The man with gray hair pulled up a chair and sat in front of me. Neither of us moved. We just exchanged looks in silence. I was trying to process what was happening, while he seemed to be watching me closely.
Then he broke the silence:
"Aren't you going to try to escape?"
I didn't answer immediately. Honestly, why would I? And even if I wanted to, where would I run?
When I didn't speak, he clasped his fingers on the table and said in a slightly softer tone that still carried some sharpness:
"You seem to realize there's no way out, don't you?"
A short laugh slipped out of me:
"What? No way out?"
I pointed lazily toward the door.
"Because I can see it right there, and unless I'm mistaken, I have legs I can use."
He didn't seem affected by my sarcasm. He simply sighed and said:
"Of course, you can stand up, you can even touch the handle, but do you really think you'll be able to leave?"
There was something in his tone that made me pause. He wasn't challenging me or trying to scare me. He spoke like someone who knew something I didn't. I looked again at the door, then back at him. There was no lock, no guards, and yet I didn't move. I wasn't sure why. Maybe I just wanted to see what he would do.
"Let's make this quick."
He raised his finger, pointing at me, and continued:
"Hand over all the System Pieces you have, and I promise you a quick end. Maybe even a merciful one."
"System Pieces?" I repeated slowly, deliberately.
The man frowned slightly. My response clearly didn't please him. Then he let out a short laugh.
"Really? Is this what we're doing now?"
He pointed at himself in an exaggerated, dramatic gesture.
"If there's anyone here who gets to pretend they've lost their mind, it's me, not you."
My mind was working in the background, trying to make sense of this absurd situation. Nothing he said made any sense. In fact, nothing in this place felt logical.
I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. Maybe... maybe this is just a dream? Yes, that would be the only reasonable explanation.
"So, what do you say? Will you give me the System Pieces? Maybe then, just maybe, I'll show you some mercy."
"Absolutely. As soon as I figure out what those pieces are, I'll be the first to hand them over."
He sighed with exaggerated disappointment and shook his head:
"Seems like you don't want a merciful end, Jevan. What a shame."
Jevan? My smile froze. Who's Jevan? Was he talking about me? Or is that the name of this body's original owner?
I didn't have time to think. Before I could even speak, he moved, no, disappeared in less than a second and appeared right in front of me. All I saw was a flash before his hand grabbed my collar and lifted me off the ground effortlessly.
I tried to raise my hands to push him off, but his fingers wrapped around my neck. I tried to inhale, but air had become a distant luxury.
I hesitated, then said with a broken voice:
"Alright, I was trying to hide it, but I guess I'll have to tell you."
"Finally, Jevan. You finally decided to talk. I thought your stubbornness would last longer."
I forced myself to stay calm, even though I was trembling with fear. But I couldn't let him see any hesitation. I took a deep breath and spoke before he could say another word:
"Let me make something clear. First, I'm not Jevan. Second, I have no idea what you mean by 'System Pieces' and I don't know where they are."
His smile disappeared. My hand trembled as he moved, but he didn't hit me. Instead, he punched the wall beside my face so hard the wooden panel shattered, and the splinters flew, some scratching my cheek.
"I expected a smarter lie. But no matter. Let's see how long you can hold onto it."
His grip on my neck tightened even more before he slammed me into the ground. My body crashed into the wooden floor with crushing force. The floor beneath me cracked and broke apart.
Damn it. I don't think I'll be standing anytime soon.
"Speak, you bastard!"
He shouted in a hysterical rage, leaning over me like a predator ready to rip apart its prey.
"Where are the System Pieces? Or should I cut the answer out of you, piece by piece?"
Despite the pain tearing through every part of my body, I couldn't stop a bitter sarcasm from seeping into my voice. I gave a joyless smile and said:
"Like I told you..."
I gasped before continuing:
"I'm not that person. I don't know that name. Maybe you should look for Jevan somewhere else?"
The aura around him turned more savage. In one swift motion, he raised his silver dagger. In a flash, before I could even react, I felt the cold blade sink into my arm.
"As I said before, Jevan, I want to end this with as little pain as possible. But you're making it harder for both of us."
I clenched my teeth as my mind fought to stay conscious through the pain.
"Well, I want the same thing. But I honestly don't know where this thing called the 'System Pieces' is."
My words seemed to confuse him for a moment. Then he burst into laughter, filled with contempt.
"Is this your survival plan? Pretending to know nothing?"
He didn't give me a chance to answer. His grip on the dagger tightened, and he yanked it out of my arm violently.
Blood splattered everywhere, hitting the walls and the floor. He looked at it, then laughed long and maniacally.
