How long Can I Fall?

"W-why?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Hot crimson blood flowed down my body onto the cold, rough cobble ground. The night breeze tickled my skin, making me shiver.

A bloody, shivery mess, that's all I am.

'What did I do wrong?!' I screamed internally to no one but myself.

I don't understand, why me? Am I the problem?

"Why? Why you ask; haha, listen to him, George." The tall blurry figure spoke with an amused tone.

A dark chuckle sounded behind me from the man holding me, restricting my movement. Like a predator looking down at his prey.

"You know why!" The figure continued, changing his tone, sounding more angry than amused.

No, no, I don't, I wanted to say, but it was caught in my throat. I never wanted this to happen; I never did anything to deserve this.

Yet, here I am, being held and beaten by two people I once considered friends.

Did I not mean something to them? Was everything a lie? When I met my once close friends Eric and George, I was six years old. I still remember their bright smiles that once brought me joy.

And worse, I can't hate them; I know I should, but I can't. Even after the constant beatings, I always remember the laughs we shared when we were happy and when I wasn't running away from them.

Eric and George were twins, two years older than myself, making them seventeen. By the time I met them, they had already lost their parents, yet they didn't seem down. Maybe that was the first sign something wasn't right.

But then my parents died, and I was swallowed whole by grief. I thought nothing was left for me, but Eric and George saved me from my darkness. Yet suddenly, out of nowhere, they changed.

They started beating people on the streets and stealing the little clothes they had. At the time, I didn't understand why. After all, everyone here was homeless; we all had rough lives; I thought they would understand that and have sympathy.

I don't know what changed them, but I do know they aren't the only ones. It's been like this forever; I've seen it too many times. Corrupted, turned into something else.

Corrupted by the evil that spread itself like fire in a forest. It seeped its way into everything and everyone. Men, women, and children, it didn't matter. Once it gets a hold of you, it's over; you can't resist it.

It's been like that forever; here in Nightmare City, it was just another part of daily life.

Previously I had asked 'Why?', yet I know the answer. Because I haven't fallen into the abyss of my own will, it will force me to fall. The evil, the darkness that encases the city, will win; it's only a matter of time.

Eric and George are merely pawns to get even bigger fish to fall. And once I fall into the darkness, I'll be used like them, losing control, seeking whatever the darkness wants.

You can't beat it; you can't even resist it for a singular moment. The citizens of Nightmare City know this; the entire continent knows this; that is why we are called the Forsaken, marked by the darkness, like cattle marked to be slaughtered.

On each of the Forsaken is a mark, two triangles, and a curved line on the back-hand side of our left hand. Resembling a smiling face, the same constant smile all those who have fallen wear.

Very few of the Forsaken have a small black line across their left eye; I am one of them. No one has figured out the truth behind the mark and why only a select few have a line across their eye.

Some thought it had something to do with bloodline, but that idea was soon thrown out, with little evidence to support it. Others thought the darkness cursed them, yet weren't we all cursed?

Although no one knows what the eye mark means, I know for a fact it's something important. Ever since Eric and George fell, I caught them staring at it, almost yearning. Like it was a fruit waiting to be picked.

After the umpteenth beating, I knew the mark was something important. If not to them, then maybe to something else. Not once had they even scratched my left eye or anywhere near it. Perhaps in fear of damaging it, or maybe something else entirely.

Or so I thought.

Blood and dirt blurred my vision. Despite the irritation and discomfort, my eyes remained open. If I were to die, I'd do it while looking my killer in the eye. The blurred figure of Eric moved closer and closer. My bones screamed as a force compressed them together.

A gust of cold air pressed against my skin. Eric kneeled down in front of me; even with my impaired vision, I could make out his wide grin. His mouth opened, and his jaw moved, but no sound came out.

A loud ring buzzed through my mind, blocking any other noise. The ringing grew louder and higher pitched.

"Gaaa!" Fresh blood trickled down my cheeks. The loud ringing was gone in an instant, replaced by a crack coming from my skull. My left eye pulsed in pain, and my vision darkened.

"Fuu. Haaa." Eric's attack knocked both the ringing and breath out of me.

I couldn't even see it. My head throbbed in pain, and my bones screamed for help. No help will come; why would it? No matter how often I experience a beating, it doesn't get easier.

I've even grown tired of my screams; I want it to end.

Like a savior who heard my wish, a voice entered my mind, "You don't deserve this mark!" Eric's angry voice echoed in my mind as George's grip around my arms tightened even further as he agreed.

'Then take it.' I don't want whatever it is. Blood flowed down my throat, preventing me from speaking.

When I was younger, I would hear adults giving my parents their condolences and advice on how to deal with a kid with the eye mark. As I walked the streets, I would get looks of pity. Is this why? Did they know that people with the mark would be hunted?

'Am I just prey to the hunter?' I thought to myself.

It's not what I want; I don't want to give in; I dream of standing at the top in a free world. But that's all it is, a dream. What can I do?

As my thoughts drifted away, I could feel my body grow weaker, and my consciousness started to fade. But right before I could be welcomed to entire peace, before my pain would end, a booming voice shook me back to the land of the living.

"No, no, no. This doesn't end here!" The deep voice of George shook my very core.

Typically saving someone from death would grant them the title of savior, but I wasn't grateful for the one who saved me, for my very 'savior' was the man who would eventually kill me. What is there to be thankful for when you know you're bound to die within a few hours?

As each second passed, more and more of my blood flowed down my body, bringing me closer to death's door. If I had been lucky and not forsaken, maybe I could have died 'peacefully' that way. But I knew better than that.

"Let's go! Haha, I wonder how long you can survive in the dungeon like this!" Eric laughed while George lifted me, slinging me over his shoulder.

