"What the… fuck?"
Removing the saliva building up in his throat, Riley once more flickered with the light switch. Still standing in darkness, he decided to leave his apartment and use the lighting from the hallways.
Opening the front door, he was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of blood. The smell of rusted metal and bloody entrails filling his nostrils, he gagged and shut the door.
What the…
"Eugh…"
Trying to call the police, he found that he had no service. Trying repeatedly, only to be met with nothing, he spat out some profanities before holding his forearm over his nose, using his long-sleeved shirt as a sort of gasmask.
Taking a step out into the hallway, he immediately saw the drywall had been replaced by metal, which had rusted. Upon his very first step,
"W-woaah, shit!"
Slipping some, his shoes splashed against the liquid on the floor. The ground was an endless series of puddles, and upon feeling the stickiness of his shoe pressing off the ground, he understood why he smelt blood.
Walking in the inch-deep puddles, Riley turned off his phone's flashlight. Although, the lights in the hallway weren't that great either. Much dimmer than he last remembered, they were merely serviceable in letting him not bump into anything.
What's going on? Where am I? Is this a dream? What's happening?
What he saw before him was, unmistakably, unnatural. Checking the time on his phone, he found a leap of several weeks.
Last I remembered, it was… about the fourth of October, wasn't it? Then, why is it almost Halloween!?
This isn't right, it can't be right. Am I in a nightmare?
Yet, he had felt pain. The pain of his breath constricted by the man's hands.
It can't be a dream. Plus, the smell is too strong for it to be that way. Either way, I need to get the fuck out of this place. It smells like shit, and I don't know where my family is.
Heading to the elevator, Riley pressed a button, awaiting the elevator's arrival. Yet, even after he waited for over a minute, he heard no machinery or anything of that sort.
Sighing, and inhaling into his long sleeve, he made his way down the hallway. The ground was soft, like the carpet had been drowned in the blood he stepped through. Feeling disgusted by even being in this area, he felt a pain beginning to form off to the side of his head.
Reaching the stairwell, he tried to open the door. With it being locked, he raised his leg and tried to kick it down, though he only ended up shoving his light body backwards against the metal wall, a metallic thud vibrating around him.
Clicking his tongue, he turned to face the hallway where he'd come from. Only, he was not alone.
A pale man. Staggering towards Riley slowly, he was cut open. Two slashes to the wrists. Two slashes to the inner thigh. Two slashes to the carotid artery.
Blood spilling across his chest, hands, and legs. The man wielded a bloody knife in his hand.
"Hk."
This world isn't what I remember. Just… What even is this place…?
Trying to open the locked door once more, Riley failed and gave up. Swallowing his spit, he pulled his pants up and began to walk towards the bloody man. Getting closer, he saw that the man's face was removed. Nose, lips, eyes—all of which were removed, leaving behind only a pale gray all across.
There was a sensation in his chest. Or rather, all across his body. Stemming from his mind, Riley felt a discomfort in his flesh, and he knew the way to resolve it.
"I'm going to kill you."
Pulling his arm down, Riley put his hands up. To guard his face with his fists, he began walking over, staring intently at the bleeding man. Disgusted yet strangely helpless to resist staring, Riley watched over the bleeding wounds, enthralled by their depth.
About ten feet. That was the distance between the two.
Then, Riley sprinted. Rushing the bloody man down, the monster slashed wildly with all its strength. Riley blocked the cuts, crashing into the figure and toppling it over. Climbing atop it, he was slashed repeatedly in the chest, forcing him to use both hands to pin the arm down to the ground.
"Hk, fuck!!"
Cursing in pain, Riley fought to get the knife out of its hands, taking it for himself and instantly stabbing it down into the creature's skull.
They returned to their normal, pale-yellow color, and the ground lost the bloody puddles. Yet, it was still an unfamiliar scenery.
"You Deserve To Bleed."
That was the message engraved, written in blood, countless times across the walls.
"..."
Silent, Riley scowled, keeping hold of the knife and dragging the bladed edge down the middle of the creature's head, eviscerating whatever laid inside its head.
Ripping the knife out, the walls returned to their nightmarish image, the metal rust and guts filling his nostrils. With a groan, the teenager covered his nose, looking down at the monster. A line. He had drawn a line, a deep carving which enamored him.
