Chapter 1: You only live once, so don't choose death as an occupation

The practice of relentlessly badgering and nagging our children to get a good job, no, any form of employment for that matter, is timeless. Each generation dumps the burden of deciding how their children will live the rest of their short lives onto them at the ripe age of 15. However, I don't think any parent would have assumed I'd choose to become a murderer today.

I pedaled like the wind home, using the little bit of energy that I still had leftover from last night's meager sleep, not that it was short, but it was just plain restless. This day of school had seriously taken a lot out of me. All the sitting around and faking listening truly takes its toll on a man, you know. Pulling over in a small outcropping on the side of the road, I dismounted and fished around through my pockets, finding a few UNI-Curen's, just enough for a Large can of Fizzo's. I wiped the sweat of the hot winter day off my brow as the coins I inserted in the vending machine clinked around. A few crows cawed overhead, a rare sight these days. I looked up following them as they intricately flew in patterns of circles and squares, until one flew into one of the many identical stark white buildings and dissipated.

"How pathetic," I thought. They were even making the crows holograms these days. It would be less depressing to do nothing at all. This was worse than the fake snow from last year. The can made a thumping sound as it landed in the machine behind me, settling in the collection bin. I reached in and grabbed it, Patting the machine for a job well done as I got back onto my bike. With a quick flick of my finger, the can opened with a fresh snap as my bike picked up speed. Taking a big gulp, I downed half the can filling my throat with the cheap taste of whatever new artificial sweeteners the big corps had invented. Nasty. I spit it out, turning to the side, and threw the can away to the road, landing in a ditch behind me. Welcome to the Future, in all its glory. Same old humanity. Please say it isn't true.

People back in the golden ages probably would have imagined the future as something starkly different. Flying cars dotting the air, space travel, something like The old science fiction films they watched, But no. Scientific advancement eventually hit a plateau. There's only so much a vertebrate creature can accomplish eh? The only feat we managed to achieve was world peace but, It was in a dull sort of way. Not in the heroic fashion you might imagine it. Every nation pretty much had its cultures watered down so much to the point where you couldn't tell one country from another. Religion and race are something of the past, everyone now could be anything their genes had floating around in them from the past, so we basically got over any superficial differences we had, and a completely unified world government was sure to follow. The same goes for global warming. You couldn't expect us to actually prevent it quick enough, so we just waited it out slowly, phasing out the gases and shipped the ice off into caves deep underground. So, yeah, sorry to break it to them but the future really isn't all that special. 

Fake cricket sounds buzzed down every street as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't really an option at all although my eyes burned like acid with the need to sleep. My house was on the 148th floor of one of the 200-floor apartment models. My fan swayed round and round over and over. I started counting the ceiling tiles for something to do, but the fan would often make a creaking sound every 4 or so rotations so I eventually lost count. Recalling today's class I think we had a field trip scheduled for tomorrow. Hooray. We'd be shown something like how wonderful the new sciences are, but my less than enthrallment at everything was shared by most citizens in this colony. Oh right, I forgot to say where I was. In the future cities got so big that most of them merged into each other forming supercolonies. They totaled 12 in all, and I lived in one of the smaller ones consisting of the eastern coast of what used to be Canada and The United States, now known as Colony #6. Anyway, the Sense of dissolution was shared by most folks. Dopamine injections are commonplace for people whose mental state gets really bad, but even they feel pretty fake to most people these days. When I got home today, my mom, one of the few people who still had big hopes for me, and the world, pressured me as usual to find a damn job. I was exhausted so I shut her off completely. That's all it ever is with her is just what you can do for her, and dad left ages ago, probably lying dead in the ground somewhere. Lucky bastard. I don't particularly hate her, but like most aspects of my life, it's something I begrudgingly accept. This routine was repeated almost every day, so we've gotten pretty distant now. She tells me I need to find my path in life but to be honest I don't have any interest in this world. Life is like a video game you've already beaten. If something , just anything caught my attention, I'd love to pursue my passion, but for now, the forecast just calls for me to rot away. Everything was so pathetic to me, even myself. Suicide is also something from the golden ages that was mostly lost. People with poor mental health are usually shipped off to proper care facilities, but I personally haven't seen anyone come out. Some people say fishy rumors about them but it's not something I believe. I think it's foolish to say that some of these people can be cured. The issue is deep-rooted in the world itself. I really hope I'm not next, although I can sense myself losing touch with life. I just need to find something. Lost in thought I continue counting ceiling tiles until my alarm goes off. I guess I forgot to sleep tonight. Common occurrence.

