—Riley Woods had proved himself an amazing jester.
The failed star, someone who was meant to amuse the Forgotten King in his battle against his fleshly desires; Riley had unknowingly stepped onto the stage, becoming a foolish jester.
Opening his eyes, waking up after the intense battle, Riley stood over the dead body of the servant of Ghira, not feeling any better. Rather, the urge to kill which ought to have been sated by the taking of another human being's life—
Huh…?
Deeply, he wanted to kill. His body trembled, his mouth watered, and he desired to kill. And yet, had he not just killed?
"What the, why isn't—hk."
"I quite dislike infighting," the Forgotten King calmly stated. "It would be troublesome if my servants killed each other. Thus, the only people that can satiate their urge is people who are not under my command."
Plainly, it had been revealed. The compulsion of murder which Riley had wished to relieve by the taking of a servant's life had not gone away.
"—N-no, that's…"
"Absurd," he wanted to call it, not having the strength to finish. He looked over his body, finding himself healed. After being devoured and shredded by hundreds of teeth, he was utterly unharmed.
"It would be troublesome if a servant of mine got shot in this era and died—how lowly of a servant that would be! In this modern era, firearms are all the rage. To prevent such pitiful deaths, my servants heal quickly."
Riley stepped away from the man's corpse, finding it disgusting. Within his stomach, a deep and rumbling sensation swarmed. Next, his throat forced it up, and Riley fell to his knees, vomiting onto the floor.
Tears in his eyes, he sniffled as he coughed the excess out, looking at the man's body. Unflinching, his eyes stared upon the corpse. The open caverns inside his flesh, the drying viscera, and the spillage of brain matter from the final strike—abhorrent.
Disturbed, Riley turned away, holding one hand over his mouth and walking away. He wanted to run out of the house. He wanted to leave. And yet, with a torn open shirt, bloody hands and his DNA on the floor, his body went still with fear.
To avoid getting caught, he would have to—
"Because I'm so considerate, I've made it much, much easier for my servants to get away with my calling. All footage on security cameras, DNA—those things are removed from the world."
"Gh… w-why are you telling me this?" Riley asked, looking up as though Ghira was speaking to him from atop the clouds.
"You've shown me your interesting side. A failed star who fights in vain against his true self—only to get caught by the police. That's far, far from interesting. The core purpose of my servants is to entertain me; you're a shiny new toy, and I want to use you for everything you've got."
It was laid bare. Because Riley's pain was amusing, he was helped.
"Though, don't expect my protection. I'm the king who watches you make a fool of yourself, not the writer of the play. Whether you live or die, it truly does not matter."
Clenching his teeth, balling up his fists, Riley leaned against the front door, filled with anger. A fool, he was being played for a fool. And there was nothing he could do about it.
Almost nothing.
"Then," Riley began, his palm bleeding from his nails embedding into it. "I'll kill them all."
Ghira remained silent, allowing Riley to look up, a pained laugh escaping his throat.
"All of your servants have been killing people—innocent people. Then, if that's the case… I'll kill them all. No matter how many there are, I'll kill them."
Declaring war upon the servants of Ghira, the failed star known as Riley Woods resolved himself.
…
"Is that so? How amusing."
Hearing Ghira's voice, Riley turned to face the bathroom. Entering inside, he turned on the sink, his eyes wandering to his reflection.
With the sound of running water in his ears, he looked at his face.
His almond eyes were a dark brown. It's often said that the eyes were the windows into the soul. Then, if it was so, just what could one make out of his?
Half-lidded, they were unmistakably exhausted. Despite proclaiming his intent to hunt down and kill the Forgotten King's servants for the good of others, both body and mind were weak.
His urge. The urge to hurt others still remained in his flesh, and he attempted to struggle against it. Yet, he was too weak. Far too—
"Knock knock knock."
His eyes widening, he blinked and turned off the water. Preparing for a fight, he summoned [Bleeding] and left the bathroom. Lumbering over to the front door, Riley looked through the peephole, seeing a man. A typical suburban man—white with a blue Hawaiian shirt and a baseball cap over his head.
Gently opening the door, Riley looked at the man.
"U-uh, hello?" Riley asked, to which the man raised a brow upon seeing him.
"Hm? Hey, who're you? I heard a lot of thuds and—well, y'know… glass breaking. Is John home?" The man asked, and Riley's eyes winced.
"Oh! Um, er, yeah, he's—hk."
The compulsion. His mouth watering as if an animal ready to eat, Riley's eyes shot down towards the floor, biting on his lips. His flesh deeply, inherently, craved.
"Uh, kid, you alright?" The man asked, grabbing the door. "Matter of fact—John would let me in.
Pressing the door fully open, the man entered inside. Riley, trying to hold himself back, foolishly let him do so, as the man took a few steps inside. Riley closed the door behind him, still clutching the bloody knife in his hand.
"John! Bud, you alright?" The neighbor asked, continuing to move forward as Riley grabbed his sleeve. "H-hey! Let go!"
The neighbor shouted at him, trying to push Riley away, yet Riley's grip was too tight to remove. The neighbor's head turning towards the kitchen, he saw the spillage of blood from beyond the counter.
"Huh?" He vocalized, trying to move forward. Yet, Riley would not let go.
—He heard struggles and screams, the sound of glass breaking, and upon trying to find his friend, found a suspicious teenager and a puddle of blood.
His mind instantly grasping the danger he was in, the neighbor jolted, staring at Riley. Finally noticing the knife in Riley's hands, he was paralyzed for a moment in his fear, seeing the red smears along the weapon.
