A fanfic

Today I will tell you a story.
A long story which involves kings, ghosts, worlds, wars and a man.

Long ago, there weren't any zones. There was, however, a world. In said world, there was a huge city. It was prosperous and big, with its area going by several miles, and having several huge skyscrapers. Its inhabitants were a bit like us, only monochrome in color. But it is not about the city itself where the story lies. No.

The story is about, mainly, a man. A young, insecure and quiet man. His name shall not be known, so we will refer to him as Young Man. This man was a Postal Office worker at the city. Day after day, he would stamp the letters they sent to him and send them to another room. He never opened any of the letters, nor did he slack at the job. He was focused on his duty.

Said Postal Office was property of the Country's king, which was frequently referred as the Toad King, due to his hideous appearance, and gross manners. Letters from all over the city, from simple ones, to love letters and extremely important ones passed through that office everyday. Said letters couldn't be opened or read in any way, unless you were the boss of said office.

Because of that, the people of that city started to abandon using letters and packages, since they did value their privacy. This ended up with fewer letters being sent, and the work at the Postal Office diminishing. Now, our Young Man wasn't bothered by that. Less letters meant less trouble and less work. And less work meant less hours at the Office. And with that, he could return to his home by magnet train, where his lovely wife of his was.

His wife was a strong-willed woman, of name Maria, that lived at his house, cleaning and living her life. Some objected for her lifestyle, but she often bit back by the fact she chose that lifestyle for her. She had also raven-black hair, with white skin and thin framing, making her body quickly contrast by her ever-burning and passionate personality.

The Young Man, however, was shy and insecure, often staying quiet at a side. He almost always wore a hat, which was as black as his own hair and usually hid his eyes. He loved his wife a lot and she loved him back. After he got back from work, they would eat dinner together and watch TV. Everything seemed fine with the Young Man's life, especially since a third family member would soon be with the couple: a child, concieved from a nightstand at a bed.

One day, everything changed on the Young Man's life. Forever.

It begun on a fateful day. The Toad King decided to do a public audition, and due to that, the Postal Office closed earlier. Now, the Young Man didn't care much for the King. He just lived his relatively comfortable life. With the work done, he boarded the  magnet train to his street, which was pretty far away from where he lived. Everyday, he would board the train and notice the people which he boarded with. It wasn't his fault, since there wasn't much better things to do at a filled train.

Stop after stop, the train was becoming more and more empty, until there were three people left at the train: The conductor, the Young Man, and a Masked fellow. The silence went deafeningly at large, with only the moving train's whooshes against the wind and some unclear radio music being played as background sound for the situation. The windows showed the city at large, with a clear sky. Against one of the windows, sitting the opposite way, was the Masked Man. He was looking down, examinating his own dirty hands. A thing that the Young Man noticed also was how dirtied and casual did the Masked one's clothes looked like: A T-shirt and a pair of washed-off black jeans, contrasting with the Young Man's white-collar work attire. To make things even more of a opposite way, the Young Man was sitting near the window opposite from the one the Masked fellow was sitting near.

The silence went on for a full two minutes that felt like an eternity, until the Masked Man spoke to the Young Man.
"Hello. How are you?" He said, still gazing onto his hands, like they contained valuable information. The Young Man, being polite, said "Hello. I am fine..." and quickly looked to the window at his side, as a way to avoid a conversation.

This didn't work, however, since the next question the Masked Man asked was inviting for an dialogue: "Are you going to see the King's audition?"

"No." Answered the Young Man, bluntly, still focused at the window. "I have no business there. I just want to return to my home and my wife."

"Really? I am going to see it. The audition." Said the Masked Man, now gaze directed at the Young Man. Some seconds later, he added: " I wanted to see if he really is like... they tell. Have you seen him?"
"Personally, no. It's weird knowing that you were employed by a boss which you never saw its face..." After the Young Man said that, the Masked Man began to feel somewhat apprehensive. If that mask wasn't covering his face, the man would have been greatly suprised. "He is your boss?" The Masked Man questioned, with a quite impressed tone.

"Boss of my Boss of my Boss of my Boss, actually. I am just a Postal Office stamper. I just stamp packages and mail." The Young Man answered, and started to look at the Masked Man. Said Masked fellow was now slightly calmer, but still maintained an alert stance.

