Eternal Berg, BSTF, Decembre 18th, 2009
"Welcome back to Terrut, mister Max."
A young boy smiled at Max. The city remained deserted, but this fact was not what was bothering Max at this point. Why he was here, and who the child was, were at the forefront of his mind.
"You seem familiar..."
Max lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. It was very rare for him to smoke, but he always felt it helped his memory. It took him back. He had been a heavy smoker, back in the old days. Before the betrayal.
Now he only smoke to forget that those days had passed.
"Of course I do." The boy smiled and pulled out a teddy bear that he had been concealing behind his back.
"Oh no." Max dropped his cigarette and turned to run. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."
He leapt forward as the bear exploded, tearing a hole in a small cafe. Max scrambled in the dust and the smoke to face the source of the blast. The boy still stood there, but the sight was horrific. He was clearly devestated by the attack. Limbs, chunks of flesh, part of his skull... The blast had left little remaining on the boy beyond what he needed to stand... And to stare at Max. The eyes felt penetrating, and for one of the few times in his life, Max felt ashamed.
"It wasn't meant for you... It was meant for... It wasn't meant to kill you..." He buried his head in his hands, before turning away. "None of this is real... I've got to maintain control..."
Hari awoke to find himself back in Richtog Vale, clutching his head and swaying back and forth, trying to ignore the voices and the visions plaguing him.
He was, for the most part, unsuccessful.
“Stop running.” A voice called out to Max, but he didn't stop. He wasn't running away, he was running towards. Towards the only place that could help him.
“You're not real!” He screamed back, shouting at the child. It was shambling towards him, slowly, and he found himself dreading the next change. The obvious one. “You died, and it's sad, but I never knew your name so why should I care?”
Max came to a stop in front of Professor Willow's lab. He ran inside and bolted the door, before moving his gaze to the ceiling. “Damn.”
The boy was no longer alone. Other faces from his past, each horribly mutilated the way that he had imagined they would be, were clamouring over the building. Taunting him.
“Then I guess this is it.” He moved his gaze back down to the floor. In the middle lay a descending staircase, the walls of which he could see were flecked with blood. The staircase itself was rickety and metallic. “The descent into hell.”