Time for another day. I recall that I didn't eat yesterday but I was too lazy to go anywhere for breakfast. I pedaled through the streets, swerving around the foot traffic that was awfully congested this morning. The sky was dark grey today and the air had the burn of an oncoming rainstorm. As I came to a large city square I noticed a sizeable crowd watching A large Ad screen on the side of the building. Peering at it myself, I noticed a well-dressed man with a well-trimmed beard, looking somewhere in his 30's was announcing some sort of public service announcement. Upon seeing his outfit, I recognized him as a special police member. We didn't have militaries anymore so we didn't really have armies, but for more problematic issues we did have a more skilled force to get the job done. You could identify them by their pure white dress shirts with gold lining. They were also the same people held responsible for caring for people sent off to mental health facilities and forcefully bringing ones there that could be considered a threat to others, or themselves.

"-and I can assure you that the situation is under control" The man announced. A picture appeared on the side showing some kind of criminal. He had a very unsettling pure white face, almost like he had a routine facial with chalk. Probably some sort of Attention-seeking thug. I thought and continued my ride to school not staying to see what else the man had to say. Most things the government announced were propaganda, trying to get everyone to feel right nice. Maybe a starter for that would be some real damn birds. Upon arrival at my school, A decent establishment located in one of the less hyper-developed neighborhoods in colony #6, I placed my bike in its lock and gave it a pat on the side. What a great bike, having held up on me for all these years. Old machines were something I truly appreciated. My bike was an antique from 2450, one of the last older models made. I preferred the old bikes because the new models have self-balancing features that take out all the fun. But there was more to my machine obsession than that. All machines back then were crafted with a purpose. To make lives easier, to make food tastier, or just for fun. There is no care anymore. Everything is just made for money. With current technology, we don't even have a use for half of these things, but I have a soft spot for them. Just as I was enjoying my prized bike, I was swept up in a wave of people exiting from the door. They hurried down the stone steps of the school to a large electric bus stationed in the parking lot by a fake tree. I could hear them murmuring on and on about our field trip to a museum. So that's where we're going huh?

Shortly after It occurred to me that the students were boarding and I was indeed, Incredibly late. A consequence of riding an old bike I suppose. Rationally I decided there was no time to drop off my possessions and skipped heading to my locker. Besides, that would turn out to be a pleasant twist because I'm sure HE would be there, and I did not need to deal with him this morning.

"Yo, bro wassup!"A dreaded voice emerged from the roaring river of students. Shit. He's here.

Getting on the bus with this kid would be quite possibly the worst outcome. Of course with my luck that ended up happening. Even as I tried to get away he followed me like a hound onto the bus and plopped right into my seat as I sat down. 

"This museum trip is going to be fire bro!" He said in his annoyingly enthusiastic voice. This is one reason why I hated this man. His passion for every minute little thing was completely over the top. His positivity was so high it looped back around to making everyone else feel depressed. Contrary to this character trait he had zero friends, although I guess the same could be said for me, but I'm more of a stylish, mysterious loner, or at least that's what I hope. I ignored his conversation starter and met him with a glare that said, are you for real? The bus engine started and we pulled out of the driveway, and unfortunately for me, the scenery was one thing that did not capture his fleeting attention. He continued to drone on the whole ride with useless dialogue. I won't even bore you with his name or description. Just imagine the most annoying little shit in the world. That's him. I guess we'll call him Owen, that seems like an annoying name, no offense to any Owens out there. I wasn't his friend at all, I never approached this man in my life or even made eye contact, I was just the olny person who didn't care enough to tell him to buzz off.

"Did you hear about the new Film coming this weekend?" Owen pestered. I tried to act like I was asleep on the window until the bus hit a pothole and sent me flying into his side. I quickly shuffled back into my seat and he giggled to himself at the obvious discomfort in my face.

"I'm actually so excited to see this museum bro. I'm like a total nerd for stuff from the past. I love the 20th century, it was so cool, with rock and roll and action films!" Owen continued to harass me, regardless of the fact that each subject he brought up failed to bring any reaction out of me other than disgust. Thankfully the teacher brought a quick end to his torture with an announcement.

