The Devil

A young man, not past his 20's lurks in the alleys of this lightless street. Patiently waiting for someone, he is memorizing a line from a famous book.

"Assumption is a mortal's chiefest enemy"

An infamous line that was originally fabricated from the famous novelist Shakespeare's "Macbeth" which was once primarily "Security is a mortal's chifest enemy" but for whatever reason he recomposed the line and found an elusive similarity between the two. Whatever these lines meant the man took it very seriously, he has been saying the former everytime he goes out to kill someone.

The man found it to be hilarious that the line truly resembled most of the situation he always gets himself into, and so he can't help but simply laugh at the subtle realization of this.

"Assuming bastards they are alright."

The man looked very pale and skinny perhaps due to malnourishment and body deficiencies which are also the factor as to why he isn't as tall as other people. A thick ragged hoodie covered the thin physique of the man making his body proportion seem out of shape or rather unusual and in the darkness he seemed to be the omen of death, lingering around the slums no matter how long it takes to take someone's life away.

Never did the killer liked being stepped on by other people, but being an individual of unfathomably low status made him get discriminated always on a daily basis by elites of the city. He killed every single one of the people who have always made his murderous urge seep out in the most horrifying ways possible, causing mass panic in the urban area. Thus the legend of The Black Reaper was born.

Multiple attempts have been made trying to apprehend the criminal that is causing the terrifying murders in the city, to execute the assassin publicly as to show justice and security to the civillians of the city.

The criminal was yet to be caught even after all the years spent trailing the tracks of him and the countless studies of his murders and methods. To this day this man is still holding the city by its neck making the already terrified citizens grim even more in his existence alone.

This particular target of his have always been in his bad side the day they were fated to meet each other, he tried to be patient with the man but it seemed like an impossible task with the man's absolutely disgusting lowly demeanor and just manners in general, it's like this man is a walking taunt for the killer.

He even got into a fight with the victim, and it is at that unfortunate day that the killer has suffered a scar that was embbed in his left chest painfully throbbing everytime his heart beats, making his existence even more of a pain.

'I can't wait to put a whole through your chest like you did mine you piece of shit.'

Today is the day that he will finally realize his revenge on the man, kill him in cold-blood, make him regret that they had ever met one another, and lastly make his death as agonizing as possible.

After waiting for quite a long time to say the least, his target has finally walked towards his domain like a bug willingly going into the maws of a venus flytrap.

The man cracked his neck, and stretched his entire body tensing up his muscles seemingly readying himself up even with the constant stinging pain of his scarred wound.

As the victim walked pass the dark slums the reaper was in, he started stalking him. With a manageable pace that the victim is walking with the killer simply adjusted his pace to be of the same speed gradually increasing it everytime a second passes.

The victim seem to catch on the upcoming threat and sped up, panic obviously setting in.

However before the victim could go out in the streets where there's people the killer simply lunged himself towards the unfortunate victim closing the huge gap in their distance in just a second.

Making the victim stumble down his knees and roll to the ground for a short amount of time the killer pinned down the man upfront revealing his dirty and messy face under the hood, cold and lifeless eyes and a menacing stare resembling that of staring at nothingness.

The face of the man filled with dread as he realized that this young man that is preparing to kill him was in fact someone he knew.

"Altair?"

Altair stared at the man with his eyes filled with no remorse and simply grinned.

"Hey fat bastard! You finally called me by my name didn't you?"

Altair is used to being called names by people of higher hierarchy and to be called his real name simply means that fear finally starts enshrouding the heart of these people.

The victim tried to resist, however Altair's appearance betrays his physical capabilities.

"Oh what? Thought I was weak or something?"

He continued to pin down the man and limit his mobility effortlessly. With a knife in his pocket he took it out and glanced at his victim.

"It truly was shit meeting a pig like you, again. I really did not want to do this for another time but you people with more of everything in this World really are just testing my damn patience."

Privileged people have more capabilities to truly live in this World, but why do some of them make it so that the World will be hell for some people? This is something Altair can't truly understand, and if it will always be like this then he might as well do something to ease his hate towards them, even for a bit. Murder.

With his left hand effortlessly holding the man down to his position and his right hand raising his knife up he is finally ready to finish off the man.

That is when suddenly the victim laughed at Altair even in his seemingly dire fate, then, a sudden static screeched and the man spoke.

"It is confirmed."

Altair looked at him with a bit of a perplexed look, however he did not let his confusion get the better of him and it only took him a second to react still not stopping him from wanting to kill the man.

And as he gestured to finally put a hole through the man's chest, the pedestrians that looked like just random walking citizens stared towards Altair's direction and pulled out a gun.

With the sudden realization that he will be shot he froze in response.

"Altair, The Black Reaper, charged with multiple murder cases we are here to arrest you under the name of the law, surrender or be shot."

Altair stopped his intents for a while and stared directly at the police officers with a lax expression smothered all over his face.

