Journey of the Son of Ares

Aurelius and Amadeus had been gone for some time. Damian just walked outside for a while before going back into the carriage. His fingers ached. He was happy he had gotten feeling back. At the same time, he was extremely pained for the exact same reason.

That pain would have turned into resentment if a primal fear didn't linger in the back of his mind. No matter how many times Aurelius whined in his sleep, he was still the same man who had severed his fingers and walked past like nothing happened. Damian blinked and could see how his eyes gleamed coldly with brain matter splattered all over. His shoulders shivered as he sat on his bed. Then he looked up at Auelius' side, his gaze passing Amadeus' mattress on the floor.

Unconsciously his eyes drifted to the rectangular bulge in his bag. The black notebook.

Damian resisted the urge but soon found himself with the notebook in his hands. He enhanced his senses with a quick setup before reading with his back to the door.

The first page was... there was no first page. Only rough tears on the side. It had been ripped out. Violently at that. But why? Aurelius worshipped the damn book.

The whole first page was short passages, scribbled over indecipherably. There was a drop on the roof. Damian shook before scrambling to turn around. Nobody there. It was just beginning to rain. Damian cursed with a deep breath and considered åutting the notebook back, but opened it again.

Slowly, he turned the page. The sight of it made his eyes flinch away. It was a drawing, one of extreme detail that seemed to have been obsessed over for hours. He looked back slowly.

'The Idea of a Human?' he thought with a gulp.

It was the most horrid art piece he had ever seen. If it could be called that. Severed arms and legs surrounded a nailed corpse in circles and squares.

'Did Aurelius make this?'

When he had realized Aurelius to be the liveD, he had confirmed to himself that the rumors were exaggerated. He was a man of unbelievable power. Not unbelievable cruelty. At least that's what Damian told himself to work with him. But as he looked upon the Idea of a Human, he could see it. The way Aurelius looked as he dragged corpses to a flagpole and what followed.

It was said that the face of the liveD was the mark of death. If you saw it, the next time you would feel the sun on your skin was when it radiated on your mutilated corpse. Damian was beginning to wonder if it had been a lengthened sentence.

He flipped the page as droplets began to echo on the roof of the carriage. On the top rows, there were numbers scribbled followed by entries. The writing was erratic like he had just written any word that came to mind without any care for cohesiveness. It wasn't anything to look back on. Just something to get out of. No regard for structure. Just words.

'I am not a man. They are not men. This is not life,' Damian read.

His eyes went through the mess of words some of which were softly written with a loose hand while others were written like the aim was to scratch through the page.

'I'm killing nothing. It's all a net. The world.'

Page four.

'I'm positive. They negative. They are. Definitely.'

Page six.

'I don't talk. They see me gesture. They nod.'

'Nobody likes me. I'm glad. Though, they should hate me. I am what they hate. They just don't want to admit it.'

Page eight was destroyed with scribbles. He looked closer. Under the scribbles, he could see the headline. 'Mission one. Done.' In the middle there was one word, 'Haha.'

Page nine was a drawing. Damian didn't know what it was. He didn't want to know. He moved.

Page twelve made him stop.

'Today... I think... want to end it. Kill myself,' he read. 'I will. Want. Won't. Now. Not now. After. It's done. All safe. I will leave this world. Leave it behind. I don't want to see any more. No more. This fi...'

The door opened. Damian felt his heart jump and the notebook flew from his numb hands. He turned with a beg on his lips, but he already felt dead.

It was the coachman.

Damian forced his expression felt and held his breath while he grabbed the notebook off the ground calmly. He breathed inaudibly through his nose.

"Um, 'scuse me, Sir. Did the man tell when he would be back?"

Damian shook his head. "They will surely be back in just a while. Is there a problem?"

"Naw, no problem, Sir. Horseys need the rest. Just mapping out the schedule. Some paths can't go in dark, ya know."

Damian nodded.

"Well, thas that then. I'll leave ya," the man waved a hand and shut the door.

Damian's shoulders slumped as he felt his heart. It was punching his chest. He needed to put it away. How didn't he notice the man's approach? He enhanced his senses again and moved to the back.

All for him to open it again.

He scrolled through the pages. Then there was one that caught his eye. It was not far from the beginning. The whole page was black. Just black. He looked at the opposite page. Violent was a subtle way to describe the writing.

'What is WRONG with people? They're sick. It's a sickness. Did she see it? This. Did she see?'

'Not even an animal would do something like that.'

'They are dead. By my word, they die.'

There were scribbled sketches on the bottom of the page. Was that... Damian gulped... A flag pole?

The rain got louder. Filled his head. The light shine shone less. Damian squinted as he squatted. He should have put the book back.

Nevertheless, he read the very bottom line, 'I hate this fucking world. I HATE IT.'

'Outside. Footsteps!' Damian yelled to himself and put the book back with hate. He had memorized every little detail and made it exactly as it was.

He jumped up and walked to the door slowly. The door opened in his face and saw Aurelius. He climbed into the carriage with his head crouched. He felt even larger than before. Had his posture changed?

He looked at Damian with eyes that seemed... normal. "What is it?"

"Ah, nothing. Nothing." Damian got out of the way and wondered what he was even doing.

Amadeus seemed in a wonderful mood as he walked in. He was completely dry. Damian wondered how but immediately remembered Aurelius.

"Hey, if you want, I can sleep on the mattress," Aurelius offered Amadeus.

Amadeus began denying profusely while rambling on about something. It was eery just looking at the pair. Images flashed in Damian's mind as he looked at Aurelius' expression of normality. He didn't even want to know what his mind really looked like.

He swallowed and was about to leave to tell the coachmen they could move. That's when he noticed Aurelius staring at his bag. At that pocket. Damian's chest froze. He was about to say something to stray his attention but noticed his tongue trembling. He turned instinctively and was about to walk out when Aurelius turned to look at him. He walked a few steps and was in front of Damian.

How? How? How? How? How?!

Damian pointed outside. He opened his mouth. No words would come.

Aurelius looked outside where rain fell.

"Wha—" Damian tried.

Then his feet were already off the ground. Aurelius was still looking out of the door. Damian didn't even know if Aurelius had enhanced, but he had never felt more fear. All air left him and he was about to kick Aurelius but stopped himself. Nothing was more useless. If Aurelius wanted to... Hell, if he even squeezed a little on accident, the things Damian called his bones would be nothing but shattered glass inside his throat.

Damian looked to Amadeus, begging. He had backed away and was just standing still with his slack-jawed.

Damian gasped as black spots appeared in his squeezing eyes. Then Aurelius let him drop to his ass.

Only then did he look at Damian with a frown. "Your second offense," he said. "There won't be a third."

Damian nodded as he curled up grasping his numb throat, taking in air with large hoarse gasps.

Aurelius walked back to his bed and sat down, staring at the ground. "Sorry. That was..."

Who was he speaking to?

"Amadeus."

"Yes?" he asked immediately. If he had fear, he didn't show it.

"Go tell the coachmen. We have to move."

Amadeus agreed and moved quickly. When he was gone, Damian had managed to relax. He still didn't get up. He just watched Aurelius who sat there with a dark frown coupled with squinted eyes and thought back.

Back to when he had first approached Aurelius sitting alone on that dock in Mircrest. At that moment he knew, Aurelius' writings were correct. At some point, he really had killed himself.