"I see. I was a doctor. Back then." The Masked Man remarked,sighing and looking across the train they were in. The sky was beginning to darken, little by little, as the Sunset arrived. The Young Man risked a question. "Got fired?" He asked. The question lingered in the air, leaving the Masked Man speechless for a while, until he responded, on a quieter voice. "It closed down. It was sad when it did, not so long ago." "How long?" The Young Man asked, curiosity taken over. "A few years ago." Was the answer provided by the Masked one.

And so they continued to talk, going from work happenings, to family, to pets, a bit about women, sports, and a bit about everything. Until it arrived at the Masked Man's stop.
"It was fine talking with you. We could even be friends." The Masked Man said while heading to the exit door. "It was fine too, thank you." The Young Man answered. He had a good time talking with the masked individual, but he was still longing for reaching home.

After some time on the train, he finally reached home. As soon as he stepped inside the house, he noticed that something was wrong.

Usually, whenever he got home, his wife would appear nearby and ask him how was his day, if the work is okay, etc. And when he answered, he would get a tap on the back, and a reassuring smile from his wife. But today wasn't the day.

At the white living room, which was the first thing that was reached from the entrance door, there was his wife, sitting on the grey-colored couch facing the Television set. On the TV, there was an image that took a while for the Young Man to process.

It looked like a smear first, but then, immediately after, there was a face-first on the ground fallen fat king, and a masked person running. First, the Young Man assumed the King had tripped and fell down. But further examination showed an ever-expanding blood puddle. The Masked person looked like exactly- No, it wasn't the same guy, he affirmed to himself in his mind. There were maybe a hundred thousand more masked people like the fellow which was riding the train with him. Right? Right? Except that no. The man who killed the king and passed in a haste was the exact same person which he had talked happily about baseball 45 minutes ago.

This had left the Young Man in shock. He was talking with a terrorist, which could take his own life at any rate, any second, and he didn't realize it. His mind was filled with doubts and fear, until a rather sweet but strong voice broke him free of his mind-induced trance.

"Unbelievable. They just killed that stupid Toad King." His wife Maria said, while sitting at the couch, looking at her dazed husband. Said husband took this by suprise and quickly answered. "Yes, they did. I wonder what will happen at work now."

Taking the hasted answer as a good answer, Maria stood up, and walked to the kitchen after turning off the TV. The Young Man, however, stayed there, eyes fixed on the now-dead TV screen. It was interesting how TV made some facts that could be disturbing or problematic trivial. It could all magically disappear and cause no more harm with a single press of a button. Like Magic with a capital M.

A voice came from the kitchen. "Hey dude, the dinner's ready. Don't stay just there if you want to eat it." The Young Man turned around and rushed to the kitchen, where his wife was at the table filled with some plates of different food. He sat down and picked up a plate, filling it with rice, steak, beans and vegetables. Maria, wanting to break the silence once more, said: "So, how was work today?" "Average as always. I exited earlier due to the audition." answered the husband, picking up a fork and a knife to divide the meat. He did not want to talk about the encounter at the train. Maria, then, unamused with her husband's lack of speech, said in a somewhat playful tone:

"You are lying... tell me more or no dessert for you."

That phrase hit the Young Man straight at the weak spot. He had a severe weakness to the delicious desserts his wife prepared. She had great talent on the culinary area, as it could be noted by how delicious any of her foods were. This made the Young Man confess to the wife about what happened at the magnet train. The woman at first stared in pure disbelief, then in shock once the man described the person and what happened afterwards. The story, having been finished, left the wife mute for two minutes. That worried the husband, since as he knew well, whenever his wife silenced in a sudden it was because she was thinking.

Sometimes, as the Young Man would notice later, the most suprising, disturbing and desperate things happen with a span of a few minutes.

"Well, consider yourself lucky." Said the wife, staring at an empty wall. The rest of the night went as a normal, usual day.

Now, the days passed. The Postal Office was closed until new bosses were found, due to a law. The City was quiet, but uneasy. Even if they searched the city from square to square, looking in all of the spaces, homes and lamps, the King's assassin, the Masked Man, wasn't found.

The history is now going to jump from the Young Man to a place. A palace on the richest part of the city. Only people with VIP passes could enter it, and it was the Centre of great reunions of some of the richest people on that world.

It is ironic, though, that sometimes, the more riches one accumulates, more rotten one becomes. Some even joke that the rich elitists are just better-looking thugs with whole strings of the world in their supreme, unchanging power, that could destroy whole homes, ecosystems, and lives.