"Law my ass."

The knife pierced through the chest of the man and blood splurted out of it, Altair simply bathed in it. The man cried like an animal for help but Altair continued cutting him down in every part of his body.

"No! No! It was only my job! THEY PAID ME TO DO IT-"

Without paying the man any attention he continued slicing him sticking the knife in his chest again in a more barbaric manner multiple times, cries of the man resonated in the wide alley, alerting the whole neighbourhood to glance at the situation and escape from the horrifying scene.

And then a shot was fired.

Gunshots after gunshots Altair could feel the bullet pass through his body and yet he failed to care. The bullets piercing through his frail body and cries of the man did not spark even a bit of remorse inside Altair nor the willingness to stop his savagery. After stabbing the man countlessly he continued to slam the knife down his victim's head, feeling a bit of resistance he realized that the knife did not completely pierce through the skull of the adult and so he repeated the motion and gruesomely pierced through his brain.

The man fell silent, he was now dead.

The what seemingly looked like police officers responded with bullets, hitting Altair in every vital point of his body. One bullet managed to put a hole through his eye sockets and one managed to obliterate his jaw and yet the man still stood his ground.

He can feel the coldness and the nearing death of his body now however the officers continued to shoot him.

Altair was quick to realize and immediately knew who these men are after taking a closer look at their faces.

They are assassins from the Syndicate, dressed up as policemen possibly to make it so that killing him a criminal himself would not be a problem to the public eye, afterall policemen are the ones who uphold the law and so it does not matter if violence is present, all that matters is a criminal, a killer is stopped, be it dead or alive.

Another desired outcome should also be accounted for, if the World witnesses the sheer brutality of the men that are responsible of keeping order in society it would awaken the rebellious souls of the people making them turn on the government, which in turn damages both the reputation and the power of the government and in turn allows the Syndicate to capitalize from the chaos and possibly gain political power by masking up as a benevolent organization that is fighting back against government and police brutality.

Altair realized this. Afterall he was once a part of the Syndicate's finest assassins, the World's most terrifying people.

He was no longer able to talk because of the damage on his jaws and so he only pointed the knife towards them letting the men know that he is aware of who they are and that he will slice all of them apart indifferently just like the dead man laying in his own pool of blood covered with the most brutal cuts, even if it ends up on him dying bathed in both his and the men's blood.

"Altair, you are a runaway, a traitor, and all who turn their backs on the Syndicate dies." the assassin uttered.

"We would not be afraid of a slum rat, in fact let me engage you on a hand to hand combat." the other person boldly challenged as he then approached Altair in a swift motion.

Altair with his vision getting blurry, constant numbing pain and consciousness slowly shifting away because of blood loss doesn't seem to be unfazed by the man running towards him to end his life, he in fact responded with a smile even with his deformed jaws welcoming the challenge with open arms.

As both assassins reached their desired range they did not waste any time and jumped straight to the action.

The challenger swung his fists at Altair on a very terrifying speed and mighty strength, getting hit by it would be undoubtedly devastating, however Altair was nimble and was able to avoid the attack and used the momentum of the dodge to counterattack.

Seeing Altair's counterattack the challenger could not do anything but guard with all his strength. Altair cut through his guard blood gashed out from the swift cut, a massive bleeding wound now appearing on the man's muscular arms dying the uniform he was wearing in dark red color.

The man paled ghostly and his eyes widened in shock.

"Wh-WHAT THE F--"

The hint of pride and ego that the man used to possess in his voice were replaced by an emotion of fear and regret, he looked at Altair and tried to attack him again as a desperate effort.

Gust of silent wind whistled upon Altair's ears sharply as he dodged the mighty attack of the challenger yet again, and with that he changed his grip on his knife and pushed his feet down strengthening his step to close the distance between him and the now unbalanced and startled man.

However he was met with a gunshot to his side.

'Fuck!'

Altair failed to take into account the men with the guns as he was too focused on the battle with the challenger, afterall who abandons his ally behind in a dire situation?

Not that Altair would know.

The challenger was quick to a scrap and took the opportunity to again strike Altair with a vigorous punch filled again with ego, pity and sheer brute strength.

Altair could not do anything but take the punch in the face as he was too late on reacting to the cheap attack.

He could only feel his nose breaking and his jaw getting deformed more gruesomely as he flew quite a distance from his position throwing him off balance.

The flow of blood dripping down from his wounded mouth and eye intensified, now completely covering and staining Altair's face with sanguine impure blood, he now looked like a piece of art created by hell itself.

The assassins could not help but grim upon the sight of this inhuman individual.

"How the hell is he still standing even after that?" one assassin shuddered, constantly shaking upon the sight of this demonic human.

"That's not a human."

Hopelessness appeared in the men's face upon witnessing the unshakeable will and inhuman endurance of the criminal.

Altair himself felt weaker and weaker, but the will to push further does not allow him to collapse, not until these scums are dead.

