Prologue
'How...did it come to this...'
A young man in around his twenties is lying face down on the mud mixed with blood and rain. The front of his white shirt was dyed reddish brown. While his back was completely soaked, revealing his most vulnerable side. Perhaps due to the heavy downpour, his once messy black hair is drenched and straightened, covering his facial features.
'To think...I would get...betrayed...'
His entire body shivers slightly, probably a natural response to the coldness that he is experiencing. Or perhaps he is frightened by the prospect of death. Perhaps both.
'Am I really...going to die...'
The left half of his face is covered in mud. While the large wound on his stomach is excruciatingly painful, draining his strength both physically and mentally. With each second, his consciousness wanes. To stop himself from losing consciousness, he opens his usable eye weakly. His once shiny agate eye filled with resilience and determination is now murky and hollow, only resignation could be seen from it.
As the temperature of his body continues to drop, he groans softly. Squeezing his last bit of strength, he gritted his teeth and pushes himself up slowly using both of his hands. Suddenly, however, his strength that he once had confidence in failed him. His arms shake violently as fatigue looms over his entire body. Coupled with the muddy ground, his hands slipped as his entire body follows. A small splash of mud mixed with blood and rain flew outwards, while the person that had caused this in question lie down helplessly.
'Ha...haha...I can't even trust...my own strength...'
Leaving behind a simple line embedded with a deeper meaning, the young man finally...drew his last breath...
...
...
...
Or so I thought, but what is this situation I'm currently in? I even went as far as to create a monologue for our readers to, at the VERY least, understand that I'm dying.
..I...I even left a cool sounding line before I die...
...
In any case, this situation truly is peculiar. Even though I can still vividly remember the pool of blood, the excruciating pain that comes with my open stomach, and the scene of the ones I put my utmost trust in glaring at me with looks full of contempt and hatred...
Well, that's all in the past. Or should I say...I shouldn't dwell in the past.
It was just a few tens of minutes ago, though.
Back to what I was saying, I was definitely dying a few minutes ago. No, I am certain that I died. So why...why am I waking up on my bed that should've been from a long time ago?