On a certain day after the Toad King's death, all of the major rich people reunited on the blue central room of the palace, to discuss over a new monarch, or over which rich would own the City. They sitted around the luxury circle oak table, with a map on the center, marking each of the present one's domains. The room was somewhat dark, with only the light of the lamp shining over the world map.

"So, did they find the unworthy peasant which murdered our puppet for guaranteed domain of this city?" Said one of them, impatient on his chair.
"I'm afraid not. That rat had hidden himself well, I shall admit." Answered one, staring intently at the lamp.
"If that is so, who has the control of this city?" Another asked, expecting a definite answer.
"I believe we have to set that in a week or so, gentlemen." Said another one, standing up from his chair and leaving.

The City was a central and stategic point. Not only because of the factories and the commerce, mind you, but because of the fact that the City had enormous mines that provided with sturdy metal. Naturally, this made it an disputed territory for all of the richest men to fight over.

And whenever a lot of people fight over a territory, there is always a tragedy. No exceptions.

The rich men mused toward themselves and chose to stay at the palace for a while to search for a solution.

The night came towards the sky and one of them was taking a bath on the bathroom by the bathtub. The clean white tiles shined on the wall with the bubbling hot water on said bathtub, which was colossal. The rich man was not only relaxing on the bath, but plotting. His mind had nasty thoughts of how to eliminate the opponents. The city was his, and only his, and no one else should touch it. He was in fact, so immersed in those noxious and greedy thoughts that he didn't notice a door opening and closing, showing a figure which approximated him slowly, with carefully timed steps. When the shadowed figure was near, the man turned around and screamed. A knife was the very last sight he had.

Soon after, the rest of the people rushed at the bathroom after hearing the scream and opened the door, but at this time, the figure had been long gone. The clear tiles weren't clear anymore, now sprinkled with blood. The bubbling water had red on it and a dead body. The causa mortis had been due to blood and oxygen loss: two major arteries were cut down by a luxury-class knife, making a
rather bloody way to go. This unnerved everyone. Someone out there killed the man and left no visible trace or evidence. How could that happen? They asked themselves in confusion.
Little did they know it was the first of several murders that happened on the week at the house.

One by one, the rich men died. Some by poisoning, others by gun, and some by unconventional methods. The atmosphere was becoming tenser and tenser, the only records being of a figure haunting the palace. Only one man remaining at the end, on the blue central room of the palace.

Said man was tense. He was afraid the figure would get him and kill him. He had an idea then. A suicidal one. He picked his phone and dialed his personal army to prepare the bombs. If he couldn't get the world, then all be damned. The world was his and only his and NOBODY else. On his other hand, he prepared his gun. After finishing the call, he pointed the gun at himself and trembled.

Just before the trigger pull, he swore he could have seen the figure looking at him from his side. The trigger pulled, making blood, gore and parts of skull splatter at the ground and the wall.

The Masked Man never found killing people that easy. He just needed to get rid of the richie at the bathtub. The rest was simply ones killing the others. But he now needed to run.

Now, we go back from the luxury palace to our Young Man, which was enjoying his life.

He was with his wife, near an empty baseball field. Everything was fine, average. Some people were passing, often chattering happily. The sky was blue colored, the grass was lime green, the sun was shining, and an explosion was heard. Wait, an explosion?

That certainly was. The wife yelled at his husband to hide, because something bad was about to happen. The nearest open building had been their house. They ran at full velocity, entered it, and walked into the basement, where some supplies were located, along with faded photos, bags and clothes. And their fears quickly went on open when another boom was heard, this time a little nearer. The explosions were constant, making wife and husband hug themselves at the little space they had.

At such situation, both of them cried, with the woman maintaining a firm face, even though tears rolled down, and the Young Man hiding his face on the embrace against his wife.

Two days passed and the explosions ceased. They went back up, fearing for the worst that could happen.

The house was still on its place, with everything quite alright. The two sighed of relief, which they needed very much, because as soon as they stared at the window, they couldn't believe the sight that happened before them.

The trees were bent and broken, some scorched and fallen, with the before-green leaves a no-more. The ground was now dry and lifeless, without any sight of grass. The few patches were dried up and yellow. Most of the houses of the neighborhood had been destroyed, now only with some pieces of the house and furniture showing up. Some dead bodies were shown, lying at several position, and most of them either burned or lost some limbs, some even had both of the attributes. This sight made the couple sick, but it didn't deter them from exiting the house in order to search for survivors on the city.

