A quick look inside the minds of one man.

A dream I had, take it as a story as dreams aren't real life. Although I still remember the feel of the flames and the weight of the blade.

Standing on a hill-top, beside an old oak tree, two men stare out over the horizon. The smaller of the two cannot believe his eyes as the world around him burns, and from miles away he hears the pleas of the innocent and guilty alike. They beg for mercy, for an end to the pain, but he can do nothing to help them. Everything but this little patch of earth is engulfed in searing heat and glowing light, only this little haven exists because the taller man wishes it to. As time passes, the smaller man expects the fires to dim and run out of fuel for the flames, but even as he stands there, the voices never waver. Their masters burning for what must seem an eternity to them. He turns to his taller companion and sees no compassion on the in-human face, only two twinkling yellow eyes above an invisible mouth. The man speaks, but uses no words.

'All of this, is your doing.' He gestures to the world around them both and manages to look magnanimous, as if showing a great treasure room. The smaller man hears more voices now, the voices of friends, family and loved ones. All calling his name, asking for him. Asking what happened. He stands firm under the watchful eye of the taller man. His companion stands almost a full foot taller, slim build and light blue flesh, as if a corpse could walk and talk. The strangest part of this man, is his eyes. The pupils resemble reptilian slits more than human eyes, and almost amber in colour. Drapped over his shoulders, is a robe and the hood covers the majority of his face with shadow, but the firelight reaches underneath and what can be seen, could not be described as remotely human.

'You are doing this to them.' He repeats, impassive as always.

'That's not true!' The smaller man screams, though still staring, still listening.

'You know it is, you've always known it would be.' Now the limp arms at his sides reach inside the robe. All around them, the fires grow, the heat is almost reaching their hill-top.

'What are you doing?!' The man asks, but is only answered by the other handing him a blade, nothing special, just an ordinary knife, but sharp. Keenly so.

'Take your life and it will all be over.' The figure implied.

'Take my life?' He mutters, looking down at the knife. He hates to admit it, but it all makes sense. He had never been meant for this world, and by being here. He'd caused the grief and suffering of all those he cared about. The figure of a man simply watches the horizon with a soft smile touching only the corners of a would-be mouth.

'All this pain, all this suffering. What are you waiting for, did you not want a way to make up for all of it, were you not looking to make it better?' Suggestive, knowing they both knew the answer was yes.

'If I take my life, it will all be over, all these screams.. All this pain... It will all stop?' The smaller man speaks no louder than a whisper, but the other has heard and now stands at arms length.

'Yes.' No question, it must be true. As they stand there, like statues frozen in time, the world falling into ruin all around them, he hears another voice. One deeply etched with a pain too strong, it hurts just to listen. And in that moment, the smaller man draws the blade to his throat and lets all the anguish, all the suffering pool at his feet. The taller man watches until he falls to his knees, head slumped forward and blade laying uselessly by an open hand and then picks up the blade and puts it once more into the shades of his robe.

As the world falls into darkness, as the voices fade into nothing he feels the heat intensify once more.
Suddenly I wake with cold sweat dripping from my face and hair. The voices still ringing in my ear. The vision of the world burning clear in my mind and the expectant look on the man's face as he hands me the knife.

Author's Note

As you will.