The street was almost empty at this late hour. The streetlights cast a pale glow, slicing the shadows into long, uneven streaks. I walked without direction, clutching a bottle of alcohol in my hand. My face already seemed detached from the world, my eyes dead. Every step cost me immense effort. I wasn't moving to go anywhere; I was walking just to keep from collapsing.
The cold wind slipped beneath my too-light jacket, but I no longer shivered. The alcohol was only a temporary anesthetic. What gnawed at me was deeper, older, constant. I felt like I was living in a world that had rejected me from the start, a world that had never made room for me. The emptiness around me seemed to mirror that feeling.
I stopped in front of my building and lifted my eyes to the dark windows. No curtain moved. No light awaited me. I inhaled slowly, as if preparing to step into a tomb. No one would ask how I was doing; no one would say my name. I turned the key in the lock, and the sharp sound echoed through the silent hallway. The apartment was cold, empty, frozen. Even the air seemed motionless.
I crossed the living room without turning on the light. I knew every piece of furniture by heart. Every wall bore the weight of my isolation. My steps carried me to my bedroom. I set the bottle on the floor without even looking at it and let myself fall onto the bed like a body without energy. Tears filled my eyes almost immediately. I bit my lip until I tasted the metallic tang of blood. "I can't… take it anymore," I whispered, my voice broken. I didn't seek to be heard; I just wanted to empty what was inside me.
The sobs came without restraint. My chest contracted painfully with every breath. "Why… why…" I repeated over and over, not seeking an answer but trying to escape reality. It wasn't just the breakup. It was everything: the fourth time I had fallen in love, the fourth time I gave everything, the fourth time I was left behind like a useless object. The first three times, I endured, I got up silently, convinced that one day it would be different. But this time, something had shattered for good. I no longer had the strength to start over.
I was only nineteen, yet I had already faced losses that many adults never knew. Orphaned since I was eleven, I had learned to survive alone. My last relationship had become my only refuge, and that refuge had just collapsed. My ex's words still echoed in my mind, clear and cruel. "You're pathetic… You really thought two years of a relationship would change anything? Let me laugh. I'll never love someone like you… My time with you was just entertainment." Every word was a blade.
I slowly sat up and let my gaze drift toward the window. The night air seemed to call to me. A clear, cold thought came: a simple, quick, definitive end. I rose almost mechanically. I opened the window. The wind rushed into the room. I was only on the second floor, not very high, but enough. I placed one foot on the metal grate. "Mom… Dad… I'll join you soon… I hope at least you'll welcome me," I whispered.
Just as I was about to lean forward, a voice sounded in the room. It wasn't loud, it wasn't shouted. It seemed to float in the air, as if the walls themselves were speaking. "You want to end it… young man?" My heart raced violently. I slowly turned my head inward. The darkness seemed thicker than before. A presence occupied the space.
Sitting on my desk, a man watched me calmly. He appeared adult, but I couldn't guess his age. Small horns peeked out from his dark hair. His red eyes glimmered behind thin glasses. A thick book rested on his thighs. My legs trembled. I wanted to scream, to call for help, but no sound came out. Who would believe me? Who could help me? A chilling fear ran through me, yet a strange lucidity stopped me from fleeing.
"Who are you… and how did you get in?" I asked hesitantly. The man slowly closed his book. His gaze didn't leave me. "I am no one you need to know. And I don't need a door." A shiver ran through me. Yet part of me was not surprised, as if, deep down, I had been waiting for something irrational. "You want to end it," the man repeated calmly. I laughed briefly, tired. "Isn't it obvious?"
The man tilted his head slightly. "What if I offered you a deal?" The word hung in the air. I descended slowly from the window. "What kind of deal?" The man stood. In an instant, he was in front of me without seeming to move. "I can take away this pain in your chest. The one that has haunted you for years." His red eyes glowed faintly.
I let out a shaky laugh. "Impossible. The only way to stop feeling it is to die." My voice trembled, but I continued. "So stop with your nonsense." The man stepped closer. "I can do it." The certainty in his tone was absolute. I felt fear and hope mingle inside me. It was insane. But what if he was telling the truth?
Tears returned, quieter this time. "I don't want to suffer anymore," I whispered. "I want it gone. No matter the cost." My shoulders slumped. I abandoned all caution. A slight smile spread across the man's lips. "I will grant your wish. You will never feel this pain again. No one will ever be able to hurt you." His words were deliberate, almost solemn.
I lifted my eyes. "You can really do that?" My voice was no longer ironic. It was full of expectation. "Of course," the man replied. He opened the book he was holding. The pages were covered in strange, moving writing. "You just need to sign here." A quill appeared between my fingers, black and shining.
I didn't hesitate. Not for a second. I took the quill and wrote my name: Lorian. The ink seemed to absorb the light. When I finished, I lifted my head. "Is that it?" The man's smile widened slightly. "Yes. No one will ever be able to hurt you again." He closed the book with a thud.
A strange sensation immediately filled my body, as if something had been ripped from my chest. My heart beat slower. My thoughts blurred. My eyelids grew heavy. I wanted to speak, to ask a question, but my tongue refused to move. The world around me seemed to dissolve. I fell back onto my bed.
Before losing consciousness, I thought I saw his red eyes shine brighter. The man watched me without visible emotion. He seemed neither satisfied nor cruel. Simply certain. Then everything went black. The room returned to its original silence. The wind stopped blowing. The man had disappeared, as if he had never been there.
I had just made a pact without understanding its consequences. Had I made an irreversible mistake, or had I opened the door to a new existence? One thing was certain: when I woke up, I would no longer be the same.