They searched on the debris of the City, ruined and rotten due to the bombs. The buildings were now broken, only hubris and steel where before was imponent construction. Cars were left around, most of them utterly destroyed. The scenario was desolated, devoid of life as the two passed.

Or so they thought.

On a sudden, various bedsheet-like ghosts spiraled themselves onto existence from posts and broken walls. Their white, glowing ectoplasmic appearance stood out from the destroyed remains of civilization, and as soon as they spotted the young couple, they started to attack them.

That took the couple off-guard, but before the ghosts were to kill them both, they decided to play a bit with the prey. To start, they separated the couple, the wife being picked up by a group while screaming obscenities and kicking, the husband being snagged by another group while he was attempting to reach his wife.

So the punishment began. At the husband's group, they picked him up and started by giving him a hell of a ridiculous wedgie and laughing as he tried to get his briefs off his face. Then they stole his hat and putted if just a few inches out of his reach and lifted it whenever the Young Man jumped. He hated that. He hated those ghosts. So. Very. Much. And to pour salt in the wound, they threw the hat away, and then they held him up and threw the man at the ground. They would do more times, but they were interrupted by a wail coming from the side.

It was the man's wife. Furious and wounded, she had enough of the punishment by those ghosts and seeing them hurt and play with her husband like he was a toy made her go berserk. The distraction was enough for the Young Man to get his hat back and stand up, running away. His wife, when angry, was capable of taking on several men by herself. He knew because he had seen it back at high school, when a gang of bullies attempted to get her lunch.

Soon, the woman lunged towards the ghosts and eliminated them by her bare hands out of desperation. Afterwards, she fell on the ground, being very tired. With that, the Young Man approached her and carried her back home, hoping that no other problems would happen while they were coming back. The couple was passing on a barren land, on which the sky was teal gray, the trees dried and the ground light brown.

"Damn it." Said the wife, being carried on the man's arms. Her expression was of a mix between tiredness and anger. "I could have saved you earlier. But those... devilish ghosts..." "Shush now, please dear. You are hurt and you did well." The husband replied, with his voice on a whisper. He was concerned about his wife's physical state. But that did not prepare him to the next part.

A small sob was heard. When the Young Man looked around to discover the source, he got suprised: it was his wife. Her tears were all over her face, reflecting the scenery, which was darkening with the night reaching the sky. "I'm sorry if I am weak..." She spoke in a whisper, looking at her husband, which stopped only to listen to her soft words. "If I was stronger, you... wouldn't have to suffer that... nor would I..." The tears were rolling down her face at a more frequent rate. "Please, Maria, be quiet, you are hurt..." He replied, trying to suppress his feelings.

Deep inside, he knew he was weak. If he wasn't, those ghosts would have been vanquished. Maybe if he acted earlier, the whole situation would have not happened. Why didn't he act?

Why?

He found himself with tears rolling down his face. But he didn't cry, even though his face clearly showed pain and misery. He just carried his wife home and nursed her back to health.

Days passed and the two would switch places in order to get supplies. Once or another time, they would see other people, but their existence, to them, was usually of a day or an hour, before they moved on to never come back.

Day after day, the wife was subtly changing. The Young Man wasn't noticing, but she was changing.

On a fateful day, it was the Young Man's turn to get some supplies, more exactly, food. The couple usually "stole" food from the abandoned grocery store at where used to be the City. After waving his wife goodbye, he started to walk towards the deserted path.

The sun ravished hard, but luckily he had his trustful black hat and some light, white-colored clothes to help him to pass through the high-temperature place. Said clothes were of an old baseball uniform he had stored somewhere back from his college days. And they still fitted in.

He walked through the barren, red lands, while whistling an old song he once heard while watching a movie when he was a child. It helped him relax somehow. From time to time, he looked around to make sure there was no danger looming. Soon enough, he reached the ruins of the City.

Differently from the last time, said ruins had a lot of vines and grass growing in between asphalt and broken bricks. The sun was a lot less harsher, hiding itself on the thick clouds, making the scenery have an icy blue tone. The wind blowed strongly from some sides, making some pieces of paper containing ads for relatively superfluous products fly on a spiral. Graffiti made by some delinquents or thugs stayed on some of the houses, in which most of them had broken windows and roofs. The ground tiles were somewhat intact, with dirt on it.

The Young Man sighed and walked on the city, towards a park without trees and grass. This was too quiet, he silently mused while looking around. He could swear he heard a voice or whispers around the place, but he turned around and searched just to find nothing, this fact leaving him distressed. Luckily, the grocery store was nearby.