Then, from the forcible line he had etched into the figure, it spoke.
"Worthless human being, you use others for your ownbenefit. It takesgreat effort to love something like you."
"...You…"
It wasn't as though that was anything new. After all, Riley was more-than-aware of just how hard it was to actually love him, so much so that he believed it impossible.
His parents and Joey, didn't they only love him because he was their blood? If not for that, they would call him a despicable piece of trash, someone who contributed nothing to them.
And then, there was Nina.
It's only because we're childhood friends. She's a kind girl, anyways. She loves everyone.
When Riley wasn't standing on a three legged stool, the three legs being his personality, history, and familial ties—take away two, or even just one of those legs, and he'd collapse.
It was natural. Riley was a truly low human being. Or, perhaps, subhuman would be a better fit.
Looking down on the corpse, Riley silently walked away. Down the hall, he went to the other stairwell and opened the door. The stairs were normal.
Quickly closing the door, Riley was able to breathe fine, inhaling the fresh scent of well-maintained carpet and walls. He headed downstairs, aiming to escape the apartment to perhaps go to the police station, or somehow try to find Joey or his parents.
Walking down, walking down. Walking down, walking down, walking down, walking down. Walking down, walking down, walking down, walking——,
"Shit…"
Having been walking for several minutes, Riley did not reach the bottom floor. Peering over the railing, he found a great abyss in the middle. The stairs did not seem to end.
To make it worse, the doors seemed to be removed, as did the windows.
Unable to discern time of day or his own ability to exit, Riley's forehead went itchy with sweat. Walking, walking, he continued to walk.
"Am I stuck?" He whispered to himself, looking back up.
Maybe the exit is out there? It's better than wasting my time going down an endless staircase.
Changing directions, Riley began to head upstairs. Once he turned the corner, he bumped into someone.
Quite literally, his body and theirs collided, as he took a step backwards, reaching for his knife.
"Hk, wha…"
Looking directly at the person, he found a woman with tied back black hair. Yes, her face was overwhelmingly beautiful to him, such that it forced him to look away, the heat on his face intensifying.
"W-woah… Nina, what're you doing here?"
"Ah… Riley, Riley, Riley."
His name repeated in her lips, she walked over to him, reaching out her hand. Touching his neck, she stared into his eyes. Fear overwhelmed him as he tried to back away, yet she kept a hold of his neck. Or rather, on what he wore on it.
"...It's a cute necklace."
"Y-yeah."
She held the black cat necklace, and reached for her own white cat necklace. Walking him backwards, he backed into the wall, and she connected their necklaces for the first time in years.
"Nina…? What're you doing?"
"Riley… I love you."
His instinctive thought being that to call her a liar, he was left speechless. Surely, then, this must be a dream.
"T-that's… w-why? That doesn't… What is this place?"
"I don't know. I don't care. I don't mind."
Placing her hands on his shoulders, she rested her head upon his chest, and his vision went blurry. Sniffling, his paralyzed hand wanted to reach for his knife. Still, he did not know what to do.
"Riley," she whispered into his ear, and he received a sudden jolt of unease. "Do you hate me? Do you?"
"W-what? No, of course not, I don't… I don't hate you. I don't."
"Then, tell me you love me. Whisper it, shout it, declare it and do everything you can. Show me."
Clearing his throat, Riley's heart accelerated, having been thrust upon the stage without warning.
"I… I love you. I love you, s-s-so much. I love you more than anything, I love you because you love me, I love you because you're beautiful, I love you because… I… I just love you."
She pulled her head from his chest, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes.
"Wring my neck."
"..."
His hand pulled away from his knife, he wrapped his fingers around her throat. One thumb atop the other, where the Adam's Apple would be on a male, he gently squeezed her. His breathing growing heavier and heavier, he felt warm inside.
Her soft skin, he was grasping it. If he put more effort, then, couldn't he constrict the blood to her head? If he wanted, he could probably strangle her to death, if it came down to it. Right?
Could she stop him? Would she even try to stop him?
"Tell me you love me. More. Harder."
