Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏-'๑'-

With all the overthinking I do you would think I'd make better decisions.

I sprinted through the narrow alleys, my breath ragged in the cool morning air. Chills pricked my skin as the ceaseless clash of claws against stone echoed behind me.

God, I hated mornings.

Taking yet another left turn, I glanced over my shoulder, confirming my suspicions with a single look.

Another corner.

Gone were all the people. It was expected. Those isolated areas were usually bustling late at night with drunken men or lustful couples. The reeking stench of vomit, piss, and discarded condoms was proof enough.

I cringed, exhaling sharply as I rounded another corner, arriving at a shadowed space cluttered with bins and garbage.

So I wasn't lost after all. A smirk curved my lips as I finally halted, turning to face the approaching snarls.

"You motherfuckers wasted too many minutes of my day." I muttered.

The growing pack of curses converged in the shadows, revealing their mangled, rotten teeth as they gathered, hesitatingly closing in on me. But my focus remained fixed on the alley's far end.

"I can smell you, you know," I called, pinching my nose in annoyance.

The small, dog-like curses nearly nipped at my feet, their putrid breaths stinging my eyes.

My irritation teetered dangerously close to the edge, tempting me to do something I really shouldn't—such as violently murdering these stinking nuisances. They posed no more threat to me than a bunch of Fly Heads.

But I had a plan. One that demanded precision and restraint. For the sake of the damned mission.

"Come out and play, don't be shy now," I taunted again, spotting the clumped, ragged shape entering the alley. It hadn't taken long to identify this one after our brief encounter.

Much like your average second-grade curse, it packed a punch but lacked a brain. Easily distracted and provoked, yet the little termites it spawned had been the real problem. The more I killed, the more it vomited out. Exterminating this menace in the city had been a risk I couldn't afford.

It inched closer, heaving and grunting as it clambered over its minions. Hundreds of twisted, yellow eyes glinted in the shadows, turning my gut with disgust.

Of course, out of all the wretched curses prowling about, I had to deal with this one. On a Sunday, no less.

I released a frustrated sigh, raising four fingers into the air and shutting my eyes closed. I could sense the creatures gnashing at my feet and the horrible stench violating my nostrils.

Banish.

Eyelids fluttered open as my ring finger descended. A fleeting moment of silence. Then the stout, chunky curse shattered into pieces before dissolving into tendrils of smoke, followed by a wave of imploding grime as the horde of curses turned to dust.

Then it struck me. Eyes widened in horror as my mind processed the information far too slowly.

"No," I gasped, attempting to lift a protective barrier—only to fail.

I was too late. Viscous black splashes showered over me in chunks, and I screamed in anguish.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit!" I cursed, feverishly scrubbing at my clothes as if it would make a difference.

My phone rang. I yelled at the sky while desperately trying to rid my drenched coat of slimy clots.

And it rang again.