Death has always been my neighbor, but I didn't expect her to come for the rent so early.
Alexander Fable looked at his blood slowly spreading on the asphalt. The irony of fate is to die in the same dirty alley where he once stole his wallet for the first time. Thirty years of life, full of struggle, deception and survival, ended under the heavy boots of collectors.
He wasn't always like that. Once upon a time, as a child, I dreamed of a normal life. But life quickly taught: for people like him, dreams are a luxury. The people around turned out to be predators, and the choice was simple: to become one of them or to become prey.
"Humanity is just an error of evolution," Alexander often thought, looking for another victim for theft in the crowd. "Without people, the world would be cleaner."
Every day turned into an endless struggle. Nights, fights for leftover food, constant sense of danger. Once he saw a suit in the window of an expensive boutique and imagined himself in it for a moment. This thought made him smile bitterly. In a world where some are born with golden spoons in their mouths, and others in ditches, justice does not exist.
When the collectors finally found him, he even felt a strange relief. The end of the run. The first blow knocked the air out of it, the second - consciousness. The last thing he heard was:
- The boss told this piece of shit never to owe anyone again.
***
The darkness receded unexpectedly. Alexander blinked, feeling a strange lightness. There was no pain. There was a space around that could not be called a room - rather, a place between places. The reality here seemed to be shaky, like a reflection in the disturbed water.
- Well, you're dead, Alexander.
The voice sounded from everywhere and out of nowhere at the same time. Fable turned around and froze.
In front of him stood a figure, the appearance of which was constantly changing. A second ago it was a tall skinny man with Asian facial features, then a dark-skinned woman with snow-white hair, then an androgynous creature with eyes that changed color like a kaleidoscope. The only thing that remained unchanged was a pattern of black veins, shining through the skin like a dark river under thin ice.
- Who the fuck are you? - Alexander exhaled, instinctively retreating.
The creature smiled, exposing its teeth that looked like obsidian fragments.
- I have a lot of names. Lucifer, Satan, Mephistopheles... - the creature casually waved his hand, on which either gloves or scales flashed. - But it's all marketing. The point is not in the name, but in the function, right?
Alexander realized that he was talking to the Devil himself. It's strange, but there was no fear. Perhaps because after the life he lived, hell didn't seem like something particularly scary.
- Am I dead?
- Like a log, - nodded the Devil, now taking the form of an old man with ash hair and eyes the color of molten gold. - Four ribs pierced the lungs, the liver is torn, traumatic brain injury... An impressive list for amateur work.
- And now what? A cauldron with boiling resin? - Alexander hummed, looking back. - Or is this hell? Emptiness?
The devil laughed, and this sound resembled the crackling of ice on the frozen river.
- Oh, if only everything were so primitive. No, Alexander. I have an offer that you won't want to refuse.
The devil began to slowly circle around him. Now he looked like an androgynous middle-aged creature with perfect facial features and ivory skin.
- You see, people... they amuse and annoy me at the same time. So fragile, but so cruel. They came up with so many ways to hurt each other, - the Devil stopped, his eyes sparkled with silver. - You know it better than many, don't you?
- A man is a wolf to man, - Alexander muttered. - Banal, but truthful.
- Exactly! - The devil snapped his fingers, and sparks appeared in the air. - You create monsters in your imagination, make movies about them, and then you're afraid. But real monsters walk among you, smile, shake hands and sign papers condemning others to death.
He paused.
- You hate people, Alexander. I see it. All your life you've been watching some feating while others are dying of hunger. How surprisingly indifferent they can be to someone else's pain.
Alexander felt a familiar bitterness rising inside. He remembered all the nights spent in the cold, all the eyes of passers-by turning away from their outstretched hand.
- What are you up to?
The devil smiled, exauring his teeth as sharp as needles.
- I offer you a game. You will be my eyes, hands and feet in worlds created by human imagination. In the worlds of horror movies, to be more precise.
Alexander frowned:
- What the fuck are you talking about?
- I'll send you to horror movies, - the Devil patiently explained. - You'll hunt monsters and maniacs, save the main characters. For each successful mission you will get a new ability. If you fail, you will go to the penalty area, where you will become a prey yourself.
- And why do you need it? - Alexander asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
The devil has changed again, now taking the form of a middle-aged man in a gray hoodie, with skin covered with small scars forming strange patterns.
- Let's say... I'm bored. Maybe I have other reasons, but it doesn't matter," he leaned closer. "It's important that you get a chance. A chance for something you never had in your life: strength, purpose, significance.
Alexander thought about it. What does he have? What should he lose? It's okay too.
- Yes, fuck it. I agree.
The devil brightened up and clapped his hands.
- Excellent! Then let's start creating your new vessel.
He waved his hand, and a mirror appeared in front of Alexander. In the reflection, he saw himself, but... another. Shortly trimmed black hair, angular face with expressive cheekbones, round glasses hiding tired eyes. A dark coat with a high collar, giving a strict and alienated look.
- Is it... me?
- Your new shell, - the Devil nodded. - Do you like it? I added a little... style.
He approached Alexander and suddenly pressed his palm to his chest. The pain was instantaneous and burning. When the Devil removed his hand, a black symbol remained on Alexander's skin, similar to a seal with ancient runes.
- Satan's stigma, - the Devil explained. - No one can take possession of your soul except me. This is... insurance.
- It's so fucking, - Alexander hissed, rubbing his chest.
- Oh, it's nothing compared to what's waiting for you ahead, - The Devil winked. - So, the rules are simple: you get into a movie, kill a monster, save the main character, get an ability. If you fal the task, you will go to the penalty area.
- And what are the abilities?
- You'll find out when you deserve it, - the Devil smiled. - They'll be random. Sometimes useful, sometimes... not so much. But with each successful mission, they will become stronger.
The devil took a step back and theatrically spread his hands.
- It's time to start. I'll be watching, Alexander Fable. Don't disappoint me.
The reality around began to be distorted, the world swirled like water going down the drain. The last thing Alexander heard was:
- And yes, never forget the main rule: you can die even there. And then... the game is over.
Everything was plunged into darkness. The hunt has begun.