"I… I love you! I love you, I really do! W-when there was no one who could conceivably love me, you were there! Ever since we were kids, I thought you were super, r-really, incredibly admirable! I admired you, I wanted to be kind like you! I never thought of you as a girl, y-you were always just a friend… b-but now, but now… I really, I really think of you… 'in that way.'"
She held her hands up, softly grasping his wrists as she made it obvious she was struggling to breathe.
"Tell me more."
"A-and… I… you love me, right? You love me too, right? Right? You love me?"
"I do. I love you, Riley."
"Then… I… I wanted to die."
A small grin curved across Nina's lips, as she looked up. His eyes closed, he spoke without wanting to see the world around him. Exposing his neck freely, he allowed her to wrap her hands around his own neck.
"You did? Why?"
The sensation of her slim, soft fingers laced around his neck filled him with a secretive, guilty joy.
"I… I was just… I was so worthless. I thought that, well, it was impossible for me to really… help anyone. I wasn't like you. I wasn't sociable, or attractive, or… or anything like that, really. I was weak. No one cared about me… but you. You were always there, weren't you? If it's you, then—"
"...That is pathetic, isn't it?"
His grip weakening, he opened his eyes to see Nina's disgusted expression.
"H-huh?"
"I mean, I was only there with you because my parents told me to be kind to you. When you put it into words… You're worthless, aren't you?"
Staring down at her, Riley shed tears.
"W-what? No, no, Nina, I love you, remember?"
"So? You never do anything to show it. If you really loved me, wouldn't you help me more? Wouldn't you do anything for anyone?"
"T-that's…"
"All you do is make a shitty meal for your little brother every day. Outside of that, aren't you just contributing nothing to the world? It's an insult to say you want to be more like me. What are you here for?"
"I… I don't know. Listen, I'm sorry, okay?"
Immediately removing his hands from her neck, Riley put them into the air. "I'm sorry, let's just, let's just not—"
"You're stupid. You're weak. You're too fragile to be alive, and you know it."
"Hk."
"It takes strength to live, and you don't have it. You have nothing going from you. You are not a human being."
He knew. He knew that better than anyone else in this entire world.
Even if Nina were to repeat her words ten-thousand times over, it would not be enough to show that her understanding surpassed his.
She grabbed his necklace, and ripped it off of him. The sound of a small chain breaking pierced his eardrums, as she sharply turned around.
"I'm giving this to someone else. In fact, I think there is a man I know who deserves this more than you do."
Undeniably, Riley understood.
Every last word she spoke, he understood. And yet,
"Oh…"
Even if he understood, it was overwhelmingly painful to hear. Sadness, anger, fear, betrayal, hatred—surely, he had amassed a hurricane of emotions within his heart.
Unsure of how to express them, he did not dare mutter a word of complaint.
The feelings he had kept hidden within himself, they had been extended and allowed to enter the outside world. Of course, as he expected, they were immediately held against him, causing a pointless worry which made him immediately wish he had never uttered them to begin with.
If he told his parents, they would get worried, and that would restrict his future possibilities, making it harder for him to actually kick the stool.
And, now that he told Nina, it was inevitable that she would disregard them, and in fact even be repulsed by them.
As she walked down the stairs, he looked down at her, his body feeling unbearably weak. His eyes swam, glancing around the room as he felt lightheaded and useless.
Then, it faded to black.
…
Sobbing. He heard sobbing.
Blinking repeatedly, he felt a hard object in his hand. Looking down, there was a knife. Stained in blood, and accompanied by labored breaths.
Glancing to his side, he saw a beautiful woman. Tears streaming down her face, she was indeed very beautiful. And yet, when he looked down at her bod
"AHH! SHIT!"
Shrieking, not having the time to even collect his thoughts, Riley jumped up, backing away and slamming against the wall. Dissected, disemboweled, she had been removed from the organs surrounding her abdominal area.
Her thin arms clutching at the area, rubbing up against her large intestines, her breaths rang in his eardrums like a loud bell, not obscuring their pained intent.
The corpse—no, the still breathing, suffering woman that he'd known since childhood, it was unmistakably alive.
What the fuck? What's going, on, what's…
Gagging, he fell to his knees and expelled the contents of his stomach onto the carpet. A burning in his throat rising with his vomit, he looked down at the ground. On his hands and knees, he had identified the source of the fatal wound inflicted upon Nina.