He gave them a maniacal smile in respond to their cheap tricks.

The assassins fired another shot, and another and another and another but Altair kept on going and continued to run towards his biggest threat and end them first. After a lot of bullets have been fired the clips of their pistols have finally went empty, as a quick response they immediately changed their guns and this was all the moment Altair really needed.

Altair no longer has anything to lose, not even his life so why would he stop on his own tracks when he already started the bloodbath, it is not like he will live anyway to witness the aftermath of his own doings and so he will go all out against all of them with unhinged brutality and a resolve of death.

A man with nothing to lose is the loneliest but is the most dangerous.

The men's face fell grim upon seeing that the killer is heading towards them in bloodlust, with a handful of vital points damaged and joints shot not to mention countless bullets punctured inside his flesh how could this man still move at such an incredible speed?

The answer was actually pretty simple, his bloodlust and adrenaline, a final resort.

It did not take long for Altair to close the distance between him and the officers and in a fluid motion he slit one of the assassin's throat. With the momentum he got from running and the force he applied to that cut, the man's neck almost looked like it will fall apart backwards, making blood splash like a water fountain.

Altair took a look at the despaired face of the men and continued his assault towards them.

Yelps of the helpless men and the sight of them getting absolutely slaughtered by a single man made the civillians run away in fear.

Who wouldn't? The bloody scene looked like it was something that came straight from the gorey limbos of hell, and the man himself was the embodiment of how hell slaughters the sinners like helpless lambs.

One assassin begged for forgiveness but Altair simply stick his knife in the throat of the noisy man.

"So damn noisy."

He continued to rush towards the alive men, slicing through their flesh with little to no effort even with his body constantly screaming in a wave of torturous pain.

Scared people often has the fight, flight or freeze response, and with the sight of the undying man the men either only froze or flee making it easier for Altair to kill every single one of them.

After a moment later however Altair's body has finally started shutting down of blood loss, he can feel his body drained of both his life and blood, and so his body no longer responded to his motor actions and his body instinctively lay down on the pool of his own blood and the men he just killed.

A truly both terrific and horrifying sight.

A thunder roared loudly in the skies like a festive horn of victory honoring Altair's win, a heavy rain starts pouring and blood scattered with every raindrop, cleaning the messy and deformed face of the now weakened man and the blood that is stained in his entire body and clothes.

He simply smiled at the gentle touch of the rain even with his obliterated mouth and weakly reached out for the sky.

'The rain's touch is the gentlest thing in the World....'

Altair felt like all of his sins are being washed away.

All his life he never truly believed in Gods, heaven or hell.

He despised the Gods if they ever did exist, how could they live comfortably in the heavens after deciding the fate of the people under the hierarchy? How can they even say that it is a fair way of maintaining balance in the World? That unfairness made Altair who he is today, everyday he was fighting for his life, and yet it didn't seem to pay off at all, he did not feel any progress that is rewarding to him.

Altair could not even recapitulate the exact number of his body count, he killed a lot of people too many to count in order to survive in the dark slums for another day, it is kill or be killed in this environment that might as well be called hell. Of course he also killed people out of grudge but is incredibly low compared to the number of kills necessary for his own survival.

'Fuck the ones in the heavens....'

With his dying words or to put it more correctly thoughts, he threw a middle finger at the skies.

'Ah right, I was not able to kill that big guy, seems like he ran away....'

Finishing those thoughts his mind finally went blank and there was only a hollow feeling that remained in him.

A melancholic incomprehensible blankness.

This emptiness, is this death?

This endless void of nothingness seemed to be death. However Altair did not know why he can still feel himself after dying. Or quite perhaps this is just what dying truly is? To be conscious but not sentient in a black prison.

His consciousness drifted in the never ending void, time seemed to become unfathomable in this world of nothing but darkness.

He tried talking but to no avail, it seems like he can only think of things just like he deduced.

'Wow, so this is death.'

For the first time in his life Altair felt everlasting peace of mind, he welcomed death with open arms and death seemed to have reciprocated his feelings finally letting him experience the peace that he had always wanted.

Altair no longer wanted anything else, he is contented with being a non-existent consciousness if it meaned clarity of the mind and soul.

But upon drifting in the black void for no one knows how long he saw a spark, a rather ominous spark. Normally a spark would be a symbol of hope, however Altair couldn't feel that way staring at the lonely light.

He was very confused.

As time passed Altair finally managed to reach the mysterious light. Upon reaching it, an apathetic voice spoke.

[A criminal will always be a criminal]

[A heretic cannot escape fate]

[You have angered the Gods]

[It is you against them]

[Initializing reincarnation sequence....]

[Your trial will begin]

[Steel yourself, Altair]

[You will now pay for your sins]

Perplexing thoughts and utter dumbfoundedness filled Altair's mind, he can only think to himself

'Uh what?'