A little boy and his brother walked inside of a bookstore.
They walked around, and found a comic book that they quite liked.
"Ooh, Adventure man!"
They sat next to each other, and flipped through the pages, seeing their favorite heroes transferred into a fantasy world where they fought dragons, and other cool monsters.
"Hey, Thomas, when we grow up, what if we became superheroes?"
"That would be awesome! We'll be like Bart, since he doesn't have superpowers."
"Hm. How can we get superpowers?"
Thomas pulled out a notepad, and looked around for a pencil, finding one.
He began to write "How to get superpowers!" on top of the piece of paper, circling it.
The boys brainstormed how to get superpowers, and decided to try them out.
They put the book back on the shelf, and ran out to the forest.
"Okay, spider bite, here we go!"
Thomas ran over to a tree, and saw a spider.
"A-auw..."
His hand shook in fear, but he carried on, because the best heroes knew how to overcome their fear.
He let the spider crawl onto his hand, and it began to shake so rapidly that the spider bit him.
"Yowch!"
He shook his hand quickly, and the spider got off.
Thomas began to sprint away, with David chasing after him.
"Hey, are you alright?!"
"Y-yeah..."
Thomas' voice broke as he did that, due to his fear and head hurting from crying.
Thomas walked over to a wall, and leaned on it, falling.
"I-I think I'm dying... wah!"
In truth, the spider that had bitten him wasn't venomous, it was just that Thomas believed it to be so, that the slightest feeling in his head counted as a throbbing headache, and his muscles being tired from running were signs of paralysis, and soon to be death.
Him being out of breath from running?
Clearly a sign of his body not being able to breathe.
Thomas sobbed, rubbing his eyes as tears flowed down his face.
"Hey, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you hurt... wah!"
The two brothers began to cry, and hugged each other.
"Hey... don't worry, Thomas, I'm here! I'll help you, I don't know how, but I will... I will absolutely protect you!"
David began to rub the back of Thomas' head in order to calm him down.
David used that "technique" a lot, since Thomas was sort of a crybaby, so he would frequently need to be calmed down.
Thomas found his brother rubbing the back of his head soothing, and he calmed down.
"Thank you... David..."
"You're welcome. After all, if I can't even console my big brother, how can I save people? I have to learn stuff like this to fulfill my dream!"
"Y-your dream?"
"I want to be the greatest hero."
They continued to sit there until their mother finally found them, scolding them for running off by themselves.
...
"Hey, David. Are you feeling better?"
"N-no, I don't think so."
Thomas sat on a stool next to his brother, who was on a bed in the hospital.
"D-does it hurt?"
"Yeah, pretty bad. The pain meds aren't exactly working too great anymore."
Thomas looked at his brother with sorrow.
The rest of his family gave him the same look, and their mother even began to cry.
Thomas hugged his mother to console her.
David had become sick with a disease known for how painful it gets the longer you have it.
As it stood, there was no cure, with the only treatments being very expensive.
The most that they could afford was simply keeping him there, and that was getting to the family financially.
"Hey mom... dad... Can I talk to David? Alone, please?"
"H-huh? S-sure, of course... sweetie."
Their mom and dad left the room, leaving the two brothers to talk.
"So... what did you wanna talk about?"
"Um, I know this is selfish, but... please rub my head like you used to! I know it's selfish, and it might even hurt you, but I just don't know how to feel anymore, with the bills, and your sickness, and-"
"H-hey, it's alright. It's alright..."
David slowly raised his hand into the air, and Thomas leaned forward.
Having his head rubbed calmed him down, and tears fell from his eyes.
"Th-thank you...!"
David smiled slightly, and despite being in pain, he found it enjoyable to help others.
"Now, um... how badly does it hurt?"
"Pretty damn bad, man, but... I'm trying to smile, even though I hear this is only the beginning."
Thomas called the family back in, and they talked with David for the rest of the day.
"Thomas, dear, please come with us."
