Pierce my heart ♡||♧ 𝕬𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉

The evening storm and the death of a deer

It all started quite slowly. Banda intended to savor every single one of the 60 minutes available to him. The blade of the razor came increasingly close to the Jack of Hearts, a grin on Bandas' face as if it could only come from a killer. A certain vigor flashed through his fingertips, an anticipation of what was about to happen. In theory, of course, Yaba and Banda just wanted to find out information about the current world. Banda was also interested in knowing more about this place. But just the thought of the diabolical torture he could now inflict on his victim sent him into a state of ecstasy. And when he positioned the blade and slowly pressed it into the skin of Enji's face, it felt like a present from God. No one would stop him. No police. No law.

More and more slashes, one deeper than the other filled Enji's face. Screaming and quivering, he answered Yaba's questions. The fear that coursed through his body was like that of a shot deer. Weakly he was lying there, shakily breathing. Hoping for life, but also the firm knowledge that it was already over with him. Now also soon his eyes would be devoid of soul. His body cold and clotted with his blood. Stiff and without any energy. Soon he was only history. Probably even no longer existing in the minds of anybody. Why would anyone want to remember him? Enji now no longer felt the metallic touch on his skin as another cut robbed him of his blood. Oh dear God free me from my fate, Enji, who otherwise dared not believe in a supreme being, began to pray and hope within himself. Hoping that he would be saved, that he would find someone, and that this was not the end. Pain and humiliation were not the ideals under which he wanted to perish. Thus it came to that, that he did not dare to say his sign after the expiration of the 60 minutes. This was a self-determined death, he told himself. And a few seconds later he was gone. Just another hollow body of many. In the end, we are all the same, Enji also had to realize that.

When the airship descended from the sky, red glints and black clouds of smoke, it was as if a void had settled over the prison that was difficult to articulate. Three survivors. Was this a success? Could one have reckoned with fewer victims? What was the point of even thinking about it now? Few picture cards were remaining now. Well to find, nevertheless, in the so clear sky of Tokyo.

Banda decided to wander off on his own. At first, he pondered staying with Yaba. To accompany him. But was Yaba even remotely interested in such a thing? A possibly exciting relationship would have been unveiled to him, but would it be worth his time? At that moment, the answer for Banda seemed to be no, so he made his way into the city by himself. He did not care much about his visa for the time being. The few remaining games would probably be played out over the next several days. So it was not in Banda's interest to slave away. What he wanted to do now, however, was also undecided. Enjoy his freedom? But what was freedom, if tedium was wrapped around him like a dark veil? The mind befogged. Wasn't this also one of the reasons why Banda had started to kill? The boredom had become so oppressive, so terrible for him that his mind seemed to take pleasure in the torment of others. But this was a natural reaction, wasn't it? Boredom was painful for everybody and everybody wants to circumvent pain.

Killing is in the nature of man.

Banda's plan was to find a place to stay for the next few days. After a number of hours, he decided on a hotel, quite centrally located. It appeared to him still somewhat suspect why others did not also spend their time in a hotel. Beds and a wind-protected place, besides relatively secure.

After the choice of his sleeping place Banda now took care of new clothing. This was urgently necessary, in the light blue blouse and beige trousers he looked too much like a prison inmate. This was true, but Banda didn't think that his clothes should show his true identity.

And so Banda sat alone in the dark hotel that evening. Now he wore his white shirt, to replace it with other garments seemed pointless to him. Next to him, however, was now a brown leather jacket instead of a blue shirt. His trousers were also replaced by black corduroy pants. Simple but probably well-durable clothes had fallen to the selection, thus Banda was now satisfied. Except for the boredom boiling up in him, which almost put him in a state of infinite rage. But still, he refrained from another act that day. To numb the anger with sleep was what he was now trying to do.

The next few days were similar. A little eating, sleeping, and strolling around in the area. To his surprise, he met no people. They didn't seem to intentionally avoid him, but no one seemed to be in this area nonetheless. Banda was still bored, inattentive even. He often sat at the window of his room and stared at the airships, rejoicing for a few seconds when one burst into flames.

He still had little interest in the other games. The reason was not a lack of curiosity, but a strange feeling in his chest. At first, he suspected an illness. Possibly a cold? But he was not a sensitive individual. Normally, he was not troubled by matters such as this. But it was different now. This feeling inside him was tugging at all his strength. It was dull and monotonous and it remained no matter how much he rested, ate, drank, or slept. Something seemed to be missing in him all of a sudden. Banda did not understand. Feelings were often a mystery to him anyway, but now it felt like a puzzle in which several pieces had been stolen from him. Or as if he had been placed in a labyrinth where there was no exit.

Most of the time Banda just tried to disregard this feeling, but it became more prominent and made him jittery. His fingers were prickling with tension because he seemed so disoriented. It was on the evening of the fourth day when he seemed to lose his mind. As he kicked the furniture around in the lobby of the hotel, screaming and pulling his hair in an attempt to drive this uneasy feeling out of his body.

He failed to do so.

A storm, as violent as it seemed to be only in summer, was brewing and it was as if he and Banda were in harmony with one another. Just as the rain began to pour in great drops on the ground and against the buildings, Banda lashed out at every object within his reach.

Like the loud thunder, Banda screamed his head off as he staggered out of the hotel. The blue-tinged hair, soaked as quickly as his clothes.

The freedom to express his rage was new to him. Until now, he managed to do so at best through murder or similar games. But in this world, he could be raving without anyone seeming to care. So he believed at least it would be.

A few streets he had already passed, wind whistling between the skyscrapers, rain whipping in his face. Gradually his strength waned and he walked only quietly, kicking one of the anyway functionless vehicles every few meters when he felt something odd. No, not the feeling that had been troubling him all this time. It was as if someone was staring at him, observing him. Banda's senses were logically limited by the rain, but his observer also made no effort to conceal his existence.

Roofed over, at the entrance to a building, he was standing with that unnerving, bemused smirk and the fancy suit. He had been following Banda? Or had his screams lured him in?

Oddly enough, Banda could only grin as he strode toward the other man.

"Pleased to see you again Banda."

"The pleasure is mutual, Yaba Oki."