𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀™ || 𝘣𝘮𝘵𝘩

Chapter 6: And I know this doesn't make a lot of sense.

Protestations, riots, scandals.

That was Oliver's new daily routine.
Mantra had grown bigger, and he was probably one of the most powerful men in the world by now, but it was becoming impossible to control it. It was getting out of hands.

The leader was watching all of the screens he had in his rest room, each showing a different and more scandalous report about his cult or himself.

Sometimes, he'd even hear so-called "psychiatrists" on the radio explaining people how much of a dangerous behavior he had, and that he was probably some kind of sociopath.

Bullshits, in his opinion.
Real, in fact.

Time flew and he had his dose of unexpected surprises everyday.

« CULT SPARKS OUTRAGE! »

He could read on one of the screen,

« AUTHORITIES PRESSURED TO INTERVENE! »

was saying the other.
On the one just above, he had even seen a picture of himself.

Mantra was in every mind, on every tongue.
It was raising fear and intrigue among the worldwide population and had spread madness among his followers. Most of them probably thought Oli was either crazy, genius, or lucky.

In fact, he was none of these.
Deep down inside, he was still the lonely beggar.
He was still the goalless, sweaty man sitting on his chair and watching his screen everyday.
And he could dress with gold and silver, control the entire earth or be the richest person alive, it would never change who he really is inside.

Instead, it was just worst now.
He had caused catastrophiez, messed with people's lives, and brought chaos. He exploited people like animals, but the real and only animal, in the end, was no one but him.

He became twice as lonely.
He was worshipped by millions, but at the end of the day, he still had no one to talk to, no one to love and no one to love him. He was wary and cold to everyone.

And, oh, how desperate he was.
Getting a bit more tired everyday, feeling the world's weight getting harder to hold up.
With no one to help him. He couldn't do this on his own. Not anymore.

And his dear Victoria, his only friend. She had been here for him from the beginning.
But even she couldn't help him anymore. She took care of him everyday since they first met, and yet, it wasn't enough. Oliver felt selfish for this.
He felt useless.

So many things haunted his mind as he took a look at all the images quickly, his lifeless eyes traveling from one screen to another.

« When did it start to go wrong? »
He thought as he let out a deep sigh.
It was enough.

He couldn't turn back now. But he could leave.
Not to another place or country, no.
He'd be recognized.
He had to leave. Forever.

On a small table made of glass in front of him, he saw his agenda, which was probably full for the next 10 years, along with the pills he used to take to sleep.

Indeed, no matter how tired he was, he couldn't close his eyes; surely the result of all the stress and wariness always awakened in his chest.

« I want to sleep. I just want to sleep. And never wake up. » he whispered to himself as he took the pills in his shaky hand.

He swallowed one, and two, then three, and so on.

Quickly, he felt as if time had slowed down around him, as if everything was as calm and lifeless as in one of those gloomy cemeteries full of fog.

He saw the screens' images spinning around him, each color being a blinding light to him now.

His heartbeat became slow, and then he knew;
His death wish would be granted.

With the little strength he had left, he got up, still holding the pills in a hand. He wanted to grab the TV remote to turn all of these awful screens off. He wanted to have, at least, some seconds of peace left before he closed his eyes forever.
But as he was about to, he fell to the ground, and his chest stopped rising as his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

Before he let out his last breath, a thought came across his mind:

« The truth set me free. »