren's scream tore from his throat,
But was cut short.
A sharp, sickening sound—
Blood rose in his mouth, warm and metallic.
His legs buckled.
He fell.
"I'm sorry, my Ren," she whispered, kneeling beside him, voice broken by love and madness.
"But this world… it won't allow you to live."
A single tear dropped onto his cheek—warm, before it cooled.
Ren, He looked up—
Her face hovered above him, but it was blurred… distant… like a fading photograph smudged by tears.
His vision trembled, and yet, in his heart, he still wondered—
Was this still a dream?
It had to be...
So, he closed his eyes.
Gently.
As if drifting off into sleep.
Not with panic.
But with a strange, quiet acceptance.
Like his soul had already decided it could rest now.
Blood pooled beneath him, warm against the cold floor.
His lips parted—barely a whisper left in him.
"Why... did you do this... Mom?"
A pause. A breath.
"Who... are you?"
And with that—
The light behind his eyes dimmed,
As silence settled again.
The earth was scarred—ripped, burned, broken.
But above it, the sky wore peace.
A strange, cruel beauty.
A world where nature smiled gently… even after everything had wept.
Silence.
Then—
A breath.
"Huhh..."
His voice trembled in the stillness.
"Where… am I?"
His words barely reached the air, like they didn't belong to the world around him.
A sharp pain pulsed through his skull—
As if reality itself were pounding on the inside of his head.
"Ahh—this pain... it's knocking my head so hard..."