Backstory Time

"Since you like stories, would you like to hear one," I asked Agnes.

At the same time, I confirmed that Chase's status. He laid stiff on the ground, his eyes still filled with lingering terror while he grasped the blade, creating two lines of blood—one on each hand—which silently dipped down his open chest, bursting and bubbling like the last breath of an active volcano. He was indeed dead. Mixed emotions sprung from in my mind. While I was elated to kill someone again, I was disappointed for it to end so fast.

ɪ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ. "ɪ ᴅᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ?"

ᴀs ɪ ᴅɪᴅ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʏᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡᴅ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴜs. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴ sɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴀsᴛᴏɴɪsʜᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ғᴀᴄᴇs sᴛʀɪᴄᴋᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴘʀᴇᴄᴇᴅᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏғ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs.

ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ sᴀʏ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ᴀ ᴊᴜɢᴅᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴛʜ ʙᴀʀʙᴀʀɪᴄ ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴇᴄʀᴇᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜɪs ᴍᴀᴊᴇsᴛʏ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴʏ ғɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴡ—ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs, ɪɴ ᴇssᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ sᴜᴄʜ—ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ—ᴡᴀs ғᴀɪʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴊᴜɢᴅᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ; ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ, ᴀ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ. ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪsᴇ, ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ sɪɴɴᴇʀ ʀᴇᴘᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇs ᴀғᴛᴇʀᴡᴀʀᴅ?

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴛᴍᴏsᴘʜᴇʀᴇ sʜɪғᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇssɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴏᴜᴛ, ᴛᴏ ғᴇᴀʀ ᴏғ ᴡɪᴛɴᴇssɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴄʀɪᴍᴇ. ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ɪɴ- ᴏʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀ ᴊᴜɢᴅᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ.

ᴛʀᴜᴛʜғᴜʟʟʏ sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ғɪʀsᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ.

ɪ ɢᴜʟᴘᴇᴅ ᴀs ɪ ʟᴀɪᴅ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇ. ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅs, ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴇ sᴀɪᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ. ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ—ɪ sʜᴜᴅᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ—ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғᴇᴇʟ . . . ғᴇᴇʟ sᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ?

"You said so yourself, there's always time for a story," I interjected, "besides, this story is somewhat different from the usual ones."

ɪ ᴡɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs ᴇᴜᴘʜᴏʀɪᴀ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ.

"ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇs ɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ," She asked me, her curiosity picked.

"A swindler who travelled into another world. People call him the Devil. Would you like to hear?"

She remained silent, so I assumed she was fine with it.

"The person in the story had a little sister—well, their relationship was a lot more complicated than that, but let's keep it like this for now. Anyway, she was the only one he held dear. Especially after his parents divorced, then she was the only one he had. Mind you, he never really hated his parents, but he never liked them either, which is why after they divorced, he chose to live alone, instead of following them. His mother sent them money to survive, while his father made it a game to have as little contact with him as possible, a game he played quite well." I smiled faintly. "Carrying on, years later before our protagonist was ripe of age, his mother died, leaving the two siblings all alone. His father was nowhere to be found. Thus, he was in dire need of money. Not for him, he didn't care about that, it was for his sister to live a stable life. So what do you think can a person like that do?"

Agnes looked at me, her face emotionless. Even though I could read her thoughts, I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

I resumed talking. "Food, rent, clothing, education, is very hard to balance, especially for two. Where could he generate money, except from a source in the dark?" I then laughed. "Say, does it disappoint you?"

"ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴇ?"

"That the Devil had such ordinary backstory. Not really inspiring, is it?" I answered her. "But that boy, he never lived to inspire. Inspiring people, that's a job for heroes. Villains like him could only tempt, and then drown in the shame—the only solace coming from pulling innocent bystanders with him, so that he would not swim alone in the dark, nightmarish ocean." I shrugged my shoulders and turned around, I looked at the crowd, and my eyes fell on the little boy, his brows still wrinkled by the lingering fury. "So, is it disappointing?"

Agnes hovered away. She looked at me, and I looked at her, before she closed her eyes, seemingly lost in thoughts again. I waited for her to finish, not bothered by the piercing stares placed on me. The girl drew a brief breath, before she asked me, "ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴀ sᴛᴏʀʏ?"

My brows shot up from her unexpected question, before I grinned.

"Sure, tell me. What is it about?"

"ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪʀʟ, ᴀ ʙᴀsᴛᴀʀᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ, ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴᴇss," she told me.