"Alright class, today, As you know we are going to be visiting the museum. I want to remind all of you to be on your best behavior as this is a public place. I'll take roll call when we get there and don't forget to take your bags off of the bus. Oh, it looks like we're almost there. But the most important thing I want you guys to remember is to have fun! Hooray for learning!" upon finishing her sentence she gave a goofy thumbs up and a dumb smile that we could all tell was a wasted attempt to instill the same giddiness that Owen possessed into the rest of us. The bus stumbled into the parking lot of a massive Modern building. It was shaped like a pyramid with the main entrance sloped inward. A bright sign indicating it as the Royal Colony 6 Modern Human History Museum. Oh, one more thing. Modern human history is how we refer to history after the 19th century as it was so different from what came before. As soon as the bus stopped and the doors swung open, Owen grabbed me by the hand and dragged me out of the door pushing against others in line to get in first. As he hurriedly escorted me to the entrance I noticed the museum almost gave off an eerie sense of forbodingness, its massive scale, even compared to the skyscrapers that make up this colony dwarfing all of us. We ended up having to wait for the teachers to give the gate people the thumbs up that we had paid after Owen had tried to waltz right on through. Even the workers who never knew him wore an uncomfortable expression and an abnormal amount of sweat on their brows as he tapped his foot getting ready to enter like a dog waiting for a treat to be low enough to snap at. They clasped the bracelets around our arms and Owen quickly made his way to the 90s section, with me in tow away from the class. A few students offered me compassionate looks as I stared back longingly. I turned to Owen and tried to tell him that we needed to stay for roll call, but he objected. On the way there we passed through the main lobby, which had a wide open space decorated with vintage furniture, and branching off to various time periods. We took a staircase up to the second floor, where there was a grand balcony wrapping around the center lobby, and headed on down a hallway leading to the 90s section. One of the most important eras in pop culture, when video games truly started to flourish and when music and film reached a prime. Or at least that was the common opinion that was also shared by Owen. If not, such a small section in time would not have such a large room. It was dimly lit, and decently expansive, being around the size of a hockey rink. Owen appeared as though he was about to explode from hype, and he glanced at me, pointlessly expecting a reaction but my face was akin to stone. Disappointed he said

"It's time to live a little bro! Have some fun. Just come with me and check this stuff out. Trust me, you'll enjoy it, man."

Defeated, I nodded my head, which was a reaction he desired. Filled with new desire and motivation he skipped over to the first exhibit to show me around.

Rows and rows Of old photographs were preserved in glass cases, they were like little windows into each person's life. Owens' face lit up as he peered into each one. Some contained photos of people dancing in a strange room with colours everywhere, another showed old gas cars, and another even showed many people crouched in a ditch with weapons, one of the old wars. I stood awkwardly in the corner just hoping for time to pass until I could go home and lay in bed. Owen turned to me and said.

"You know why I took you here?" Suddenly interested, I turned to him and shook my head.

"I, I know how you feel man, and I want to try and cheer you up. People back in this time, they all lived differently, just being able to go home and eat with family, and have fun was kinda all you needed for satisfaction, every discovery you made felt so cool and fulfilling. Now you don't have any say in your life, just drifting around waiting for something to happen. You need to find something to drive you, man, it's not going to find you." I understood what he meant but he didn't understand that it wasn't that simple. I don't know what I really want, but I just want to feel like what I'm doing matters. I didn't care enough to say that to him though. Owen made a pouting face, realising he wasn't getting through to me and he brought me to another exhibit which showed a screen playing an old video. 

"Look at this, This is one of the old movies they used to watch." He said. It was some sort of Fantasy film about a short little guy going on an adventure, or that's how it looked from what I saw at least.

"We don't have time to watch the full thing, but one of the main things that really resonated with me in this movie is that one of the characters learns how to live his life fully, even when he is at the end of his life. He finds his passion and writes a book about the world. I want you to find that fulfillment bro. I know it might be hard to find these days when there's nothing left to do but trust me, I'll help you find that passion man." Said Owen thoughtfully.

He brought me in for a bro hug, or so he would have called it, and his words resonated with me somewhat so I chose not to pull away. I didn't care enough to say that to him though. The silent moment was torn in half by a sudden shrill scream from somewhere down the hall, followed by more screams and the sound of mass panic. It sent such a startling chill into us that it seemed as if the gravity of the room was doubled. An un-cuttable sense of tension enveloped all of the museum. Startled, me and Owen stared at each other then silently we agreed to check it out. It sounded so horrible like whoever was screaming had the sole goal of shattering their lungs, whether to erase the fear or the pain of whatever was happening. This seemed odd. I wouldn't personally consider the museum this terribly exciting, but something was clearly up. The class was likely still in the lobby listening to a tour guide explain the museum or something like that. We quickly backtracked our steps back to the balcony above the lobby, the screams slowly dying down. Whatever was happening was starting to subside. Our footsteps got louder as we approached the lobby, not from them stomping violently, but due to our heartbeats beating out of our chest to the same tune, and the eerie silence that began as the screams subsided. We rounded the corner peering over the balcony edge when we were met with a terrible sight.

