Indelible (EN)

Chapter 19

Anyone who fights monsters should be careful not to become a monster himself. And as for the man who scans the bottom of the abyss, the abyss scans him back.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

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POV IAN

An icy chill runs down my spine as the words Aaron sang seven years earlier on his sensational debut echo in my head. The nursery rhyme, once associated with innocent play, now took on a sinister hue, a macabre warning of the evil intent that animated this man, for yes, this song was not his. It was the symbol of the gang that raised me, The Obsidian Circle. Aaron was proclaiming war on us, literally throwing himself into the lion's den, alone, even appropriating our anthem.

- 1.2.3. Walk straight, make the right choice. In the woods, I see you...

I remember the terror I felt when he waltzed in on several of our men, shattering the peace and quiet of our refuge in the absence of our leader. His face was contorted with rage, his eyes red with murderous madness. His body was shaking frantically, adrenalin flowing like water.

Our men threw themselves at him in ever-increasing numbers, without succeeding in bringing him down, and he stalked us relentlessly across this great space, like a hungry wolf pursuing its prey, his heavy footsteps echoing on the ground like a death knell.

- 4.5.6. Your beautiful, slippery cherry blood, what a delight...

Hiding helplessly behind a tree, I watched the tug-of-war from afar, my heart beating wildly. The air was electric, charged with palpable tension. Each blow struck, each parry executed, seemed to seal the fate of one, but not the other. His blows were swift, his gestures unpredictable.

According to the boss, I was an incompetent, a fool. I wasn't as gifted as the others in the fighting arts, to tell the truth, I'd just become a chore stooge and file archivist, so to throw myself at him would be to sign my death warrant, but so would standing by and doing nothing.

I took a step forward before running in his direction. Blood was everywhere on the gray cobblestones, the walls, the leaves of the trees, now tinged with the deep color of his eyes.

Aaron was gradually approaching the front door, ready to destroy us all, even going so far as to stalk us through the great manor. He couldn't have been from any other gang; there's a rule against bloodshed in shelters. For hundreds of years, absolutely no one crazy enough has dared to cross that line.

- 7.8.9. Cut your throat like an ox. A knife against your face...

If he wasn't our enemy, he could have been our leader, that's what I told myself when I saw him come to challenge a gang single-handedly. He was imposing, much more than anyone else here, in a way, he had my respect.

This guy was definitely a nutcase, happily shearing off anyone who challenged him, continuing to sing the rhyme.

- 10.11.12. Headline news! I know you're jealous of me...

Ready to throw myself at his back, only two meters away, I clenched my fists when I saw his face turn to face me and I thought my last hour had come. Aaron's brute strength contrasted cruelly with my fragility, and I saw no way out of this unequal confrontation. I froze, inert, not knowing what to do, but just as he was about to deliver a single, surely fatal blow, a silhouette emerged from the shadows, defying the imminent threat. Naïn.

Finally, after an eternity of fighting between the two of them that seemed to last a lifetime, Aaron triumphed against us all. Naïn, defeated and broken, collapsed to the ground, leaving behind only a deafening silence. My breath was short, seized with anguish at the sight of my friend, my comrade, the son of the chief, our greatest asset, bathing in a pool of blood.