Doing something

Hal didn't know what to do. He was homeless, lost, and without purpose. He had nothing and wanted nothing more than to die. In recent days, he had attempted suicide multiple times, but his body always healed itself. He felt the painful process of healing, but it was even more painful to be unable to die peacefully. Now, he desired death, but he couldn't die because of a deal he had willingly accepted. Evil had granted him that deal at the worst possible moment. If he had died happily alongside his wife, he wouldn't have accepted it. But he had to die in war. An arrow pierced through his thick armor, hitting his heart. Perhaps that arrow came from a friend or an enemy.

In recent days, he had been having dreams about his past life, although they were confusing, showing fragments of his forgotten life. But all those dreams were only related to the place where he died. It seemed as if someone controlled his dreams, reminding him that he could have chosen to die in peace.

And in recent days, he had been observing these alleyways. The people here feared him and kept their distance. He had claimed a small corner for himself in this marginalized place, completely dark except for a few fires where the vagabonds gathered, although it made them forget the dangers that lurked there—murderers, corrupt individuals, thieves, madmen, and addicts to a drug created by the nobles to exploit these forgotten souls. He witnessed murders, robberies, kidnappings, and sexual acts, but he did nothing to stop them. He only observed, and in doing so, he contributed more than just watching.

Until today, while observing from the shadows, he saw armed individuals with unsheathed swords and armor, leaving a corpse covered in a large cloth bag. He approached, feeling curious without knowing why. After all, it was just a corpse. As Hal looked at the body, he stared for several minutes, "It's just a child," he said in a broken voice. The body had multiple bruises all over, and lash marks on his back. This child, who wasn't from the alleyways, had suffered all of this. What pained Hal the most was that he could have done something. He saw some of the street dwellers taking him away, but he did nothing because it wasn't his problem. He could have saved the child from this terrible fate.

Now, the soldier of the dark lord was reflecting beside the dead child, looking at his terrified face. Hal could have done something, but he didn't because it wasn't his problem. Now, Hal thought, is this all that happens in these alleyways? Pure evil, even towards the most innocent? Though with a glimmer of hope, he advanced further into the alley.

He only found more bags, all containing children. Some were missing body parts—fingers, eyes, nose, tongue, toes. This disturbed Hal's mind. He believed that even those with the fewest resources could experience happiness. But he had only looked forward, never looking back to truly see what was happening. He had only followed orders like a dutiful soldier.

"Could this disaster have been avoided?" Those words came from his rough and gravelly voice, filled with guilt, although he was only guilty of the death of one child. That didn't make him feel any better. He was certain that he could have prevented all this unnecessary harm, but he didn't know about all of this.

With this revelation, the soldier of the dark lord retired to rest his disturbed and damaged mind, preparing for his next move—to avenge the children.

Now, the soldier felt the consequences of doing nothing...