QUIET

1

The sun beamed over the open golden landscape of Kansas. It was a beautiful drowsy day, the vast blue sky stretched on without a cloud in sight. The country's land was extensive and covered in either farmland or untouched nature. One particular winding road traveled far away from any settled areas and deep into the country until it ended at a simple log home. The structure looked old, moss clung to the sides of the building and it was in desperate need of a little fixer upper. The whole foundation sunk into the ground in some areas- which was probably a testament to how long it had been around.

From the rotting outside, it looked abandoned but surprisingly that would be incorrect. In one of the upstairs rooms hunching over a pile of paperwork was a young-looking man known as Alfred F. Jones.

The scratching of his pen from signing papers was about the only sound in the lonely house. Dull blue eyes mechanically scanned each paragraph.

The stack was finally diminishing to it's last sheets as the landscape outside bathed in red from the sinking sun.

With one last scratch of the pen the lifeless figure leaned back with a sigh. He stretched out his arms and arched his back for a satisfying pop. He then pushed himself away from the desk.

Alfred made his way over to a bathroom down the hall. As he entered his eyes traced around the room and he became more aware of what he was doing. He kneeled next to his older styled tub, the kind of tub that stood on four legs and was made out of porcelain. The blond boy then cranked on the warm water which somehow found its way through the rusty pipes.

While he waited for the tub to fill up he searched through his cupboards for something. He scoured through the shelves shoving stuff aside and looking carefully. As time passed with no results his movements grew more frantic and desperate. His search was interrupted by a flicker light that caught his eye. He turned to the source, a small piece of reflective metal on the bathroom floor. The blond fell slowly reached out and grasped the small object clutching it close to his body as if to protect it.

He then turned off the water to the full tub, stripped down, and slowly stepped in still clutching the shiny metal. He sank down into the water sighing as the warmth surrounded him. It was nice... but still not good enough. He looked out the small round window of the bathroom to the sinking sun and wondered when it had come to this?

He gently clutched the small blade, closed his eyes, and carved deeply into both of his wrists. As it cut through his skin and veins almost reaching the bone he gasped sharply from the pain before slowing his breathing. Blood poured out of the deep cut in the gallons. The clear bathwater quickly changed to a crimson red. It wouldn't be long now...

Alfred's eyelids drifted closed and he sank deeper into the water. Despite the warmth that surrounded him, his body started to shiver and his teeth clattered. The edges of his vision were slowly eaten away until only darkness remained. His body jumped and lurched with last-ditch survival instinct before he released his last breath. The gentle nature sounds that surrounded him faded to silence as his senses failed. And finally, the last thing to leave him- the thing that he could never escape any other way: his mind. A true peace ensued him, an emptiness...

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As that still night stretched on, in that silent house, upstairs in the bathroom, Alfred's body lay slumped in a cold crimson pool for around 5 hours before his abnormal ability kicked in. First step was to heal the immediate injuries that caused the death, in this case new thin layers of skin began to form over the deep gashes in his arm. A thump kickstarted the second process and what blood remained in his body resumed its circulation. New blood was also being produced extraordinarily fast to replace what was lost. Once the repairs processes were complete enough, basic functions began to return including ocular, olfactory, gustatory, and cognition . Cognition or Alfred's mind returned first and he hated that part because it took a few more seconds for the rest to catch up, meaning he was stuck alone with his thoughts for that time.

Then, the stinging sensation of his raw wrists made itself present. A disgusting, metallic smell filled his nose which was accompanied by a tangy taste of same substance, and at last the blurry sight of the mess he made crept back in.

After all the basics life functions and these sensory centers had returned Alfred had to wait at least another hour for motor functions, and only minimal movement at that.

Even after Alfred would seem fully recovered, side affects would linger on. Particularly due to this method of death Alfred would feel cold for up to weeks afterwards because that's how long it would take his body to replace all the blood he lost, which regulates body temperature. His movement would be stiff for a long time and finally, despite his inhuman healing abilities, those scars would last for years after... just like all the rest.

After sitting in the cold water for a while, motion slowly returned to Alfred. At first, it was only the ability to wiggle his toes and fingers but eventually, he could lift his limbs and sit up. He got out of the tub at an agonizing pace and unplugged the drain.

One of the gross things about the aftermath of what he had done was the mess. He and his tub were covered in cold blood, literally.

Alfred gingerly rinsed and scrubbed the tub and then jumped in the shower washing himself quickly with the limited range of motion he had so he wouldn't smell like death anymore. Then he put on some simple captain America pajama pants a shirt, popped a few sleeping pills, and collapsed onto his queen-sized bed.

Alfred hated sleep. It did nothing to quiet his mind, only left him alone to deal with it in the form of dreams, more like nightmares. He still forced himself to sleep at least 20 hours a week. His body required some rest despite his immortality, but luckily it didn't require as much rest as humans because of its handy dandy OP healing powers.

Although, sometimes Alfred wondered what the extent of his abilities were. He had definitely noticed the increasing amount of time he stayed out after a death. The first time he killed himself via cutting he was only out for 30 minutes and since then the amount of time has grown. Now he stayed dead for hours. What if his body was losing its ability to heal?... what if he never came back one day?... Alfred didn't know what to think about that so he pushed it out. But Alfred should know by now, he has no control over his thoughts. So, instead, he spent the entire night mauling the idea over, even following him into his dreams.

A/N

Yo, this isn't related to the story ( so u can skip if ya want) but its kinda why I chose Kansas for this setting.
Have y'all ever heard of bleeding Kansas? As I said, it's not related to this story but here's some American history: there was a thing in Kansas during 1850s-ish called bleeding Kansas. It was basically a battle between pro and anti-slavery settlers where both sides were flooding the new state to try and influence the vote on wether kansas would be a slave owning state or not. It ended with a lot of fighting and bloodshed and both Kansas and Nebraska had the highest amount of casualties during the civil war- hence the name 'bleeding Kansas'

So I say this is kinda the reason for my chosen setting because of the name not because it relates to what actually happened btw, but I thought I'd mention this cuz I appreciate history facts.