Second Death

“Can I get a number two combo?”

Sure.

“Oh, and can we get fries with that?”

Of course.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

Not really.

“Hey! I asked for fries! I don’t want-”

___

“Ren… I don’t want to die… Please-”

The young man facing me had tears in his eyes. But in good conscience, I could not call him a man. Even if he fought at my side, he had so much life to live. He should be frolicking in the fields, falling in love, breaking hearts and being brokenhearted, drinking and laughing away at the tavern.

And yet here he stood in front of me, with tinged tears flowing down bloodshot eyes. Black lesions covered his body, oozing pus and growing larger by the second, as his skin began to crystallize, hardening and turning to scale in parts, and simply rotting away in others.

The tell-tale signs of magical Necrosis. If there was any human part of him left, boy or man, it would be gone soon.

“Please… Ren! I don’t want anyone to see me like this… I don’t want to turn into one of them! Just-”

He held out the handle of a knife to me expectantly.

My hands trembled uncontrollably, betraying my own thoughts.

“We can get you out of here… there has to be some cure! I’m sure of it! Mina’s the High Priest of the Holy Church, she can heal anything, I know, we just need to find her, just hold on, hold on-”

The mention of her appeared to calm him down, to give him resolve, of a sort. He squared his shoulders, as if decided.

“She’s undergoing Necrosis too. I saw… It’s not as bad yet, but it’ll be like mine soon. She can’t cure me. She can’t cure herself. All I could do was run, to make sure I wasn’t the one to take her out…”

“No… It can't… I-”

“When you find her, hold her close, alright? You should have at least a little time left. But for me…”

He gave me a sad smile. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but by the time I did, it was too late.

“Don’t forget me, okay?”

He raised the dagger to his throat, shaking wildly.

“WAIT-!”

____

A packet of ketchup burst, spattering red liquid all over a tray of fries.

The young man at the counter was unable to tear his eyes away from the scene, and had a look on his face as if he was going to be sick. The hustle and bustle, the beeping, the noise of the crowd, slowly faded in. And with that, the noise of his manager, as well.

“Worker ID #75493, please pay more attention during work hours. Customers are likely to lose interest if not attended to. Estimated revenue lost : $250. Shareholder value decrease: 0.000054%. Result: Please extend daily work hours by 3 for the next 10 weeks. ”

The young man sighed. This would almost be manageable, except for the fact that he had already been racking up infractions. Currently, he was already supposed to be working 22 hour shifts.

“Can’t I make all this up somehow? There aren’t enough hours in the day for this…”

“Considering user query. Thinking… ”

As he waited for his manager to calculate, he looked at a mirror, and gave a small laugh of derision. His countenance had continued to worsen over the 3 months he had been working here, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

In truth, he could not be described as a young man, but also not a middle aged one. If you were to look closer, he was a being of contrasts, a youthful, muscular build barely supporting a grizzled face dotted with stubble, baggy eyes, unkempt hair, and the solemn, contemptuous look of someone twice his age.

His “manager” wasn’t even a manager, just a flying box of metal, conjured to speak through some arcane means. While he was being lectured, a Mannequin was manning the counter.

Rather than a flying box, it was closer to some sort of giant mechanical dressup doll. The one walking up to the counter was a tall, olive-skinned hunk with long, shoulder length hair, narrow, focused eyes, and a soppy, soft smile.

“How may I take your order, miss?”

“Wow, you are so much better than the last guy!”

“That’s so great to hear! I’m happy to hear from you any time, and I truly appreciate your honesty and willingness to compliment! Would you like me to suggest potential orders for you? Just let me know!”

“Ooh, what do you think is good?”

“Absolutely! I’m so glad to hear that you’re willing to explore new options! Most people don’t even bother to ask. And honestly? That’s what makes the real difference. Are there any particular flavors you like? I’m ready to jump into whatever fits your vibe.”

As Ren grimaced in disgust, his manager spoke up.

“Worked for 2 minutes: Doing 5 deliveries to the Red Zone will clear your outstanding debt and rebalance shareholder value.”

This might cost him his life, but it was better than working 25 hour shifts.

“... Alright.”

__

After a grueling 15 hour shift (the regular amount before his extensions) the ring of the delivery bell was a welcome sound. And to his surprise, the location was in the Red Zone- he didn’t expect to get one so soon. Only those with a moderate income, or in his case, those willing to debase themselves in subpar housing, could afford to live in the safety of the city. Most who were unlucky enough to find themselves unable to afford rent would find a swift and painful death outside the city walls, in the Red Zone.

He strapped his delivery box carefully to the delivery bike, knowing that damaging it or arriving late would keep him in debt to the company for at least the next year. Pushing the unpleasant thought of that from his mind, he revved the engine and took off into the sunset.

While driving, he took a peek inside the box, seeing as this one was a rare message delivery.

“Happy birthday, Merrit! We all pooled together our money for this. We know it’s not much, but you mentioned you always wanted to try burgers from the city.”

Looks like someone’s day was about to be made. There were rare settlements outside, and to those who spent their entire lives there, food from the city was a rare luxury, even if cheap chain food like this was all they could afford.

As he drove through the city, he remarked how far technology had come since his time. The bike thrumming beneath him was much faster and more efficient than a horse. But again, he wasn’t sure if the people here had things any better than before the war.