"Sounds interesting enough."

She began narrating, "ᴀs sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴀ ʟᴜxᴜʀɪᴏᴜs ʟɪғᴇ. ɢᴏʟᴅ, ᴊᴇᴡᴇʟʀʏ, ᴄʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ; ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀs. ɪғ sʜᴇ sᴀɪᴅ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴡᴀs ʀɪɢʜᴛ, ᴛʜᴇɴ sᴏ ʙᴇ ɪᴛ. ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴᴇʀ ᴅᴀʀᴇᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴀɪʀ, ɴᴏ ɴᴏʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴅᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇ. sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜᴋᴇ's ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ! ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴄᴇ! ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛ sᴜᴄʜ ʜᴏʟʏ ᴇxɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ?" Agnes said, her voice was peculiarly cold, "I ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ: ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇʀ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ, ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ᴘᴇʀɪsʜᴇᴅ. 'ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ', sᴀɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ, ᴀɴ ᴜɴғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴏɴᴇ. ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴏɴᴇs ᴛᴏᴏ?" She joked and then laughed. It seemed she found that particularly funny. "ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴋɴᴇᴡ, ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴇʀ ғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ʀɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ sᴍᴀʟʟ, ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅs. ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ, ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ?"

"Somewhat."

"ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ, ᴜɴᴀᴄᴄᴜsᴛᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɢᴜɪsʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ғʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ sᴏᴜʟ sɴᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ. sʜᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ᴏɴ, ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴋs—ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ—ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʜᴇʀ sɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀs ʀᴜᴍᴏʀs ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇᴅ, ᴏɴᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴀɪᴅ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ʙᴀsᴛᴀʀᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴀɪᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀs ᴀ sᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴀ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ? ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ᴀ ᴡᴀsᴛʀᴇʟ? ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ, sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʙʏ ʜᴇʀ sɪᴅᴇ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ sʜᴇ ᴅᴇsᴘᴀɪʀᴇᴅ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ, ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ? ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴍᴏsᴛ ғᴀᴛᴇʟᴇss ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀs sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍ, ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅs ᴀ ʙᴇᴅᴛɪᴍᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ, sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ's ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇ, ʟɪғᴇʟᴇssʟʏ sᴡᴀʏɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ, ʜᴇʀ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ɴᴏᴏsᴇ. sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʜᴜɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴅᴀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ sᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ sɪʟᴇɴᴛʟʏ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ sᴛʀɪɴɢɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ—ʜᴇʀ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ—ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀʀʀʏɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ᴅᴀʏ sʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴏᴏᴅ ᴡʜʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇʟᴘᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ, ᴡʜʏ sʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪs ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴇɴᴅ. ᴛʜɪs ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ, ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ?" She asked me, her tone was frigid, making me shiver.

"What happened afterwards?"

"ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ."

"What?" I tilted my head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"ᴀs ɪ sᴀɪᴅ, sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ," Agnes replied, "ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ɪs ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ sᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ. ɪᴛ ɪs ᴀs ɪғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪs ғᴜᴢᴢʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ sʜᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪᴛ, ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʜᴇʀ ʟɪғᴇ."

"Che, an anticlimactic end. But weird indeed."

"ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴏ? ᴀs ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ sᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ, ɪsɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏsᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ?" She floated towards the boy and placed her hand on his head. "ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ sᴡɪᴍᴍɪɴɢ ɪɴ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴇʟʟ. ɪᴛ ɪs ᴇɴᴅʟᴇss, ɪᴛ ɪs ᴅᴇᴇᴘ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ." She tried stroking his hair, but her hand went through. "ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴅɪsᴀᴘᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪ ғᴇᴇʟ ɪs ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴡᴀᴍ ʙʏ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴜs ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ." She balled her hands into a fist, her fingers gliding through the boy, giving him the shivers. The boy looked around, but he could not see where the feeling came from.

Another voice then intruded our conversation. "You killdz'him!" It was Chase's friend (I forgot his name), the one with the chipped teeth, who cried out his voice cracking.

He stared at me, in fear, in anger, in sorrow. His tears free flowing, while his mouth opened wide enough for his nose to wrinkle. "You killdz'him! You killdz'him!" He continued, every time he did, his tone turned more desperate.

"So?"

"You need to be punished!"

"Hah, do you want to hold a Jugdement Table?"

"Everybody saw what'ze did," he said, "we witness'd'chu crime!" He pointed his boney finger at me.