The entire lobby was a sea of blood. Corpses were strewn around, having bits missing. Guts laced the room, and the sound of an intestine falling from its place stuck to the wall shocked us back to reality from our horrified stares. Owen fell to his knees, sick to his stomach. He started gagging and covering his mouth with his hands so as not to scream or throw up. His face was pale as death. The man responsible for this paced the room. Dressed in all black with a face white as chalk although it was all covered in blood. A long machete, covered in human matter was held by his side, almost low enough to scrape the chunks of flesh on the floor that squished as his heavy black boots trampled the lives he had taken. The last of his victims, the teacher who had run, was crawling away, with one leg missing. He walked up to her slowly and finished her off with a stab to the back. She was too weak to scream and simply bubbled up some blood as she died. Satisfied with his kill, he wiped a large splash of blood off his shirt with his hand and then turned to look around. His cold dead eyes searched the room like spotlights until he peered up at the balcony making eye contact with us. No doubt. He was the man from the announcement earlier. Upon seeing us he immediately burst into a sprint in our direction, almost without thought, as if purely instinct. Emotionless, dedicated to whatever cruel mission this was he ran with a precision that would shame a track star. It almost seemed to ripple the blood as if he were walking on it like some kind of evil twist on a holy figure. In sudden fear, me and Owen turned to run. It was the only sensible answer. This man, to us, was fear itself.

"Fucking run !" He Screamed, likely loud enough to give away our intention. Assessing our options I realized we could likely make it out of a fire exit and into public if that would help at all. We'd also have the benefit of extra time as the man would need to get to the stairs. Why this was happening to us now, I had no clue, but I guess that truly is the nature of tragedies.

"Go left Owen!" I advised, pointing to the hallway leading to the closest fire exit. 

"Uh.. Ok!" He said, sounding slightly reassured. I realized this was the first time I'd ever talked to him. Oh well, I guess better late than never. Almost awestruck by these events it never occurred to us the situation we were in. We thought there was no way he could reach us in time taking the stairs. We were right. But this wasn't a normal person. He didn't need to take the stairs. With a thump, he landed on the upper floor with a massive leap cracking the ground. You could almost idolize him if he wasn't out to kill us, his sheer build was of men among men. Pausing from leg strain for just a minute, he gave us enough time to scream before he dashed over to us drawing ever nearer. He raised his hand, clutching his knife and getting ready to strike as we turned a corner, hoping the fire exit would be near. I spied it but it was at the other end of the hallway. At this rate, we would not make it in time. covering my eyes, and hoping for a miracle, I braced myself for the sudden attack and hoped that any higher power in this world take pity on our poor souls. Even Owen whom I detested had his space in my heart ever so slightly grown. I heard a quick swipe, a terrible ripping sound as a warm liquid splattered on my back.

The top half of Owen's body landed beside me flopping to the ground. Blood sprayed from both severed ends and he looked at me longingly as if there was something I could do, but alas I could not. He almost seemed to accept death and smile at me. He was already dead. His bottom half, legs, and waist, gave out and tumbled over. I had fallen to my knees in fear. Turning around and backing into a corner, crawling and dragging myself with all my strength I saw the man. He was Emotionless. He took one step towards me, two steps, each step bringing dread closer. But I noticed something about the way he moved. It was a limp. He had sustained some sort of blow earlier from someone on his left thigh. So there was hope. He wasn't some sort of immortal supervillain. Well, I wouldn't consider myself a fighter, I certainly have decent talent in hand-to-hand combat. When I was younger I participated in a boxing club, but, it didn't interest me. This newfound hope ignited some sort of other flight or fight response in me. Left with no other option, not like I could run, I stood up, Balling my fist staring at certain death. Owen wanted me to find myself, and the least I could do to honor his death was give life a shot. This act of bold defiance seemed to reach the man, it gave him a wide smile. He must have been overjoyed to have such interesting prey. It was almost infectious, I felt just as electrified. I must be insane for actually trying this, A crazy gambit like someone from an action film. It all comes down to this moment. As soon as we began, Time seemed to slow down as we both took our first steps forward. both of us raised our fists. Mine with nothing but the sheer will to survive, and his holding a knife with the bloody precision of a predator. Neither of us was willing to give up the hunt. I reeled back and sent out a punch, It was pointless, it would never hit as I knew his knife skills were much faster and more precise. This we both knew, So I made a bold decision. I caught his knife in my hand. Some might call it a stupid decision. Pain surged through my arm as his attack was halted. I dared to look and saw the knife penetrating to the other side of my hand, my blood starting to drip. But this was optimal. I met his gaze with a wicked smile. A cornered Animal will make the boldest decisions.

