Contract Generation?

Staring up into the night sky, a coldness over Randolph's body.

It was a dark coldness, something much more powerful than depression, yet much more profound than simple sadness. He was familiar with the emotion, having experienced it once before several weeks after his father had disappeared. It was an emotion he could only describe as despair.

The world grew darker around him as he lay in the pit, and he couldn't pull up the energy to move. It wasn't just moving, but even controlling his emotions became a struggle from the increasing heaviness that weighed down on his body.

If it had been any better, he could perhaps even wallow in his self-pity, but all he felt now was indifference.

That indifference was perhaps the most prominent trait of this emotion called despair. His brain worked slowly, barely forming thoughts. He could register the sounds of the world around him, of the distant honks of cars or small animals nearby, but it was like he was listening to them through a filter. It was as if the shadows around him had gained their own shadow, that was how dark the world currently appeared in his eyes.

The only source of light left was of the blue moon in the sky, floating quietly and unmoving. It continued shining even though Randolph's world had essentially ended, as if it would continue doing so no matter what. It vividly reminded him of the saying 'life goes on', but in a rather spiteful manner.

Inside of the deep hole, the trees and foliage above him seemed to grow as they loomed over him. It was as if the very earth was trying to swallow him alive.

"…" Randolph glanced towards the large dirt pile sitting near the hole before he slowly stood up.

Walking over to it, he stuck both of his hands inside of it before pulling, grabbing armfuls of dirt as he filled the hole up with him still inside it.

What the fuck did I do to deserve this? Any of this? 

As the young man worked, he reflected on his life's experiences. Getting up after being beaten down was a mark of true strength, that was something he had believed his entire life, but this felt like an almost entirely different manner. It was as if there was an unseen force working against him, as if someone up there was working double time to ensure that what could go wrong, went wrong.

What did they do to deserve their happiness? Why am I unable to obtain mine? Is this what I get for being born a laborer? Am I just a lowly, uneducated man who deserves his treatment? 

Of course it wasn't true, but Randolph, in his despair, fell into the belief entirely.

Uneducated, poor, lowly, broke, disgusting, incompetent, your own fault. These were all insults that Randolph had heard before over the course of his life from people like Trevor who seemed to hold an innate dislike for people like him. These were the insults that he felt as if he was succumbing to, as if they were burrowing themselves into his mind.

But if they were from pathetic men like Trevor, then they held basically no significance to Randolph.

He of all people deserved to judge Randolph the least, and Randolph wouldn't take any of his bullshit to heart.

The most insulting and hurtful thing to the young man were the people who showed him sympathy or pity. They were people who believed that he didn't deserve the treatment he got, people who would offer to lend a helping hand to him if they saw him in need. But without knowing it, their gazes were the most harmful thing.

Sympathy? Pity? It was as if they were merely reaffirming the insults, especially since they lived such carefree lives, not knowing how it felt. In a way, it was even worse than just simply being ignored. It was as if he wasn't being treated as a normal human. It was much more so for Randolph, who held a great deal of pride in himself due to his hard-work and willpower.

It was like they were hypocrites, even though they didn't realize it themselves. Their manner of treatment showed him that deep down, they believed in all of the insults.

It was why Randolph always rejected their help, firmly standing on his own two feet as he walked in the world.

He felt a great deal of injustice as he dug, it being the most prominent emotion in his mind. Him who had worked hard and well. Him who had stood back up despite numerous devastating setbacks. Him who had upheld his and his father's morals firmly, letting his conscious be clear. What did do to deserve such a fate from the world? From its people? From the law, the Church, or even God?

The more he though, the more tired he seemed to get. The more tired he got, the more his hands slowed.

"Ugh…" It was five minutes later that he let out a groan of exertion, collapsing onto the pile of earth.

A loud sound rumbled in the distance, perhaps some sort of explosion, but the young man hardly felt it. He lay there silently with his eyes softly shut, his breathing almost imperceptible.

I'm so tired…

[Sorrow accumulated. Awakening Imminent.]

But before Randolph could slip into sleep, he could faintly hear the strange sound of what seemed to be bubbles popping as a dim orange light appeared before his eyes.

Opening his eyes slowly, Randolph lay his gaze on a floating line of text in front of him, surrounded by a small orange rectangle. It was emitting a similarly orange glow, and the text on it was bold and strong. It stood out in the dark forest, completely out of sync with the atmosphere.

"…What?"

[Contract Generation]

Upon expressing his slight curiosity, the words blurred for a split-second before shifting, morphing into the two large words.

"…" But Randolph took no action, merely sitting there as he stared at the screen.

It was only after another two minutes did the window's words blur once again.

[I can save you. Trust in me.] 

After confirming that Randolph had seen the message, it shifted back into its previous two words.

Randolph glanced down in thought, but it was only for a split second. There really wasn't much to think about, there wasn't anything he had left to lose. Touched by the words 'save you', Randolph tapped the window decisively.