[The next round shall commence in:]
[15:03:56]
—The Narrator has made the character, Oliver Snape, a part of the story.
—The second round will begin in fifteen hours.
—The Narrator said, "A mere character has no use in the intermission."
A droplet of salty water dropped from Oliver’s tear ducts, falling down his cheek.
He sighed in a way that was almost like a bellow.
"My poor, poor, poor Archie." He sniffled. Then stopped abruptly, staring above him as though an angel had descended. He gasped at whatever he was gazing at. "I knew it..! Archie, you could not have left me alone. You are unable to. You miss my presence, as I do with yours."
He dropped to the floor, his fist knotted on his chest, coughing.
"Ah...I am in pain..." Blood splurted out of his mouth, splattering on the floor. "When you think about it...
"...everything seems to originate from...words: the ancient’s Bible, their Qur’an, perhaps...even us as humans...beyond there is nothing...but another being..."
His eyes were glazed and lifeless, almost enlightened.
"...eh...an anomaly...?" His last few words were as follows: "Fourth....Wall Brea...ker...I understand now, Archie."
His body collapsed wholly on the ground, rendering him almost lifeless.
His final words being: "There is no...difference between us humans...and the characters of a novel controlled...by one being."
The death of a kidnapper was not something to be depressed about.
Even then, the death of anybody was common.
Especially in a matter like the rounds.
But it was too sudden and it ended oh so quickly.
I had no time to contemplate my feelings.
I had never even managed to question him of his intentions.
As though it was divine intervention and the angels had willed it, he died as swiftly as our sudden meeting.
I had already experienced this once.
I had to get used to this.
During the rounds, unexpected and unelaborated deaths were bound to happen.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have the right to be confused.
Oliver Snape.
It was a name that I had never heard of before.
He claimed that he and Archie were childhood friends.
Taking a gander of my previous memories and conversations with Archie, I didn’t think he ever mentioned him. Not once, not twice, not at all.
Oliver Snape was such a character that he would be unforgettable, not in a good or daring way.
He stumbled on his words and seemed to worship Archie.
From my standpoint during his death, he last saw Archie as some sort of angel descending to take him to heaven.
Or, most likely, hell.
"What to do..."
I contemplated as I attempted to nudge my way out of the straitjacket.
Then, I had an idea.
It seemed like I was only capable of stupid ideas, but they all ended up working anyway.
Rising from the operating table, I lost my footing and fell off the table.
My legs were also chained together.
I had experience in this from my time in the mental ward.
Recalling nothing but white cushioned walls as bleak as the Eisenblad State Hospital, I took a deep breath.
And it managed to loosen the jacket around my elbow for a moment.
I continued doing and breathing this same maneuver for a few minutes.
Slipping out of the straight jacket, I felt something heavy holding down my legs, which happened to a thick metal chain and lock.
I was wondering what was so heavy...
This was the idea I had planned from the beginning, before deciding to do the simplest of them.
I leaned forward down to my tightly wrapped metal chain of my legs.
By the way, did you know that tooth enamel is stronger than your body’s bones?
I took a bite of my knee, the bone cracking in the process.
-
The process of regenerating all parts below my knee took more than fifty minutes, for it included the bone.
A tooth or two had fallen in the process but was regenerated in a few minutes.
[The next round shall commence in:]
[13:53:17]
Relocating my jaw to its proper place after having used it in the wrong way with the flat of my palm, I left the hospital after looking for the combat boots that I had saved up for, only to be taken away by Oliver. In the end, I managed to find it in the operating room where I was kidnapped.
It was strange that where Oliver took me was a place even I, who had worked in the hospital, did not know about: the basement.
In it was a mortuary wherein all the bodies had been snatched, leaving the doors of each freezer open and flapping.
The walls were stark as were the upper levels.
I took my time walking alongside rubble, shattered concrete walls and glass, and the grimy run-over flesh of animals like rats.
I didn’t like nor did I dislike animals, but they were living beings that had the intelligence quotient of a toddler. They were incapable of thinking for themselves, and seeing them in the middle of the apocalypse...I couldn’t help but feel bad.
Their bodies were crushed by a behemoth, I’d think with this particular one that lay on the road in front of Eisenblad State Hospital.
I had enough time, so I shovelled dirt with my hands to make a hole, grime being pushed below my fingernails. The cat, who had since passed away after being stepped on by a behemoth, or, most likely, got run over and has been decaying ever since, was raised by me and placed into the hole.
For once, I had felt good for doing a good thing.
Then, being the cynic I was, I thought: being a pessimist was part of my nihilistic yet manly essence.
There was still a whole lot of time before the second round so I decided to follow through my first decision: visiting the Fleming family’s graveyard.
What were the chances that the graveyard has been since demolished? Or, could it have been attacked by a pack of behemoths?