"Fool, look around, ask everybody, did they see me kill anyone?" I opened my arms.

"What'zau saying, of course zhey did, zhey—" he stopped midway, as when he stared at the crowd, he noticed they were all silent. Their faces were like masks, it was the epitome of tranquility. His eyes opened wide. "It couldn't be," he screamed then turned his head toward the judge only to realize the man avoiding his gaze.

"I remember it was you who said so few days ago. If the witnesses are in disagreement then the evidence is invalid," I said cheerfully, "live like scum, die like scum, it happens all the time. No need to fret."

"Scum?" He repeated, baffled, until all colorful emotions on his face mixed, turning into a deep black, he sniffed, holding back his tears. "What'zo u zhink a life is," he screamed with all his might, while pushing through the crowd. His friends, similarly crying, held him back, pleading for him to calm down. "We never harmed'chu. What'zo-!" the man broke down and fell to his knees. At last, he muttered, "What'zo you think?"

I smiled. "A life?" I twirled around, my dress swinging in the wind. Meanwhile I whistled a cheerful tune, joyfully dancing in the arena. "Hm, it's very valuable. But I like taking valuables. I am a swindler after all. Agnes the swindler, has a nice ring to it." I jumped in the air, until I stopped in front of Chase corpse, and squatted down and looked at him. I was still smiling. "I don't care what you guys do. But when you go around parading yourself, you need to bear the consequences."

I saw from his expression that he did not understand. Ah, even though it was so simple, really. I am a firm believer, that neither evil nor good exists—only selfishness, driven by our values. I called myself a villain, but only because that was the easiest definition for 'normal' people to understand. A world without villains or heroes, that would truly be nice.

He was stunned silent. "We never kill'd anybody," he interjected weakly.

"We humans have different values. This only meant his life was worth so much." I then disregarded the man and faced the boy. "So kiddo, I will ask you one question, these rules- no this world, do you change it, or will you live with it?"

The kid was still processing all the information, and did not realize I was calling him out. Only when I stared at him, and our eyes met, did he break out his stupor. He pondered shortly, before his gaze turned sharp.

"I will live with it," he answered with determination.

"Good answer." I nodded. "Very like you."

I took a deep breath and looked at the crowd one last time. They, too, looked at me silently, unfathomable emotions on their frozen face, as if they stood at a libation, but also liberation. I nodded once more, before I walked away.

I hopped over the fence, carefully so that I wouldn't trip and embarrass myself.

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ, ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ?" Agnes told me after the brief silence, "strong enough to be ruthless."

"Me? Strong?" I giggled out loud, "not at all. I am weak. It is because I am weak that I have to resort to this; only the strong can afford to be nice, otherwise you are just a fool. People like me, we have to take the second best path to survive, and that sometimes requires hard choices."

"ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ sᴏ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ," she looked at me, "sᴀʏ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀʏ?"

"Am I not the devil? I was born like this. Raised from perdition to wreak havoc. A lovely job, if you asked me."

"ɴᴏ," she interrupted me, "ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀɴᴇ. ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ. ɪs ɪᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇɴᴠɪʀᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ sʜᴀᴘᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ɴᴏ?"

"Well," I paused, "there is still a lot that you don't know about me."

"ɪᴛ's ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛʜᴇɴ," she said, and promptly jumped at me.

She curled her arms around my neck, her radiant but devilish smile hung in from of me, and before I grasped the situation, her lips touched mine. My eyebrows abruptly shot up, and I sprung backwards, almost tumbling to the ground. I touched my lips and then stared at her in shock. A lingering taste of cherries, soft and smooth.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She laughed exaggeratedly, swinging in the air while holding her belly. "ɪᴛ sᴇᴇᴍᴇᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋs. ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪs ɴɪɢʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ғᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴɢ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴇ."

"I'm not," I told her flatly.

"ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ɪ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ. ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴠᴀʟᴜᴀʙʟᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ᴋɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ." She laughed louder, almost tearing up and told me, "ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʟᴜsʜɪɴɢ."

"I'm not."

She ignored my denial and hummed along, her mind already drifting into uncharted territory. Every so often, I saw a scary glint flash by her pupils, making me shiver.

About sexuality—there's one thing I got wrong. I don't let myself be defined by them, but not all loves are equal. There's one thing I love more than anything, and that is myself. And 'myself', I guess, is currently Agnes Maria.