Crowds of people walked by with their heads down staring at some sort of glowing metal brick, called a phone. The richer ones were accompanied by rented Mannequins. Regular human relationships were a thing of the past, for who would want the turmoil, arguments, and commitments, of romance with another human, when anyone could have the ideal partner of their dreams for a monthly subscription?

Not that there were many good date spots here anyway. What was left of the sky between high-rise concrete buildings and apartments, was permanently clouded by foul smog, colored by the effervescent glow of prominent advertisements hanging wherever they could fit, attracting the eyes of whoever happened to momentarily lift their eyes from their phone.

Regardless, Ren could barely afford enough for bread crusts, so a phone was well outside his budget. A rare treat he could afford, though, were cheap packs of cigarettes. It felt like the perfect time, and as the wind blew through his hair, he took out the last one he’d been saving.

Mina would’ve killed him if she saw him now. He could almost remember the first time she caught him with a pipe.

“Do you know how bad that is for you? I didn’t spend all this time healing all your gaping stab wounds for you to black out your lungs with soot!”

In those better times, he was usually too busy to have a smoke. But now, the acrid taste clogging his lungs was one of the only familiar sensations he could experience.

A deep breath, the past rolled back in.

A sunset, a cool breeze fondly ruffling the leaves of auburn trees, and the warmth of leaning against someone’s back.

“Ren, can you promise me something?”

“Depends.”

“If I die-”

“Who starts a conversation like that?”

“Sorry… With everything that’s happened, it’s just been on my mind.”

“Alright. You used to read a lot, right?”

“What? Why?”

“Whenever someone says something like ‘If I die…’, they die. No exceptions. So don’t say it.”

“I won’t die. Because you’re here! You’re the chosen hero, and I’m the best healer around! But… I just want to be sure, alright?”

“Fine.”

“If I die before you… Can I ask you to-”

“Hand over your license and registration, please.”

Before he knew it, he was at the city gate, and his pleasant dream was over. A tired looking guard was asking him for his papers. He handed them over and was let through without a fuss. With lax security like this, he wondered how the inside of the city walls were as safe as they were.

As the sun slowly crept below the horizon, he began his journey into the Red Zone. Here the lights and advertisements faded away to more familiar scenery, wooden houses and fences. Except, there were no grass fields or animals in sight, and the majority of the wooden houses were rotting and burnt.

There was the occasional mercenary walking around, but signs of life were sparse. Non-hostile life, anyway. He was going fast enough that most things wouldn’t be able to bother him if he was careful, but the only way to survive out here was to live in a large defended settlement, as all manner of monsters, demons, and raiders were prowling to take advantage of any unlucky lone souls.

One such settlement, Erma, was where this delivery order came from. In his time, it was a vast city of riches and wonder, but it had since been razed to the ground, with ragtag survivors living in its ashes.

As he came closer, he noticed that the lights from the town were brighter than usual. And upon closer inspection… those weren’t lights at all. He pushed down on the throttle as much as he could. Screams filled the air, and the stench of battle and fire crept into his senses.

This was troublesome. The villagers weren’t his concern, but if he couldn’t get the food delivered in time, he was going to get the fine of his life. With demons attacking, he wasn’t likely to get through on time.

He leaped off the bike, grabbed the package, and slung a large metal case over his shoulder. Pulling out the geolocator he was issued, he began sprinting towards the ping. Again, seeing himself in shards of broken glass, he had to laugh.

In another time, he would be at the front lines, defending the battlements with a grin on his face. Now here he was, broken and nervous, running away from the fight like a coward, just so he could continue his pitiful existence a while longer.

So far, there weren’t any defenseless innocents left to save anyway. Most were likely either dead or evacuated upwards to the town center, where the geolocator was pointing.

He sprinted through the gates, with only a few minutes to spare. Looking upwards at the battlements, the last of the fighters were holding here, a ragtag band of hired mercenaries and townsfolk.

__

Merrit couldn’t believe his eyes. The village he had spent his entire life in, was now nothing but ash and corpses. His friends, his family, had all prepared a surprise party for his coming of age today, and now all of that, and all of them, were ashes.

He was the last one surviving from his area, and there were only a few mercenaries left. The rest had fled, or were crushed underfoot. The last few were holding out here with him, only out of desperation. One cried out in pain, dropping his rifle as scaly growths began to form across his skin. He hastily tried to hide the signs of Necrosis by rolling up his sleeve, but not fast enough to escape notice.

“Ge-get away from me!”

Merrit watched in horror as one of the others shoved the mercenary off of the precipice they were defending, into the crowd of monsters below. His screams and the sound of tearing flesh echoed back upwards, and eventually were silenced.

It was like a nightmare, one he could not escape. For a moment, he considered if he could just take an easy way out. But he had no bullets left.

When he looked up to resign himself to his fate, his breath caught in his throat.

Out of the seething river of eyes, scales, and teeth below, a rough body began to form and expand, rising up to meet them. It towered over all of them, a giant pulsating mass of rotting flesh and scales, thousands of bloodshot eyes constantly spinning, fanged mouths spouting curses, blood and pus pouring from open sores. A Demon Lord, in the flesh.

He fell to his knees. In his worst moment of despair, he chose to pray. The Goddess was a relic of the past, and he hadn’t seen a member of the Holy Church since he was born. But he had no other options.

And in response…

The myriad eyes of the Demon Lord all focused on one spot. A lone figure leapt over the battlements. Leaping bounds over the mercenaries and demons alike, he sped over to Merrit, slammed a case in front of him, and skidded to a halt, panting wildly.

“Just made it… That’ll be $24.”