"N-no... I just want to stay next to David for a bit longer."
Their mother was sad, but decided to respect his decision.
The rest of the family left the hospital, and the only people in the room were David and Thomas.
By this point, David was asleep, because the pain was excruciating, and sleep was the only way to stop it for even a little bit.
The disease was incurable, and it was just the beginning of the pain that would await David.
Without a doubt, the rest of David's life was going to be hell.
Thomas looked at David's sleeping body, and the pillow behind his head.
"Damn it..."
Thomas clenched hand, furious at himself for even having the thought of doing such a thing.
And yet, he couldn't take his mind off of it.
For that brief moment, it felt like the only way out.
Thomas began to cry, and his breathing grew heavy.
"Damn it! Why, why am I like this?! Fuck!"
In his mind, he was the lowest of the low, thinking about killing his own brother.
Eventually, the thoughts got painful to the point that he began to rub his own head, in an attempt to calm himself down.
Thomas sobbed into his own hand, and sniffled.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Thomas got out of his seat, and stood up, looking down at his brother.
"I'm sorry!"
Thomas gently pulled the pillow out from his brother's head, and held it above David's head for a moment.
If he just did it, then his brother would be spared a lifetime of absolute misery.
Thinking those thoughts, Thomas made up his mind.
He pushed the pillow onto David's face, and since David was sick, and unconscious, he couldn't move around to even try and stop him.
Pressing even harder, Thomas continued for a few minutes, and after the 10 minute mark, he let go of the pillow, checking to see if his brother's heart was still beating.
Feeling nothing, he sank back onto the stool.
His head was drenched with sweat, and his heart was racing.
For a brief few moments, the world was merciful, so incredibly merciful, as to not fill Thomas' head with guilt.
However, whether he liked it or not, that mercy would run out.
Thomas's eyes widened with guilt, as he sobbed into his hands.
What he did could not be undone.
Or so he thought.
"Hm, my my, that's a lot of guilt, eh? Oh how I love the smell."
Thomas turned around, and saw the goddess of death.
"W-wha?"
"Hmph. Yes, undeniably, this is quite the sight, isn't it? Tell me, why did you kill him?"
"W-who are you?"
"That doesn't matter right now. Come on, tell me, why did you kill him?"
Thomas looked down, as if to show he was ashamed, and answered.
"B-because he was hurting, and there wasn't a way to make it stop..."
"Hm. How odd the mind can be when it has to justify its actions."
Thomas turned his head towards the goddess of death, and tilted it with a "huh?"
"That's a lie, and you know it. The real reason you killed him was because the hospital bills were getting pricey, isn't it?"
"N-no! That's wrong, that wasn't why!"
In the back of Thomas' mind, the money was still an issue.
Even if he committed the act with good intentions, the idea that those good intentions were only a shield to cover up the real reason he killed his brother haunted him.
The goddess of death snickered, and summoned a dark chair, resting her face on her fist, with her legs crossed.
"Tell me, do you regret killing him?"
"Y-yes, of course! Wait, I don't... I don't know..."
Death giggled, and oddly enough, looked energized, as though consuming the misery of Thomas.
"Here, I'll tell you what. I'll be merciful, and give you a second chance."
Thomas looked up at Death, and wiped his tears away.
"Y-you will?"
"Yes. I shall give you two the dream life you always wanted to live, being sent to another world, and your brother will be revived, without his memories."
"Yes... Of course..."
Death smiled upon Thomas, and grabbed his wrist, giving him the Mark of Death.
A scythe on his left wrist.
"Now, I'll give your brother the same mark, but for a different reason. For you, that mark will show itself when you are pushed far enough, and you will gain Dominion of Death, allowing you to kill practically anyone. As for him, it is a mark that he wields because he had died, and come back."
"Okay, anything to bring him back!"
The mark was now on both of the brothers, and Death snapped her fingers, sending the two boys to an alternate world.