Stigma. Was It Really His Soul?[A TCF Oneshot.]

Oneshot-5.

-Don't you think this would not be interesting if it was this easy?

Cale finally understood what it meant to not be able to face despair.

He finally understood that he had it easy in the other world.

He could face and accept despair there.

B-but...here...

"You deranged bastard, stop this fuckery."

Cale Henituse looked at those ominous red eyes staring at him directly.

-..Ha! You really won't cry until you see the coffin in front of you?

Cale scoffed. He'd suffered more than half the world had, already.

What more could this bastard bring him?

Oh how wrong he was.

Cale Henituse committed the biggest sin of his life by underestimating 'despair'.

By thinking he won over despair.

Who was to say, that it would be alright as long as he did not fear despair?

Would others be the same?

Would the one, who feared it, still act the same?

Of course, the answer was a no.

Cale Henituse learned that in the most brutal way possible.

-Cale Henituse, look, this is you, yet it isn't you at all!

The red eyes shone with excitement akin to a little child as the voice echoed.

What the reddish-brown eyes saw, left the owner frozen.

It was a future he knew yet didn't know at all.

The destructive future. Yet, it was quite different from what he knew.

-See and commit it to your memory, for this is going to be your own future soon~!

"I do not accept such bullshit coming from a bastard like you."

Cale had to stand his ground. He could only do so much as a mere human.

He had survived through it all.

He will survive through it all.

But,

He was but a powerless human.

So, how did this arrogant human even have the thought of refuting and ridiculing a god even though this one was sealed?

Of course, those rapidly changing light in the red eyes now clearly reflected anger.

-I see. It's a pity.

Those were the last things he heard as he felt himself drown.

Drown in blood.

****

"You're awake."

He heard his own voice call out to him.

Cale looked around to find himself alone, his surroundings quiet and bloody.

He tried to lift up his hand, but the sticky iron smell made him scrunch his nose.

Again, he spoke without his will.

"Isn't this despair delicious?"

What the fuck?