God, I love when humans do that. It's hilarious. They all think the suffering is over afterwards. It never is. Oh, I'm not talking about the loved ones' painful loss or any of that crap, no. Once a human takes their own life, I am free to do with them whatever I choose to. And it's not in my nature to choose nice things.
Don't ask me about the workings behind the whole thing. I know little more than collective humanity, as I am a product of their minds. Not just a product, but a ruler as well. You see, dear reader, humans chose me as their leader, and they continue to choose me every single moment of their pathetic lives.
I was born when the first ape decided that there was more to life than eating and fucking (as if), and if I'm any judge, I will die only when the last human's mind stops operating. There is another way. There always is. But you won't find it.
Anyway, enough about me. Our friend will wake soon and I have a job to do.
Ah yes, there he is.
What happened?, he thinks. Great, not even suicide I can do right.
He looks at the gun in his hand, puts it down, and feels where the bullet's entry point should be. Nothing. He takes up the gun again, points it at a random spot in his room and fires. It does fire. The blast and the hole in his late wife's drawing of him are proof of that.
He points it at his temple and hesitates.
Why am I not feeling anything? I should be sad, confused, devastated. Maybe even happy that I got a second chance.
He tries to evoke his usual self-disgust. He thinks of his dead wife and his failures as a father. Thoughts that keep him awake all night and in a waking coma all day do nothing now.
How very odd.
He comes to the conclusion that there's no point in taking his life now. Not feeling anything is all he ever wanted since shit started hitting the fan. Before now, suicide was the only way to achieve that.
He decides to call his one remaining friend to tell her about what just happened. He doesn't fear her reaction. He doesn't fear her telling him what a complete and utter moron he is for trying to kill himself. He doesn't fear her insistence for him to seek help.
For the first time in his life, he doesn't fear.
The phone is dead. He tries his mobile. Dead. He plugs it in and only now realizes that all the everyday noises are gone. The fridge is silent, the pipes in the walls don't do their usual gurgling and he doesn't hear any traffic. He checks his mobile again and, as he expected, it doesn't respond.
Looking through the window, he doesn't see any people, not even their parked cars. He lets his gaze wander across the strange scene until his attention is seized by a single black dot on the horizon. He doesn't have any idea what it is, but he knows it is important, and that it's coming closer.
What the hell is going on?
Holstering his gun, he leaves his coat where it is, figuring that he won't need it, and walks outside. The dot is a bit larger now, but still too tiny to identify it.
Wait a second.
The dot is at a different direction than before. He looks again. There it is. He turns around and yep, there it is, growing larger at an infuriatingly slow rate.
At least I can't feel fury anymore.
He picks a direction at random and starts walking towards it. After some time passes he realizes that nothing has changed. The dot is coming nearer at the same rate as before. Only it isn't a dot anymore. It looks oblong now, and vaguely humanoid.
Speaking of humans, where is everyone?
The streets are empty, the houses silent. Not even birds sing, and there isn't a single movement of air. He's utterly alone.
He takes a deep breath… wait, no, he doesn't. He hasn't breathed since he woke up. His pulse is gone, too.
This must be some kind of dream.
Is this hell?
Heaven?
Nah, bro. Nothing of the sort.
The thing on the horizon is now definitely humanoid, and it's walking towards him. Amidst the blackness he now notices something very white where the head of a person would be. He waves and shouts, but he gets no reaction.
Fine, I'll wait for you then.
How nice of you.
He looks around, always seeing the figure. At the end of a street, atop a house in the distance, on a hill behind some trees. Forever walking, never moving. Forever moving, never coming closer. Forever coming closer, never stopping. It never stops. Nothing ever stops.
Why doesn't it stop? Please stop!
Gradually, it all comes back. His pulse is racing, his breathing fast and shallow. He's too hot, so he rips his clothes off. The only thing he's wearing now is the gun in his hand, aimed at the figure, which he can now clearly see, despite the tears in his eyes.
Long and thin limbs. Claws that are ever so lightly touching the ground. Hair hanging in thick strands in its face. The white features he was seeing earlier now have a clear form. Two eyes, and a grin that doesn't end. Pure whiteness in a pitch-black entity. What a magnificent creature! He's terrified.
Just a few steps more and we finally meet.
What are you?
I am the only thing that's left for you.
…
Madness.
Yes, but I prefer Wahnsinn. It has a nicer ring to it, don't you think?
I reach out and sink a finger into his chest.
The people in the street are not prepared for what comes next. A naked man suddenly appears, gun aimed straight forward. They don't react in time.
He pulls the trigger. Over and over and over and
thoughts