'So that's how I'll die.' Being eaten alive by the monsters that roam the dungeon floors doesn't seem so bad. Hopefully, after only a single bite, it will stop all this.

The dungeon inside Nightmare City was the weakest one to exist yet had the highest mortality rate of any. If a hundred men entered, one might leave if they were lucky.

The dungeon itself isn't hard compared to the others; what makes it so rare for someone to come out is the condition they go in. Almost everyone who goes inside doesn't want to make it out. And the few who want to make it out can't find the strength to crawl out of that dark hole.

Some were thrown into the dungeon, already half dead, just as I'm about to be.

My body has already started to numb, and my eye swell; soon enough, I'll die. I'm not afraid of dying, just disappointed. I always dreamed of doing so much with this gift called life, but in the end, I never left my birthplace.

My limp body bumped up and down as George carried me. The streets were surprisingly flat. 'He wants a reaction.' I concluded. There isn't any other reason I can think of that would make him do this.

"Can't my last moments be peaceful? "No, I guess not, I answered.

I didn't need to see to be able to tell we were almost at the entrance; I've been through these streets enough times to the point their layout is engraved in my mind.

The entrance to the weakest dungeon, the white obelisk. A giant diamond-shaped stone floating in the air, with a white gem at the center. Just below was a white magical portal that moved with the wind, the dungeon entrance.

I've heard stories of people conquering dungeons, leveling up through the system, and gaining strength. I once feared someone who would come and conquer the dungeon and gain unimaginable power. Then they would conquer Nightmare City. Foolish. That's something to dream of, not fear.

Though here, we don't have to worry about someone conquering the dungeon for power, as the only thing people seek while entering is their own death.

Despite my blurry vision and swollen eye, the little blue person icon in the bottom right corner of my vision was clear as day. The icon marked the system, all life forms were given this power, but not all could properly use it.

The system doesn't grant power to say; it helps you gain power. Through defeating opponents in a duel, crafting, or killing, you gain experience. With experience, you level up; the higher your level, the stronger you are.

I hadn't heard much about the system's abilities or what is possible; I never imagined I would even use it. I accepted my fate, being born in Nightmare City and being marked. But here I am, thinking about the power one could gain from it, and it doesn't seem so bad.

Slaying monsters, crafting power gear, defeating a hero in a duel, it seems like fun, fun I won't get to experience even in my dreams.

At least I could use one function the system has, the friend function. After opening the system, it will, by default, show your stats with a numerical value. The last time I checked, I remember my strength stat was a '4'. While on this screen, at the top, is an icon with two people outlined and a little plus mark.

Clicking on that little icon will bring you to a page that shows your friend list; here, you can add or delete friends. The benefits of adding friends are many, like sending messages no matter your location and sending trade requests. Trading weapons for currency or gear for gear it's up to you. However, there is a catch.

Weapons and gear have requirements to be able to wield them. And you must trade with the appropriate amount the item is worth. I'm unsure how this works, as I've never used it. But my parents had told me about it; apparently, the item you're trading vanishes into white motes and reappears to the person who traded for it.

Haaa. I've already started thinking about everything I wished I had done before my death. Regrets, that's what this is; I'm starting to regret how I lived. If only I had had this revelation before, then maybe I could have changed the outcome. Or... Maybe not. Would I have done something different if I had known what awaited me?

Unfortunately, it's too late; I can feel it; we're almost at the entrance.

"Hahaha, just a little longer Kai!" Joyous laughter rang from the area ahead of me.

Hearing Eric call my name pained me. Because it wasn't the same Eric I knew, I lost him long ago. George still didn't talk much; at least that part of him didn't change.

This was the last chance I had to talk to them; I wanted to ask so many questions, and I wanted to help them. But what can I do? So I settled just for one question.

"Are you happy?" I asked, my voice dry and weak, it wasn't loud, but I knew they heard it.

I could tell George had stopped walking as my body stopped swaying; I could only assume Eric did too. Maybe they were in deep thought, or perhaps we were already at the entrance.

"Happy?" Eric's voice lost its joyousness from his last jab at me. He continued, replaced with a serious tone, "I don't think I've ever been this happy. Even when we played games as kids, the thrill and excitement I got the first time I showed a filthy rat my power made me realize what true happiness is. HAHA." His voice grew louder and crazier with each world.

"HAHA!" George joined in on his brother's deranged laughing.

I didn't need to see them tell they were grinning ear to ear, 'Maybe it's too late,' I thought to myself. Even if I had power, I couldn't save them; they were too far lost.

My arms and legs started swaying again, signaling our march again, march to death.

The moonlight penetrated my eyelids, giving me at least some last light. The cold breeze caused goosebumps to spread across my body, 'At least I don't have to suffer through winter.' I mused to myself.

Winter would start in only a few weeks, the harshest season of them all. With the bit of cloth I wore, I was bound to freeze or have to burn away my possessions, as I've done in previous winters. I don't think I would have survived anyway; my clothes barely went to my knees.

"It was a miracle I made it this long," I whispered; luckily, George didn't hear me.

After only a few more minutes, Eric broke the silence with a sinister laugh, "HAHA, sorry, but there won't be a touching goodbye, throw him in!"

It seems my time is over; we've made it to the portal.

"HEHE." George laughed, too; grabbing my chest, he lifted me easily. George was odd; despite the lack of food, he became a giant compared to everyone else. He was at least two feet taller than me, probably standing above six feet, if I had to guess.

George rocked me back and forth before letting go; feeling light as a feather, I flew through the air before a rough suction force stopped my flight. Pulling me into it, like a pig devouring a meal after not eating for days, I couldn't resist. Only after a few seconds of the suction force did darkness overcome me.