"I…"
Riley's vision went blurry with tears.
"—I'm sorry…!"
Unable to control himself, Riley plunged the knife through the man's skull, ending his life instantly.
…
Satiated.
Riley Woods pitifully wept on the wooden floor, only one hand and two knees to support himself. His free hand obscuring half his face, Riley continued to weep, his eyes stinging in pain from his tears.
I wanted to save someone.
Anyone, I just wanted to save someone. I wanted to help. I didn't want to, well, I didn't want to be worthless anymore.
Riley Woods was a failure. Once seemingly talented, he had grown up to be accurately described as "unrealized potential." Even if the people in his life wished to tell him otherwise, that core truth was one which he knew better than anyone.
Not a single person in this entire world knew the depths of his incompetence.
I wanted to prove that my life wasn't a burden. And yet, and yet, I've gone and…
His eyes trained upon the corpse, the unrelenting pulses of blood which spurred from the many wounds Riley had inflicted upon the innocent man in order to satiate his urges, it was far too gruesome.
Seeing the mutilation of the human body in videos or movies simply could not compare to the reality which Riley saw before him.
Hanging his head low, Riley summoned [Bleeding] in his hand, gently holding it up to his throat.
I can't go home. One day, I might hurt Joey, or mom, or dad, or even Nina. I can't go home. I can't go to school either. I can't control myself, and if I hurt them… I'll never be able to forgive myself. I absolutely won't ever forgive myself.
Sniffling, Riley clasped the knife with both hands, closing his eyes.
This time—this time, I have to, I have… I have to resolve myself. I have to be firm, I must… I have to.
—This time, I absolutely need to die.
To save everyone, he would have to end his own life. To save the lives of everyone he cared for, to protect others, to stop being such a burden—absolutely, he had to do this.
This time, fully committed, Riley Woods plunged the knife into his neck.
—And yet, nothing had happened.
Flinching in the expectancy of pain, Riley unsummoned [Bleeding]. Coughing and holding his neck, he groaned and crawled away, expecting the lethal blow to have been struck. However, in the absence of blood, he grasped it.
[Bleeding] was not a weapon which could be used against him.
"Gh, hk!" He grunted, coughing and looking down.
Up and down. His chest expanded and contracted, his breaths labored as he had expected death to be upon him. Still alive, Riley Woods dug his thumb into his finger, pitifully sobbing.
—The one time he had gathered the courage to finally put an end to his existence, he had been saved.
Yet, even still, the fear of death lingered within him. Fearing death, he had pushed past the fear to reach the outcome, only to be saved. Acting upon it, yet succumbing to it, that fear had grown even deeper.
I don't, I don't want to die…
Dying was scary. Even if it was the only answer, it was still resolutely terrifying.
I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry.
Pressing his forehead against the blood-soaked ground, Riley asked for forgiveness. For he knew his continued existence would lead to the deaths of others. It was inevitable.
Unmistakably, it was inevitable.
…
Returning home, the teenager saw his parents had come home for the night.
"Hey Riley! Where were you off to?" His mother asked in a sweet, gentle voice. Riley looked down to the floor, unsure of how to answer.
"I, um… I just went for a walk," he meekly answered, and the woman raised a brow.
"Hm? Honey, what's wrong?" She concernedly asked, to which Riley shrugged his shoulders.
"Uh, nothing. I'm just tired."
Such an obvious lie. The woman frowned slightly, wondering how to respond.
"Well, if you ever want to talk about it—I'm here for you, okay? Come eat."
Riley softly nodded his head, going to eat dinner. Oftentimes, he skipped meals, as even if he was hungry, he absolutely despised eating. His mother hadn't wished to push too hard on the problem, yet in times like this, she resolved herself to do what she could.
Eating dinner, Riley's phone went off. He checked it, finding a text from a friend—or rather, his only friend.
"Wanna hang out after school tomorrow?" They asked.
"Maybe, not sure yet," he replied, putting his phone away and forcing his dinner into his mouth.
If I do hang out with her, then I might hurt her. I don't want to hurt her. Nina isn't worthless like I am. She helps others when I can't. That's why… I… I don't want to hurt her.
Nina, a friend of his since childhood. Through thick and thin, they had stuck together, luckily not moving too far apart and being able to stay together in the same school.
A girl who was well liked by everyone for being cute and kind, she was perhaps the opposite of Riley.
"Well, how's school going?" His dad asked, and Riley shrugged his shoulders.
"It's alright. My grades are fine, it's really just, y'know, fine."
"Mm… well, Joey told me you dropped a knife to the ground and ran out of the house. Mind explaining that?" His dad pressed, and Riley was left silent, sweating in fear of being caught.
"Um… I was sick. C-can we talk about this another time? I'm really not feeling well."
His urge returning to him, Riley once more wished to kill. Yet, he absolutely refused to hurt his family, choosing to excuse himself from the table. "I-I'm going to bed. Um, goodnight!"
He scurried away to his room, closing the door and locking it. Hiding underneath the covers, he hugged his head, closing his eyes as the urge continued to assail him.
I won't hurt them. I don't want to hurt them. I don't want to hurt them, I absolutely cannot hurt them. If I do that, then—then I have to die! No matter what, if I hurt them… I absolutely…
"—Hk."
Wanting to die, being unable to—everything, absolutely everything, was too much to bear.
I just… I just want to sleep. For now, please… please, just let me rest. Just for a second.
Hugging his pillow, Riley Woods fell asleep shortly after.