Blood covering his hands, wrists, and lower arm. Hers.
The perpetrator of the assault was unmistakably himself.
No, that's… that can't be. I was, I didn't, I didn't do anything. I was just… I was… why, what happened?
Looking at her, as she writhed in agony, he sobbed alongside her.
Pain. As the assailant, in his unconscious activity, he had plunged the knife from one edge of her waist, and torn the knife across until it reached the other side. Disembowelment—his subconscious had chosen that as the execution method.
She had cursed him. She had called him worthless, she had taken his feelings and disregarded them oh so easily.
And, perhaps it was foolish, but it was something that he only just now recognized.
"...You're not actually Nina, are you?"
Nina was a kindhearted girl. Even if he had his doubts that she would actually like him, he knew one thing.
"Nina's a kind girl. You weren't."
Yet, as the excuse-of-a-Nina turned her pained gaze upon him, he felt an extreme discomfort. Even just the sight of Nina in pain was enough to make him uncomfortable.
Truly, he should have known it wasn't Nina when she first said she loved him.
"...Yeah. Nina wouldn't say that."
But, even still, he did not want "Nina" to suffer. There were few people in the world who felt as connected to the pain of others as Riley did.
After all, he was someone who processed pain so intensely that it drove him to death as an escape.
Then, to alleviate her pain, he raised the knife into the air.
A clean cut. Or rather, a decisive blow. Behind the eyes, there was undoubtedly the brain. And, if the brain were destroyed, death would follow. Or, at the very least, consciousness would end, and the journey towards death would be an easy one.
Wiping his mouth of vomit, he got to his feet, walking over to fake, and crouched down over her.
"...This is… all I can do."
Riley was a lowest-of-the-low subhuman. But even he was able to manage this task.
A suicide assistant. Yes, he had taken that role for himself.
His lips curling into a frown, he began to sniffle.
Death was a solemn thing.
Even if he clung to it as a relief for his burdens and lack of future, when the time came to turn the knife to another—against someone who was truly a human being, death had become a grim reality which pained him so.
Looking into her glossy eyes, which seemed unbearably pained,
"...Y-you'll… you'll be okay."
Wasting not a second further, he plunged the knife through her eye, and directly into her brain.
Her arms, which desperately clung to her organs, went limp. Lifeless, they stopped moving on a macro level, small twitches of her fingers working on a smaller scale.
He ripped the knife out from her head, and put it inside his pocket.
Why. Why was death such a troublesome thing?
Riley Woods had longed for it, believing it to be his salvation. Yet, when someone else died, he felt unbearably sorry for them. Perhaps envious, he suddenly wished for himself to be the only one who died.
Shaken up. Hugging his arms, his breathing becoming unsteady, Riley sat in silence, looking down at the grotesque image.
He was this distraught over the death of even one fake.
Someone who, by all accounts, did not act in accordance with reality. Someone who cursed him and crushed him, even her death caused pain to him.
Isn't it horrifying, then, if even one person dies?
Shakily climbing to his feet, he went down the steps. There, he found the exit.
—
It was a cold night.
Exhausted, he leaned against the wall of his apartment, looking up at the pitch-black sky. All he could see was the moon. Fidgeting with the two necklaces he now wore, connecting the black and white cats together.
What is this place…
Looking around, he saw the grand world. A world in which he was now a murderer. A world in which the impossible had been made constant.
What is the way to escape?
Death, no doubt.
That habit seeped through, and he resolved himself. Standing up, he walked down the street. The world was now devoid of all other human beings, even if it seemed otherwise. An unbearably lonely world he had been sent to.
Marching, continuing his movements, he reached a parking garage. Entering the working elevator, he pressed the button.
The trembling elevator carried him upwards, his vision flickering with bloody walls. At first, it startled him, and made him jump. Yet, after the third time it happened, the effect grew weak, and he simply sighed whenever it happened.
Finally reaching the top, the elevator doors opened. Stepping out, he saw the parking garage was utterly barren of any vehicles.
His eyes narrowing, he took out the knife and looked at it. Seeing the blood and small chunks which stuck to it, he turned his gaze and dropped it to the floor. Hearing its rattling, he turned away and walked over to the ledge.