Said grocery store was a wreck: on the outside, the dark grey roof was partially collapsed, the white walls had not only vines growing, but also moldy stains that even reached the sign on the top, chipped-off paint and writings of ramblings about what seemed to be about ducks.

The inside was even worse. Water was over the floor, and the vines had grown on the inside of the store, cracking some tiles. A few things were functioning, like the refrigerator and the lightbulbs, which flickered from time to time. Without them, the place was even darker and cold-looking than outside. Food stayed on the shelves, some of it already rotten due to the conditions. Strangely enough, the store didn't just sell only groceries or food. There were attempts to diversify the stock, with soap, cleaning products and more miscellaneous items.

Inspecting the scenery, the Young Man picked up a basket and started to look for supplies. He timed his steps carefully, since the floor was slippery. But little did he know about the danger that lurked nearby.

On the wall located east to where he was, on a sudden, ghosts started to appear, leaving the man suprised. They laughed at him. "Look at that idiot over there!" One of them giggled while pointing at the man, which was running away. "Let's play with that thing." Another ghost said, and the bunch of ghosts started to chase after the man.

Unfortunately, the floor was slippery and wet, and due to this, the Young Man tripped and fell over, making the basket which he was holding fly away and crash on the wall. His luck was that he instinctly grabbed on a counter, preventing his complete fall to the ground. He was panicking, with the ghosts approximating rapidly, until he looked at the counter and noticed an object that would change his fate and life.

A baseball bat.

He snatched it hastily, just in time as the specters were close to him. He held the bat firmly, unsure still if he would survive the situation. His legs trembled slightly at the sight of the many ectoplasmic incarnations, but he didn't scream.

The ghosts started to tease him endlessly. "Oh lookie! The plaything is a manchild! A big baby! Ha ha ha" Yelled one of them. "And what about his wife, as I've seen? I'd rather take that vixen for myself, since this doofus doesn't even do her" Teased another. "This retard didn't even try to stop that gigantic crap of a masked dumbass to assassinate that fatass of a king." Laughed a smaller rude ghost. The teasing went on and on, and each tease made the man involuntarily hold up on his bat a little more stronger.

It eventually came to a point in which he couldn't stand it anymore. He closed his eyes and hoped nothing did go wrong. A ghost started to mock the man again, dancing around him as it spoke. "And you know what? This one is nothing more than a gigantic pile of s-" The sentence was cut down by a sudden swing of a bat that echoed across the room. The target being the mocking ghost, quickly disappeared, leaving the rest of the group of spectres in confusion about what happened.

In this meanwhile, the Young Man opened his eyes and found that the mocking spirit was a no more. Suprised with the outcome, he almost sighed in relief, but the group of ghosts had snapped out of its confusion and decided to attack the man by lunging toward him.

The man breathed and ran foward, hoping that he could get out alive. He closed his eyes.

One by one, the phantoms were destroyed by each of the successful swings the man used. Few by few, the ghosts tried to attack to no avail until they were totally gone. When the man opened his eyes, the place was the same mess as before, and the basket that he threw was nearby, with its contents spilled on the floor and wall. He analyzed the scenery, not believing on what did he just do.

He picked up the supplies, basket and bat and hurried to the exit and out of the city, because he didn't want to press his luck.

He ran for a while, thinking that the ghost group's death would have called some more specters, and that if he stayed there, they would all attack him and he would not exit alive. These fleeting thoughts distracted him so much, that he did not notice, when already outside the city, a rock that stood still on the ground.

The fall was spectacular, suprising the Young Man and making the baseball bat, supply basket and his hat fly away while the man landed on the marmalade-colored ground with a dull thud.

This immediately sprung the man back into reality. Upon raising his head from the dirt, he noticed how much the world had been barren and alone. He got up, starting to search for his objects. The sun was harsh, highlighting the earth like if it was a famous star. The basket was tilted, though luckily nothing broke with the fall. His hat was at a small patch with dried grass, its black fabric being easily spotabble in the land. The bat wasn't found at first, until the man found something that quickly contrasted itself from the place.

A field. And it wasn't a field of dried-up, rough and yellow grass that ocasionally appeared on the land, but a field of green grass with some flowers there. A closer look revealed the flowers to be mostly daisies and dandelions. A bunch of those flowers surrounded the fallen baseball bat, which was picked up by the man.

