Chapter 1: Arrival

Blur and Fast forward together. Under the same time and premise. He still wasn't dried up fully, but he wore the rags like he was on auto-pilot. It felt so surreal, them being in another world. It wasn't a prank by some TV station, they really were in a different world. At least that's what he heard from the people talking, sobbing and some others were just mumbling. Probably lost it.

Sylvan looked at his hand and then balled it into a fist, clenching tightly before slowly loosening it up and making his hand open slowly. It was real, he wasn't dreaming. He was supposed to be dead but here he is. Alive, in one piece.

If there ever was a God, He was playing with him--them. They could've died then and there in that plane crash instantaneously but now they're here. Sold off as cattle and even paraded naked around the town they were in earlier, like some kind of livestock. Someone was just killed earlier and the other one sold. It was downright humiliating and vexing. Which was an understatement to say at the least. Now they're like cattle, just waiting for the time to be slaughtered, painfully. Will he be eaten? bitten or torn to pieces as he screamed?

Sylvan's jaw's clenched, his teeth grit. He was angry, frustrated at his powerlessness. He wanted to fight the cats, but how? Even if he did get people to join him, can he bear in his consciousness their possible deaths? The Cats outnumber them and their bodies are much more stronger. They'll die in vain.

So do I just give up then? Roll over for them and just wait for the time I die?

Lost in thought they were then gathered and then separated, the others dragged away into a different room. He and some others tried to resist but they were prodded with weapons, limiting their ability to move or fight back. He listened to Meera's announcement about them being asked to murder each other. Sylvan raised an eyebrow regarding her testament, unbelieving of her words. Until he saw it for himself. Death.

They were both killed. One was beheaded, the other stabbed in the face. It looked so gross. that Sylvan took a step back and his back lurched coughed, He pushed away the crowd and threw up on a corner.

"Fuck…Fuck..Fuck…This is real."

His back heaved and his mouth kept open as he took deep breaths as he tried to calm himself. His hands shook uncontrollably while it was hard pressed on his knees as he used it for balance.

"It could've been me…If I wasn't into snow boarding…I could've been…"

Dead.

Sylvan straightened up his back as he stood up and stared upwards. There was no escape, no light in this dark place. His eyes simply stared upwards gone. Unaware that William had stabbed a woman mercilessly. He took breaths, long ones and then short ones. He was then grabbed by the arm and forced back into the crowd, Sylvan would stumble around people and then saw Yui slowly walking up to Eishi to kill him.


And he heard words, words he thought he'd never hear from a child to a murderer.

"Don't be afraid" the child said.

Sylvan's eyes widened in horror as he tried to reach out to the child though far. The Image and words of that moment would never leave him, It would haunt him forever. His hand reaching out, unable to reach, to do something.

"Don't do it!" He shouted vehemently, but alas his words fell into deaf ears as it drowned out along the shouting of the people and their defiant cries.

Blood spurted out the child's chest. And there was this sense of dread like a bucket of cold water was splashed unto him and it was heavy.

He would fade out of his mind for a minute. Barely understanding, the words the imagery, of what was happening. He was only snapped out of his trance when he heard the word "He's alive".

Sylvan looked onward and found the child alive, his mouth agape, worry and a sense of relief came over him…only for a moment however as he would be dragged out next, given the same knife that has been used to kill people, and then forced to kill the person in front of him.

He shook with fear, uncertainty, anger and anxiety for a few seconds. Thinking of all the consequences, what he needs to do to survive and the means how to, it drove him mad, desperate and confused. He raised his hand high and then-

"AAAHHHHHH!!!!" He then would shout out of nowhere and throw the knife towards the middle of the floor, between him and the dehydrated man.

"I can't do it.." he whispered angrily. "I can't do it like this..."

"If I'm gonna kill you…then It must be in self defense. I can't kill you unarmed like this…" Sylvan stood straight, defiant even though he was unsure with the words he was saying or with the actions he was taking right now.

He wasn't sure where it would take him, but at least he knew he would stick with that decision, but he had to--in this crazy world where nothing seems to make sense, or that they have no say in.

"If I die by your hand then it's okay…because it was all left to chance." Sylvan clenched his fist tightly as he looked at the small knight on the cold pavement. "However, if you die, then it was by self-defense. I did it to survive, I gave both of us a choice.."

How many times has it been since that tale has been retold again and again ever since time immemorial?

The Two men fight, and of course only one comes out alive.


As If the woman-cat's words were like the sound of a gong to signify the start of this bloody affair, the earlier dehydrated man who couldn't even stand up straight charged straight at him like a ravenous beast, without a second thought. Sylvan saw first-hand the effect of desperation, the want to live that does not pay attention to anything else but to preserve oneself.

The Knife came towards him, Sylvan grit his teeth and stepped back, the knife gashing his arm as he tried to block it. He felt the knife cut like warm steel being pressed unto him. The man cut lucky and grazed the side of his cheek, just below his eyes, A little more and he could've been blind. Sylvan's breathing and thought processes went into overdrive, he was lucky he was able to dodge.

Sure he asked for this. But he didn't think it will be this gritty, painful and damning. While he felt his arm burn. He remembered something. A long repressed memory of his.

He remembered the view from below as his father was above him dominantly struggling him and his vision fading, and no matter how he reached out. His father wouldn't stop--no matter how hard he screamed no one came to help. He was afraid, vulnerable and confused.

Even now, no one's going to help you...

Then he was in a different place, full of greenery, somewhere in the mountains, and all around him were gravestones. He was in the graveyard where his grandmother was laid to rest.

He was playing around as a child and moving his arms around as if to punch. His father called him and then said.

"If you're going to punch someone, it shouldn't be so wide. Or they'll see it coming" He said sternly. "A man must punch like this-"

Sylvan returned to where he was now, and he could feel the pain in full. He gnashed his teeth as it was the first time he felt pain like this. Getting Cut and stabbed wasn't a good way to go, nor was it pleasant even if it grazed him.

The other man was winding for another go, thinking that he can kill Sylvan.

Of all the God damned things to remember right now...

With his instincts taking a hold of him. Sylvan dashed forward clenching his right fist and then aimed to punch the man at the throat. He kept his eyes focused on it, aiming at it never taking his eyes and thoughts on how to go about it.

He put all his weight on to his waist and foot pivoting, he threw out all his strength on the punches he threw out against the man. He wasn't going to die. Not Today. He gave the man a means to defend himself, it was fair game. He was fighting for survival, he wasn't murdering him in cold blood.

Yes. Self-defense.