That's right. This was the plan from the start, wasn't it?
Having planned his suicide for years, he'd narrowed the methods down.
[Hanging] was not an option. It was painless, assuming he opted to strangle himself. But after doing research, he realized that he didn't want his family to walk in to see his bloated face and swaying corpse. It would be a burden to mom and dad, living with that.
[Bleeding] was not an option. It caused pain, and assuming he did it in a bathtub, that would also be troublesome. He did not want to make a mess for his parents.
[Crashing] was not an option. He wanted his family to be able to sell the car afterwards; wrecking it would be a burden.
[Overdose] was not an option. For some reason, the idea of poisoning himself as he slowly died, his brain being tampered with—yeah, no thanks.
[Drowning] was not an option. There was always the chance he might be saved, and the brain damage from minutes of oxygen deprivation would ruin his life and make it a possibility that he would continue to spend years being a burden his parents cared too much to let go of.
[Shooting] was not an option. Though popular among men, Riley did not want to make a mess for his family. As well, the bullet might go through his head and hit a wall. Property damage would just make things worse.
[Falling], therefore, was the only option.
If he landed on his head, it would be painless. His freefall would hopefully be a thrilling final experience. It would likely hurt others who saw his state, but he wasn't sure how to fix that.
Standing atop the concrete ledge, he looked down upon the world. The wind blew gently, and his heart began to race. Drying his sweaty palms on his pants, he reflected.
I'm scared.
Recognizing his own fear, he took a deep inhale. Letting it simmer in his lungs, he then exhaled, calming his nerves.
It'll be fine. After all, this is probably a dream. And, if this is reality, then it'll be fine regardless.
I'm not a good person. I'm a terrible man, who constantly declares he wants to help others, but never does anything to help anyone. Someone like that, who contributes nothing to society… yeah, it's better off if they're gone.
His mind flashed with the reactions of everyone around him.
Of course, having repeated these thoughts countless times since childhood, he had developed an estimate on how everyone would react.
His mother would be sad, and she'd cry a lot. His father would be in pain, but he was a strong man, so he would be able to endure it, and comfort his mother when he had to.
Joey was young; he wouldn't understand what was happening. It would be as if Riley simply vanished from his life. Ergo, he would be okay in the end. He wouldn't be in pain for too long, and he could live a good life.
Nina would likely cry. She might even grow to hate him. But that was okay. She had a lot of friends, she was a strong girl who could seek help from her friends and support systems. She'd forget about him eventually.
As for the general populace of his school, they wouldn't care. In fact, they might even mock him after he died, using his name as a sort of slang for suicide in the following weeks, or as an insult against others. But he didn't mind. He wouldn't be alive to get upset.
His life really didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
Those around him would be upset, but it's not as if that was anything stand-out about his case. He was by no means an exception when he knew he would be leaving behind those who loved him.
Yet, even still. Even if he was loved, that was not a strong enough reason.
Looming over the great fall, Riley's racing heart filled his ears.
Seventeen years of idiocy.
It's all one big cycle anyways. I become sad for a year, I become happy for a few months, I become sad for a year, and it repeats.
—That's not a life worth living.
I'm not even interested in the future to begin with. I'll work a dead-end job I don't give a shit about, and for what? For nothing.
——That isn't a life worth living.
I'm not even a human being. I'm short and ugly, I can't even talk to people correctly. No matter where I go, I'll be an outcast who's looked down on. I'll never find love, Nina will probably move on from me and we'll eventually split up and stop being friends. I'll be alone.
"———That… that absolutely cannot be a life worth living."
I'm fundamentally broken, someone who simply cannot be happy. All because I, myself, as a person—am simply too weak.
"Then, as long as I can die…"
A weak voice which easily broke, had escaped his lips.
As long as he could die, he would be able to escape this unsalvageable mess. As long as he took just one step forward, he would be able to—
"Woah. Hey, don't do that."
Turning around, Riley looked down. Finding a short, ugly youth gently approaching him, his brows furrowed.
Indeed, seeing that person's shaggy black hair filled him with confusion and repulsion.
"...We've really gotta talk this out," Riley lightheartedly said, looking up at Riley standing on that fateful ledge, an awkward smile on his face.