His Choice

Curses rang through the otherwise silent streets as he stalked forward, anger in each step. The taunts of his past tempting him to take the very thing that condemned him; his mind. He shook his head, closing his eyes, as he let his surroundings distract him from his thoughts. He focused on the dark, never-ending abyss above that made him reminisce his days in another time. He remembered his life in the past; his life as a soldier. Days filled with constant death and horror. His life as a philosopher where his days were spent pondering the meaning of life and death and where he fit into it all. His life as someone else. Before the curse. Before the endless cycle corrupted with torment and no escape. With one chance at an end to it all.

Love; he scoffed at the thought curling his lips into a sneer. He couldn't think of such a dastardly thing without being encased in wrath. He needed more than to be the man he was in the past. He knew if he didn't change he would lose his internal battle to insanity and turn into one of the things he hated the most. That was the irony of it all; becoming the thing you hate most. The worst part was he truly has accepted who he had become and what it meant. He now was cursed to find this menacing image of the person he's to call "the one". He could probably see the humor in it if it didn't ignite his soul in a corrupting rage and cause him to want to go on a killing spree. To his dissatisfaction, he had to keep up the pretense of normality. He always corrupted his mind with dreams of something ethereal. Something beautiful and deadly. Someone tempting and maddening. Fate, his mind called coldly cackling.

Sirens surrounded him and he growled the noise insulting his mind and adding fire to the everlasting flames of anger. He moved away from his thoughts as he heard a rustling in a dark cold dreary alleyway. He watched waiting for the flicker of movement to cross his vision. He saw three men slamming a young boy into a wall a bat in there grasp. He sighed watching the interaction waiting to see what the boy would do and focusing his ears to hear the conversation.

"You think you can steal from us and not be caught?" A man screamed his chubby face turning red with anger. The velvet suit he wore looking odd in contrast to his appearance. The boy before him scoffed swishing his cheeks and spitting on the man's very pristine apparel. His anger lessened dulling the flames and splashing them with amusement.

"Why, you little bastard." He screamed holding out his hand to the man with the bat. The boy kicked striking the man in the face and fighting to get out of the thugs hold.

"I'll teach you some manners you brat." The man said grabbing the bat out of the other man's hand getting ready to swing.

"Boss, maybe we shouldn't, he's just a kid." The man on the left said losing his grip on the boy slightly.

"Would you like to replace him?" The fat man questioned holding the bat to the man's throat.

"N-no, sir." The man said his voice quivering. He scoffed anger fueling his veins as he saw the sight of the cowering much bigger man. He stalked forward the years of defending others circling his mind and offering the very things that he was cursed to forget.

"Drop the child." He said voice thick and hollow from the lack of use. The men turned to release their grasp in surprise. As soon as they let go the boy turned kicking the man in the shin and running. Watching the child brought him once again a feeling of slight amusement. Seeing as the boy was dropped and had vanished he turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" The velvet suited fat man questioned running at him with the bat.

"The same place you're going; hell." He said as he kept walking not even bothering to look back at the furious man in suede.

"Sir; you shouldn't go near him." The two men said pulling the plump man away.
"Why not, you cowards?" He questioned struggling against his men.