Wandering nihilism (Part 1)

It's been two years, two hellish years after that fated encounter. I've been running away for two years, alone physically yet I could feel a presence chocking me while I was walking. Forests and dead cities were beginning to feel more and more like home, people disgusted me although I wanted to do something for them.

"Thinking about mankind again are you, little one?"

"What the hell? Who are you?" - That voice! I know it! It could not be him, this boy is too young.

"Ah no one, just the owner of the forest in which you are waling. So what is a little child doing all alone in a forest?"

"Just strolling and going as far away as possible."

"Ah! Running away from murder are we? Who slaughtered your family?"

"Who the hell are you? How do you know this?"

"You just gave me a concrete answer to a floating question little one. Don't worry I won't tell anyone. So who killed them?"

"I don't know, he didn't say a name and his face was covered with a mask. I could still recognize him by his voice though and.."

"Grab!"

The boy threw a flintlock in my hands.

"Why did you do this and for what could I possibly need this?"

"The mask you said, was it something like this?"

That mask, it is the same as the murderer of my family! This cannot be! After two years I can exact my revenge!

"Why don't you shoot me little one?"

"YOU! WHY YOU DAMNED AND FORSAKEN MURDERER! I WILL KILL YOU!"

"Go on then. Shoot me! I am eager to become your torment! You are no less of a monster than me little wanderer. You are the other part of the same coin as me."

I pulled the trigger but missed him and cracked his mask that was on his shoulder.

"I will give you only one another chance to aim and shoot, after that I will kill you. So are you ready?"

Aim, set, fire! He stood still and didn't even move. Did I kill him? It seemed not.

"Missed."

He's walking slowly towards me, what should I do?! I can't seem to move any of my limbs, what is happening? Is this the end of my vendetta? Will I fail?

"Embrace the chaos and my blood, terror made of flesh and nightmares in flood. Now sleep!"

The pain started spreading from my forehead, my vision blurred and red is slowly turning black.

"What              have       you done?"

"I still need you alive my little wandering murderer. I have plans for you and pains that you must endure."





I blacked out.


At my awakening I found myself laid on a bed. I didn't know the house nor where I was. A maid came in, she was no older than me.

"So the master's guest has finally awoken. Do you need any assistance, sir?"

"Where    am   I?"

"You're in the Hollow Residence. Property of the Rembrandt of Pain."

"The Rembrandt of pain? Who is he? Does he have a name?"

"For as much as I know he has never told his name to anyone. The Rembrandt of Pain is a murderer and executioner. He is still free only because they cannot find any proof that connects him with the murders."

"What the hell?! How can this be?"

"It's simple, he is a master at his art and his art is murder."

"This is insane! Let us run away!"

"Why do it? He treats me well, gave me a roof over my head and raised me. That is something quite amazing for someone of his age."

"How old is he?"

"Well I would guess twenty years max although many of the paintings in the residence are at least five centuries old and depict him with various families."

"This must be a nightmare!"

"Oh by the way breakfast is ready the master won't be back for a while."

"Where is he?"

"He went hunting. He will come back in a month or two."

"What the hell is this nightmare?!"

"Stand up and follow me to the dining room. Oh also how would the master's guest like to be addressed?"

"Just call me Wanderer."

"Well then Wanderer sir, my name is Samantha. If you need anything from now on do not hesitate to call me."

"Samantha, such a fascinating name."