"Not so tough now," I thought. His arm, now held in place by me. The next move could be the decider as I had this new unforeseen advantage. Quickly I grabbed his hand with my wounded one And pulled back, kicking him in his Thigh wound causing him to wince slightly and sending him flying back and me springing on my back with the knife still lodged in my hand. He quickly got up, and I noticed some sort of visible energy beginning to flow around his fists. It glowed with a malicious deep black with edges of red like the lips of flames. It didn't surprise me that this man had some weird supernatural power, but at this point my adrenaline-filled mind blindly accepted it. Fumbling with my bloody hand I dislodged the knife, biting my teeth to cover the pain as I tore it out sending flecks of blood around the hall and bringing it to a rest at my side. The man spoke up.

"Ah, so you're the one?" He pointed to the knife in my hand. It radiated the same malevolent energy that still flowed around his hands. I realized it had the same feeling as the instinct I felt earlier. I raised the knife. Whatever supernatural stuff going on here was beyond my current comprehension but right now I needed to live more than anything. I felt the energy's charge grow and grow, as my feelings swelled the mysterious energy flared, sending the feeling throughout my whole body, and reaching its tendrils to the wall like electricity. His energy was more focused but equally deadly appearing to my knowledge. We readied ourselves and stepped forward to swing blows at each other once more time. This was it, it had to be. The energy from the knife and his fists collided in the air slightly before they would actually connect. It felt like trying to force yourself to move in a windstorm. Both forces of energy slammed into each other trying to tear through one another, causing a terrible sound like a cross between nails on a chalkboard and a lightning strike. His force was overpowering, slowly pushing me back. I began to lose balance but I didn't fear. I knew this would be the end, and that was ok. I gave it my all. His emotionless eyes seemed to light up with something as he forced himself onto me. Just in these last few minutes, I found true excitement for the first time in my life. It might be horrible but I felt something. Something. I realized I needed more. I needed to kill him, to live. Or at least that's what I'd tell myself but whether it was from the energy, trauma, or some deep-rooted evil in me, I truly wanted to hurt this despicable person. It was a matter of pride now. I wanted to take whatever challenge the world gave me head-on. That was my calling. My excitement poured into my energy and It flared viciously. With one more push of effort, I forced him onto his knees and quickly overpowered him. My Knife finally Sliced through his energy creating a shockwave that shattered the windows around us. I cut straight through the aftermath lopping off his arm. Not a second after it hit that ground I darted around the corner of his eyes away from his Peripheral vision. This was not survival anymore, this was about me utterly defeating him. I tore into him, stabbing his shoulder, torso, chest, and face, rapidly without restraint. When I finally relented and let my hand fall the man fell over landing on my chest, dead. He stared at me with eyes showing nothing other than content. I did it, I win.

As The colour left his eyes, he slumped off me, hitting the concrete floor with a thud, his blood pooling out from the cuts all over his body. Beautiful, Scarlet liquid that oozes with emotion. Feeling true joy for the first time in my life I let out a laugh so long and loud It left me wheezing for air. This was true excitement. What I needed and longed for. Something about it felt so wrong, but everything else felt so right. I stared into my reflection in the blood. My slicked-back brown hair, Black eyes, and Skin that looked 10 years older than the rest of me. What I saw in that blood was the true me. Awakened. The black under my eyes from sleepless nights seemed almost to lift, although it was still a part of me. 

"Shiro?! Come in?"A certain device buzzed in the pockets of the killer, presumably Shiro. "We're going to send in a search team if you don't respond soon, this mission is too important for you to get discovered." The voice sounded female, but I couldn't really tell. But this, This changes everything. There is an entire group of people like this? I knew I had to find them. This was my calling. Whether we would work together or have another fight, I didn't care, I couldn't go back to normal life after this. I still didn't completely understand my future, but I tasted this excellent crumb, and I wanted to see more. I dove into his pockets searching for it and unveiled a peculiar-looking phone modeled after a jack-o-lantern, with a speaker inside its hollow mouth. I took the little pumpkin phone eagerly and headed through the door, bloody knife in hand. This was the start of a new journey for me. My whole life I'd been searching for excitement, longing, and yearning to leave my name on the world that was unimpressionable. But I knew now. What I learned today changed me. I had found my purpose. My name is Hokori Koshiro, and This is the start of my career as a murderer.