Is This Hell…?

Why do things matter?

Why do things like life, death, pain, happiness, even matter? It's just our bodies deluding us into thinking they matter right? Our hormones, to be specific. Like, let's take happiness for example, if it weren't for our hormones, would happiness even be known as good? Because it's our hormones that make us have the 'feeling of good', so why would pleasure be good in the first place, if our hormones are labelling things as good for us, themselves? So then if there's nothing good or bad, then why do things matter? And that's when the puzzle satisfyingly falls together. Nothing actually matters, not life, death, money, pain, power; nothing. Things just, happen, and there's nothing really to them. Its only our hormones and emotions that 'give' things purpous, but even then, they don't really matter.

What's the point in thinking like this, you ask? Well good question, because you're right, even though it is the undeniable truth, there's not really any point in thinking like that. But that is given that you're actually living a life worth living that is. But to people like me, who have felt nothing but suffering their whole lives, this philosophy kind of helps to supress things a little. Maybe if I came across actual happiness one day, I'll let go of this philosophy for the moment…

…actually, maybe not. It's a bit hard to just toggle this truth on and off whenever you want, atleast when it's molded in your brain for long enough. Oh, but, for me there's one thing that always makes me let go of this philosophy for the moment no matter what, but I regrettably don't have any control on when it happens.

But enough of that, if you don't believe me, then I probably just look like someone trying to distract himself from something. Agonising pain, perhaps. But I think it's better if you do just believe me. Because after all, I hope you won't take this as me bragging but, I am a king that ruled an entire country, and a hero of a Great War, so I'm pretty much bound to be more wise than some joe that's been on his chair all his life.

So anyway, all great things come to an end, although arguably my life wasn't all that great, I am currently experiencing said 'end':

…

Under a breathtakingly beautiful starry night, two shadowed figures could be seen. One dismembered from the head, and lying on the ground, with its head not too far from the clean slit above the corpses Adam's apple, and one standing tall above the corpse that was fit in royal clothes, leisurely swirling a gold crown in his hands.

The man next to the corpse stayed gazing at the crown for a few seconds, before shifting his gaze and walking closer to the corpse, then bending down to collect the parted head.

"Did you pray today?" Suddenly, a breathy whisper fell on his ears, alerting him to no end. He abruptly stood up, swinging his unoccupied hand back in attempt to get the man who had somehow come close enough for an eerie whisper, all without startling a single fibre in Macduff's body.

His sudden swing was met by a resisting breeze however, as it seemed to have hit null. His worry was shortly replaced by confusion as he looked around, not finding a single thing in sight. The scene was exactly how it was when he had come here.

"Was it just my imagination? No… that was more than just an imagination…"

With a cold sweat, he decided to keep doing his business, except this time, a lot more attentive to his surroundings. He bent down again, in order to collect the parted head that he had tried to earlier, this time hopefully uninterrupted. After succeeding, he reached out to a shriveled leather bag in his back pocket, that definitely seemed like it could contain the bulky head in his hand, and brought it closer to said head.

'They say that the brain still functions for a few moments after leaving the body… but this is a bit longer than it should be no?'

As he was being fiddled around, the beheaded man's head looked at the night sky that was stroked meticulously with varying vibrant colours, with brown eyes full of life.

It was if he wasn't going through a world of pain.

'He's going to offer my head to that Malcolm, isn't he?'

Macbeth thought as the rim of the leather bag slowly but surely blocked his sight, and with this the pain that the man was feeling so unnaturally multiplied, as if the stunning Northern Lights above them was suppressing it.

No, it was suppressing it, a whole lot actually.

He decided to attempt to distract himself by thinking of what is going to happen after he dies, but that only brought him more pain, psychological pain to be specific.

'I'm going to hell aren't I…'

And so he decided to just stop thinking all together, and impatiently waited for the moment when the reaper would finally pull him out of this agonisingly slow death.

However it seemed the grim reaper wasn't in a good mood as Macbeths eyeslids shot open revealing bloodshot eyes, accompanied by the most ugly face, grimacing from the fact that his slit neck was being grinded on the gritty leather material on the bottom of the bag, that was now flooded in sweat.

"Hmm, I thought for sure that this pouch would be big enough for this, why is it not fitting??"

Macbeths killer, Macduff asked himself as he forcefully shoved Macbeth's scalp into the bag, repeatedly in short intervals.

'Seriously?! Don't you have even a slight bit of respect for the dead?!?' Macbeth thought, after having just spat a gallon of blood out of his mouth.

'…a comedy scene? So that's how they're going to end my tragedy of a life?' It almost feels like a celebration…'

Despite his quite lively thoughts, Macbeths life was quickly coming to and end now. This moment only felt much longer than it truly was.

With eyelids as heavy as lead, Macbeth relaxed his face muscles, and closed his eyes to let himself fall into the anticipated sweet embrace of death. And shortly after, he succeeded.

Or so he had hoped.

After realising that he had a body full of energy, Macbeth slowly and fearfully opened his eyes, unwilling to experience another second of that agonising death.

However, what met his eyes was the shadowed brown of a wooden ceiling, and a lamp that was a bit far a way from the centre of his vision, hanging from that same ceiling. It was a tiny bit similiar to the inside of the bag, but the lighting made him quickly realise that he wasn't in the bag anymore.

Having still not reigned over his trauma, he turned his head to the left in a stiff motion, afraid he would see Macduffs face with torture equipment held in his hands. However to his surprise and delight he saw a young lady with silver hair and similarly but slightly brighter silver pupils, turned away from him, seemingly engaged in small talk with someone at the edge of the room, as she held a beautiful smile on her face that would put any princess to shame.

His previously deafened ears began to ring profusely, and only after a few seconds of this ringing did he begin to hear the sound of what he thought was the small talk that the young lady next to him was engaged in, slowly make its way to into his ears, becoming more prominent as the seconds went by.

Soon after, the sound of a sweet yet mature voice finally reigned over the sound of the ringing.

"-es, he'll do his affinity test in a few we-"

The beaming young lady's sentence was suddenly cut by another female voice.

"Oh Miss Yelena, Sir Lucas has opened his eyes." The maid at the side of the room stated with a boring lack of tone shifting.

Hearing this, the woman who was most likely the master of the maid, flinched, and then turned around to see the face of her newborn.

Soon a large bright smile that seemed so sweet that it could rot the non-existent teeth in the babies mouth, grew on the young ladies face.

"Call Rainer quick!!" The lady excitedly ordered the maid.

"At once." The maid replied, bowing her head and then jogged out of the room.

"So cute!!!" She barely screamed.

In the midst of all this, the baby that layed still on the bed, was panicking as he thought about what was going on.

'Oh no, is this really hell? Is this innocent lady going to pick me up and throw me into an eternal flame, just to heal me before I end up dying with an isekai mothers generic healing powers!?! I change my mind, things do matter, spare me god!'