Blending Into Gray

Chapter 1

I know this'll make me sound like an absolute loner, but being alone is really the only time I feel like I can connect with my emotions.

And no, I'm actually not a hopeless loner looking for friends.

Here's the problem: ever since I was little, I was essentially told I'd have to kill another guy. It's nuts, I know.

But the thing about my world is that titles here are passed down, just like nobility.

For example, some people would hold the title prince, or king.

For me, that title is Villain.

It's absolutely ludicrous and frankly, the worst thing I've ever heard. But since I've spent twenty years of life here, I guess I've gotten used to it.

But even so, my whole life's ridiculous.

I chuckled to myself as I walked back home, with 'home' being centered in a small suburb near the city.

The little neighborhood had charm, I must admit, even if half the time it was so clustered that I couldn't even think straight.

My hair began to whip in the wind, and I held a hair tie in my teeth as I gathered my hair back to secure it.

Honestly, I promised my father that I'd cut my hair someday.

He's still waiting on that 'someday'.

Pushing open the door to my small home, I was instantly assaulted by happiness.

"Hey, son. I made some cookies, if you want them?"

It was my dad, calling out from the kitchen. I grinned, passing the nearby staircase and walking in to say hello.

I looked so much like my dad sometimes it scared me. He had the same bright red hair and the same emerald eyes. It was absolute bullshit how much I looked like his younger clone - except for the longer hair, of course.

"Hi dad," I smiled, reaching past him to grab a cookie off the sheet that he had just placed on the kitchen counter.

"Hey, you'll burn yourself if you aren't careful," he warned, turning to face me.

He saw my hair pulled back, and sighed, his face falling into that of annoyance.

"When are you going to cut that?"

His teasing didn't affect me negatively in the least. If he actually meant to antagonize me, I'd go have it cut, but since he didn't mean anything by it I couldn't have cared any less.

A cheeky smile.

"Never," I quipped, leading him to chuckle.

"I'm glad you're happy to see me," I continued.

He smiled.

"How couldn't I be? You're my son, after all. But have you given any thought to the fight yet?"

And that, at once, brought my spirits crashing down.

There was only ever one constant in this house, only ever that fight that we had to talk about.

I looked away from my father, choosing to speak honestly.

"No. Well, I mean, I have. But I just don't get how I'm supposed to kill him. I've never met him. Besides, I don't even know what he can do!"

I hated it all so much, and I hadn't even met the guy yet. Maybe that was the point. Maybe they wanted me to hate him so that I could kill him that much easier.