Calmly, in complete contrast to his savagery, he rolled up the sleeve of his black coat and wiped the blade. Then he said:
"You know, Jevan, I always hated your stupidity. Why not just confess and get this over with?"
His fingers still gripped the dagger tightly. He stabbed it into my shoulder, then leaned in so close I could feel his breath burning my skin. He whispered into my ear:
"Can you feel that? That's the price of lying. And this is just the beginning. You still have more to give me, Jevan. More pain. More truth."
Even as my body collapsed, I managed to smirk.
"Oh, brilliant. Finally, someone decided to teach me a lesson in honesty by stabbing me. Why didn't I think of that before? You truly have a fascinating philosophy."
I added, challenging him:
"And now, genius, could you stop acting insane for a second, use your brain if you have one and listen to me? I'm not Jevan and I have no idea what nonsense you're talking about."
I could see his fingers tighten on the dagger, his expression twisting in rage. I knew I was pushing him over the edge, but honestly, I had nothing left to lose.
Without warning, he tore the dagger out of my arm again. It felt like my soul was being ripped out with it. Blood covered my skin and soaked my clothes. The metallic smell filled the air.
The man with gray hair said:
"Still resisting, huh?"
Then he smiled. Not out of mockery or triumph. It was the smile of a sick man who enjoys tearing others apart slowly. He stared at me for a moment, then said in a cold, emotionless voice:
"This is fun. Very fun. You can keep lying, Jevan, but I promise you, I'll drag the truth out of your ribs if I have to."
He raised the dagger again, staring at the blood on its blade. Then he moved closer, his voice softer:
"Each stab brings us closer to the truth."
He said while turning the dagger between his fingers:
"The truth, Jevan, is nothing but pure pain."
At that moment, I truly regretted everything. Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut? Couldn't I have been more careful, more rational? But no, of course not. I had to throw sarcastic remarks at a lunatic with a blade.
I exhaled with difficulty and muttered bitterly to myself:
"Brilliant plan. Instead of trying to survive, I decided to provoke a madman. Genius move."
But let's be honest, this wasn't my fault. No, the blame is on this body, on its original owner. Why in the world did he get involved with a psycho like this?
My eyes automatically looked up at him, and that wide smile was still stuck on his face.
He didn't give me a chance. He didn't let me breathe. He kept stabbing me, randomly and without pause. Like a crazed artist painting his masterpiece with my blood.
Then, in a tone far too calm for what he was doing, he said:
"Still resisting, Jevan? All you have to do is speak the truth. Where is the System? Why make it harder on yourself?"
I gathered the last remnants of my broken dignity, lifted my head with difficulty, and said, as if comforting myself before provoking him one last time:
"Oh, right. How could I forget? The great secret I've been hiding the System under my pillow all along."
His expression froze for a moment. The rage in his eyes turned into something else confusion or maybe surprise? But it didn't last. He exploded with laughter. Blood trickled from my mouth, the metallic taste filling my throat, making my sarcasm even more bitter.
I don't know why I said that. Maybe because I knew I was finished. Or maybe, deep down, I just wanted to annoy him one last time before I died. He stared at me, his face full of frustration and fury. I thought he would speak, but he didn't. He didn't even give me the luxury of a reply. Without warning, he stabbed the dagger into my chest.
I gasped, lost control of my breath for a moment, but then I laughed a hoarse, broken laugh filled with sarcasm and despair, like I was mocking the world itself.
"You know..." I whispered.
"I always thought I'd die in a more epic way. Something big. Something worth remembering. But it seems my fate is to die at the hands of a lunatic who can't even interrogate properly."
He didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood there, staring at the pool of blood. Then, in a quiet voice, he said:
"This is the result of your choices. Always remember that, Jevan."
The pain didn't fade because it stopped, but because I couldn't feel anything anymore. My limbs grew heavy, the walls began to melt into each other.
Was this what it felt like to leave?
And with the last thread of awareness, I heard his voice. This time, it wasn't angry. It wasn't mocking. It carried something else. Something I couldn't understand.
Something like pity.
"You're still just as stupid as you were, my old friend."
My friend...?
I tried to think. Tried to process his words. But the darkness was already consuming me, dragging me to a far-off place. A place with no sound, no feeling, no pain.
Was this the end?
All that struggle, all that suffering, just to die like this? No glory. No meaning. Just a cheap end for a man who shouldn't have been here in the first place.
I laughed or tried to. It was a weak, broken laugh, barely leaving my throat.
"How pathetic."
And then, finally, there was nothing.