⊹ ｡ ﾟ⁖✦ •𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘈𝘜⁖ °✦ ･ﾟ⋆

Chapter 10

It was the quietest, most awkward game of cards Mark had ever played. No one said a word, neither him nor the figure across from him. He noticed that its hands were strange looking...longer, bonier fingers. Unnaturally pale skin. The skin looked like a thin sheet of paper clinging onto the bones underneath it. The nails were long and almost curved...whoever this was, or whatEVER it is, is not human.
After the longest two hours of his life, the game was over, and Mark won.
"Congratulations, Mark Heathcliff." The entity's voice boomed once more.
"Now tell me. Why should I spare you?"
Mark froze and his heart sank. He had never been asked a question like this and had never thought of an answer for it.
"I...I-I-....I don't know."
The entity shook its head and tapped its fingers on the table.
"So indecisive. One of the many things I HATE about you humans."
Its face flashed back to the unnerving smile.
"It's pathetic. I'm asking you if you want to LIVE again, and you cannot provide me a clear answer."
After a brief silence.
"Why would I?" Mark cried out angrily. He had no idea why he was angry...
"Why would I want to go back to an alternate-infested world like that?"
Then he remembered!
He felt betrayed by the human race. No one came to his aid during his 72 hour encounter. Not even his own family.
"A hellhole YOU created!" His eyes stung with tears.
"Actually..." the entity slowly and calmly spoke, "I'd grant you immunity. You would be deemed 'untouchable.'"
Mark wasn't having it.
"You're lying! I'm not listening to you."
The entity's face went back to its mysterious neutral appearance.
"You dare to say such a thing to me? Do you know who I am, Mark?"
"I do. And that's why I'm not listening."
He looked away.
"I don't do deals with the devil."
"Well...if you REALLY can't tell me one simple reason why you should be spared, I have another offering."
"No!" Mark yelled.
"You have to do something."
Mark sighed.
The smile shone again.
"Kill one of your peers." The creature ordered.
Mark looked up in horror.
"WHAT? I'M-I'M NOT DOING THAT! No way! Never!"
The smile disappeared again as fast as it appeared.
"I knew you would say that." It sighed. "I guess you don't want to go back and see that dear, sweet sister of yours after all. Sarah, is it?"
"LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Mark screamed.
"Only if you make up your mind for me. What'll it be, hm? Your time is running out."
"I don't care about my time!" Mark sobbed.
"I will give you 24 hours," Mark's timer filled up with 24 hours worth of sand.
"And then you come to me with your choice."
Lucifer's hand opened up and revealed a gun. It was white quartz with gold detailing. Heavier than any other gun Mark had ever held.
"I thought nothing could kill us here." He said flatly.
"This is one of the only things that can. Specially made. There still have to be ways to cross over."
Mark stared at the gun in his hands. He felt uneasy and nauseous having ownership of one again. The same type of weapon he used to end his own life.
"One bullet is all that's needed. And the deed is done."
Mark shook his head.
"You WILL report back here to me in exactly 24 hours." Lucifer ordered.
"How will I know when the time is right?" Mark asked defeated.
"You'll find out."

Back in his suite, he sat on the side of his mattress with the gun next to him. He didn't want any of this. It disgusted him.
He thought over who could be killed.
Ruth and Thatcher would surely finish him off faster than he could.
Cesar...that was all he had of his best friend. He didn't know if the real Cesar Torres would be there on Earth when he came back to life. But why should he go back? At the cost of another life? That made his stomach turn.
Adam. Sure he was rude and impatient, but he hasn't done anything to personally get under Mark's skin. Besides, he was helping with solving the mystery of everything in this new life they shared.
Jonah. Jonah was too sweet and genuinely fun to be in the company of. Not that he would be there on earth with Mark...
He didn't feel right robbing anyone of their friends. There was a fragile ecosystem here no one cared much to think about. If he went into the kitchen...he could quickly shoot the cook and be over with this. But then the remaining group wouldn't have anyone to provide them with food and they would starve. Most of all, Mark knew he couldn't live with the guilt of knowing he killed someone, wether it was directly or indirectly. He passed out from exhaustion.