The Genesis of the Dead

Why? Why was Neir's fate so horrible? Why did the world give him something only to snatch it away the next moment? What was the point? His vision blurred, and despite the freezing cold, an uncomfortably large amount of sweat poured down his narrow face. His teeth chattered, and his legs trembled. He felt his heartbeat quicken, each pulse pounding in his ears.

Meanwhile, the person who caused all this merely stood still, seeming to see straight through him, barely paying attention. Was he just a bug in this man's eyes? Neir tried to formulate a plan, but fear clouded his thoughts.

Then he saw it! His right arm, though hidden under what appeared to be a cloak, was visibly wounded. Nothing escaped Neir's sharp eyes! If he played his cards right, he might see another day.

"Pl-please, just l-let me g-go. I w-w-won't say anyt-anything," Neir stammered as he slowly moved backward. "Y-you see th-that sword r-right? It's very va-v-valuable. Ju-just let me g-go, and it's y-yours!"

The figure tilted his head toward the begging man, watching Neir languidly increase the distance between them. His expression remained unchanged as he closed the gap, unhurriedly. Neir panicked, surprised that this man's sole focus was on him rather than the blade.

"W-wait, I'll d-do anything!" he begged, moving faster without taking his eyes off the monster before him. His hand slowly crept into his pocket.

The figure neither increased nor decreased his pace, maintaining a single-minded pursuit of Neir. What terrified Neir most were the eyes. Typically, eyes showed emotion—rage, fear, panic, lust, joy—some kind of feeling. But this figure's eyes were empty. Dead.

"H-hang on! Wa-wait! I c-ca-can help yo-you! I can m-make you r-rich! I'll ev-even be your sl-slave! I'll..." Neir's voice trailed off as he continued his desperate pleas, trying to stave off his impending doom. Why wouldn't this thing stop? Why couldn't it be reasoned with? Surely it must want something!

Despite his endless bargains, the figure only drew closer, his eyes vacant as he stared into Neir's. The scythe in his left hand glinted in the morning light.

"PLEASE! I-I-I DON'T WANT THIS! HAVE MERCY! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" Neir screamed, panicking as the figure came within arm's reach.

For the first time, something flickered in those lifeless eyes, not regular emotion, but curiosity. The figure slowed, stopping a foot away. "Why are you scared?" he asked.

"Huh?" Neir's confusion was palpable. This was the man trying to kill him! Of course he was scared! His fear quickly gave way to anger.

"I asked why you are frightened. What exactly do you fear?" the figure repeated.

"Stop messing with me! Are you some sick pervert who gets off on this shit?!"

"I do not understand," the figure said with visible confusion. "I fail to grasp why you are scared."

"You're trying to kill me! Of course I'm scared!"

"The other one was not afraid. He fought without the shackles of terror. Why are you different?"

Neir couldn't believe he was having this conversation. This psychopath was clearly insane, but maybe, just maybe, he could find an opening...

"You mean that moronic leader of mine? He was the strange one! I'm sure he got some kind of pleasure from it or something. How should I know? He wasn't right in the head!"

"So fear is the normal reaction to death?"

"Of course it is!" Neir shouted, exasperated.

"Why?"

"You and your whys! Because we're talking about death!"

"And why does death scare you?"

Neir nearly pulled his hair out in frustration but played along, waiting for a chance.

"Because that's it! That's all she wrote! You become a corpse and nobody cares! That's why normal, sane people are afraid of dying!"

"But you are already dying..."

"What?" Neir asked, taken aback.

"Your life will naturally end. Whether I intervene or not, you will eventually die. So why are you afraid?"

"That's..." Neir tried to argue but faltered. Then, an idea formed in his mind...

"Alright, fine. I'll tell you why I'm afraid, but only if you let me live and leave."

"No."

"What? I thought you wanted to know the answer!" Neir was baffled. This man was insufferable.

"I do wish to understand," the figure replied, "but letting you live contradicts my purpose. Our bargain is void." He stepped forward again.

"W-WAIT! I'LL TELL YOU!" Neir shrieked.

The figure stopped, waiting for Neir to continue. Neir saw an opportunity and prepared to gamble everything.

"OK, the reason I'm af—" Neir abruptly threw a dagger aimed at the figure's injured right side, targeting a vital spot that might prove fatal. Without pausing to see the outcome, he sprinted toward the sword. If he reached it, he could at least fight back, even if his foe survived!

He dashed with every fiber of his being and closed the distance in seconds. He reached out for the sword, mere centimeters away. Just a bit further! Wealth, power, respect, all within reach. His life would finally have meaning.

His fingers touched the blade, and agony unlike anything he'd ever known seared through him. It lasted only a moment but felt like an eternity. He staggered and switched direction, running blindly. 'Shit!' he thought. He didn't know what caused the pain, but he had to ignore it and escape. He had no idea where the other monsters were.

Before he could go far, searing pain shot through his neck. A skeleton, its hollow eyes glowing faintly with purple light, looked past him as though he hadn't existed. To Neir, that light was hauntingly beautiful, the last thing he would ever see with his extraordinary eyes.

'I don't want to die...' he thought helplessly. So close. Despite all the wrongs done to him and the wrongs he had done, he had come so close. He could have left behind a life of starvation and petty crime. He could have been someone respected, someone with dignity. If only the world hadn't conspired against him. If only he'd had a chance. If only he could live just a little longer...