"Yes...very soon..."
But the one these words were meant for couldn't hear him. As he said those words he placed her head gently on the ground. After a few seconds, Nicolas got up, placing his sights on the car's driver a few meters away.
Inside the old car, the airbags probably weren't working and the driver seemed to be in a terrible state. His whole face was covered in blood and so were his short hair.
As Nicolas got closer with steady steps he realized that the man's nose was so awfully broken that he could see its bone protrude through the skin. His facial features were indiscernible under the blood and his head was lowered in an unnatural position.
He stopped right in front of the driver's window and looked inside. There was no one in the car besides the bloodied man. On the co-driver's seat he noticed a broken phone whose screen had now partially shattered. A few of its intact parts were showing an image.
At that moment he displayed an angry expression. His eyes wide open were looking at the man from above with an indescribable coldness. His face was slightly red and his teeth, that were visible, were clenched so tightly that one could easily see that there was blood on them.
"This... fucking bastard...was on his phone!!!?"
Nicolas snapped. He punched right through the cracked window and grabbed the man's neck. Nicolas, turned the head towards him to check his breathing. After hearing for a second he concluded that the man wasn't breathing and had died shortly after his crash at the building.
Following that, he slammed the driver's face at the steering wheel with force a couple of times. The honking sounds reverberated throughout the surrounding blocks as if they were in symphony with the alarm sounds of the car, which had begun as soon as the collision happened.
After a few seconds of doing that atrocity, he took another look at his girlfriend's dead body. His expression was now completely relaxed, at an extreme degree, as if nothing had happened in the last few minutes.
He then began walking again away from the scene with slow steps. There was no one else nearby to see him or the accident that had taken place. Even though it was the middle of the day, the square and the surrounding blocks were pretty far away from any highways and commercial streets. It was normal for there to not be a single person nearby.
Below the hot sun, the boy looked like a butcher that had slaughtered countless animals. His hands were dripping blood, his face and hair had drops of blood here and there. His black t-shirt was also covered in blood, but due to its color it was hardly visible.
The boy had already decided what he would do next. He would...end his life.
*
Nicolas Hanais lacks the meaning of life and death. He always treated the death of someone like an everyday occurrence, not being sad or feeling any other emotion. To him it just meant that the person would disappear forever from his life.
That was how he felt until he met her, the girl that would later become his girlfriend. She understood how he felt without him showing any signs. She understood that he felt loneliness. Loneliness stemming from the inability to comprehend their grief. So he always treated himself like he wasn't a human being, just a sentient parasite.
But that changed when they got closer. They eventually went on a date and a couple days later they went on another one and a third one and so it went on. At one point he started having an indescribable feeling for her. He called it love.
So he decided to confess to her and, fortunately, she felt the same way about him.
When they got together, they felt a little awkward with one another because it was their first time being in a relationship. But after some time, they started expressing their feelings in not just words but with actions too.
They soon were in a romantic relationship where each cared for the other. There were no secrets between them and they weren't ashamed of revealing their bodies to their lover. The only thing that they hadn't done to this day was have sex.
She was the only person he wanted to live together with and he thought of her everyday, each time feeling happier. At one point he developed a small desire. He didn't want to lose her.
But now that she had died, the boy with no attachment to life had only a single thought in his mind.
*
In Greece things are very simple. There are countless people that have guns in their homes and even more carry them around, especially in the center of the city such as the areas of Piraeus and Omonoia.
It isn't that hard to get a knife from a supermarket and threaten a drug addict on the street or offer sugar disguised as drugs in exchange for a gun.
With that thought in mind, Nicolas went to the nearest bus stop and waited for five minutes before a bus arrived. He got in from the second door on the side, away from the watchfull eyes of the bus driver. Usually there is no one to check if he has a ticket except for the peak hours, from seven to ten in the morning and from four to seven in the afternoon.
During all this time no one had payed any attention to the bloodied t-shirt and hands of his or the few drops of blood on his face. That was until now. A man sitting by the door saw him and immediately avoided the boy's wide open, blue-gray eyes that looked like those of a killer and got out of the bus without any hesitation. He had mistaken him for a murderer.
As he got on the bus Nicolas realized there was no one else inside but the driver and an old lady chatting at the front. He sat down a seat away from the door and awaited patiently until he arrived at his destination, Omonoia.
*
The way to Omonoia was relatively quiet... except for a woman that saw Nicolas and screamed in panic but fortunately the driver found nothing unusual at a single glance. The woman then got off the bus and screamed repeatedly many times.
"Police!!! Police!!! Help me!!!"
The driver thought that she had gone nuts from the heat and continued his course, finally arriving at Nicolas' destination.
Now all he had to do was find a supermarket and get a kitchen knife. After searching for ten minutes he eventually found one. Right now, he had to wash away the blood from his face and hands and enter like a regular customer buying a few things to cook himself lunch or dinner.
He found a dirty public restroom a hundred meters away and walked there with relaxed steps at the side of the road. He didn't care if he was seen drenched in blood, so he didn't even hide his hands and head covered in it.
Following that, he washed himself and went into the supermarket and bought, with the fifty euros he had on his phone, a kitchen knife, a few vegetables and a peach which he cut and ate.
The vegetables he then proceeded to give to a homeless man silently sleeping in front of the market. The homeless man saw him and looked surprised by the sudden gift offered to him and asked him.
"Why are you giving all these to me? There are too many."
The answer he received from the boy was something unexpected.
"The dead don't need anything."
He said with sad eyes and a voice devoid of any emotion.
"... Thank you..."
Said the man hesitatingly because he understood what Nicolas meant. Under extreme circumstances humans are capable of doing unreasonable things. The man knew that from his personal experience.
A large percentage of the homeless weren't born like that. Many had jobs, were successful in life before their luck ran out and they were tossed aside by the society. A single tragedy, a single event brought the upside down to their lives.
They went from being happily living their lives to begging others for something to eat, to make it the next day. Always hoping that tomorrow will be better than today. But there never came a better day. Everything became worse as time passed, making anyone lose their minds.
At those times the thought of taking one's life wasn't something abnormal.
The man watched the boy disappearing from his vision. Unable to utter even a single word, unable to stop the boy from doing something that he might regret.
*
Nicolas was now staring at the dead body of a bald man. The expression on his face was full of disdain. His shoes were in a small pond of his blood.