He stopped and looked towards the field, suprised by the sight. Months and months of looking and walking through the lifeless wasteland made the little patch of green land the most wonderful thing he had seen on his life by comparison alone. The green field extended itself to an area equivalent to a small house. He let his curiosity prevail and walked through it, quickly discovering the reason for the sudden green patch on a ruined land: A small body of water.

The water rested clear as the sky, reflecting the man's face and the bright blue sky above. On it, some clouds passed by, being light and white. The man looked at his reflection, analyzing his face and his details. While he certainly wasn't the most handsome man in the world, he wasn't left behind in the beauty department. He would stay there for an entire afternoon, but he remembered why did he exit his house in first place. He placed his hat on his head, picked up his things and destined himself to home.

He had a suprise when he reached his house.

His house wasn't the same when he came back.
To start, the roof was somewhat broken, with holes. The windows were all cracked up. The walls has smears and spots containing what seemed to be blood. There was dried green grass surrounding the house. At first, the man thought he was on the wrong house, and that he may have been turned at a wrong corner. But further inspection showed that was his house, indeed.

He feared for the worst. Someone -or something might have broke into the residence and killed his wife. He held onto his baseball bat and approached carefully the house. Each step he took looked like an eternity, until he reached the door. It took a lot of courage from him to open the door to see inside the house.

It was dark in there. He couldn't make much about what was happening on his house, but he faintly could make several things: broken glass on the floor, what appeared to be writings about something on the walls, the furniture, and a figure standing amongst the darkness. Its back was turned against his and seemed to whisper about random things.

He got near the figure in order to understand it better before attacking it. Said figure was tall, as tall as his wife. The long, flowing hair was the exact same as his wife's. But something in that silhouette wasn't his lovely sweetheart. Whatever that thing was, that certainly wasn't his wife.

The figure suddenly turned, revealing its face to the Young Man. Even though it was surrounded by darkness, the man recognized his wife's face. "Oh, did I scare you? I'm so sorry, dear." She whispered. "Sorry, but you are not my wife. What did you do to her?" He talked, holding his bat up. He knew his wife. She would never whisper like that. She did look nothing like that thing or woman, whatever it was. "Please, dear. It's me, Vader Eloha, the Queen, sugar cube." She whispered again, still on a neutral stance. "I do not know anyone with that name. Who are you and what did you do to Maria?" He impatiently asked, hiding his anger. "Oh, don't you see, lovely husband? I'm Vader Eloha, the Queen! Not whoever is Maria." He almost lost his patience if he hadn't taken a deep breath.

He turned on the lights in order to see better. As he could have guessed, the place was a huge mess: sofas were fallen sideways, water was running on the ground, some furniture was broken and there were several spots of blood in the walls. On the center, the figure was located, now revealing itself to be a light grey-colored woman with very long and flowy white hair, long and weird somewhat vine-like arms, and sunken facial features. That appearance before him spooked the man, but that did not take him aback.

"Listen. I am not playing games. For the last time, have you seen Maria? She's another woman, more or less of my size, somewhat hot-tempered and she was wearing an apron." He spoke to the woman. She blinked once on utter confusion, looked at a side, then another and answered by whispering.

"I haven't seen anyone there but me, the Queen." She tilted her head a bit, apparently trying to see or make something of the man's facial features hidden by his hat. He noticed that and instinctively putted his hand on his face. Whoever this 'Queen' was, she did not look human and even if she did, did not know a thing or two about society norms. And what if she was lying to him? What if that... thing killed his wife? There was no way in hell or heaven that those blood stains in the wall did come from anything.

"I am your wife. I will stay with you..." The Queen whispered again, retilting her head back at its place. The man just huffed, and started to make even more questions.

"Why are you here?" he questioned, pointing at her.

"I just found this house before, my dear. Remember when we bought it? We gave a good party! Then the whole apocalypse happened, making me and you stuck on this little formless place..." The reply.

"What about those stains behind you?" The question.

"They just appeared. I closed my eyes once, then when I opened them, they were there. But I'll clean it." The answer.

"If you are my wife, then why are you so... different?" Another question.

"What are you talking about? I always was like this." Another answer.

He then just turned around, sighing. "Well, that thing could be Maria. I think she's gone bonkers. It was probably a slip or too much sun." He thought to himself, bringing the basket filled with supplies from outside. He was still concerned. If Maria, his lovely wife, did hit her head, she would need assistance -and fast. But that woman thing did look rather fine and not that dangerous. He decided then, that the figure could stay at the house.

Another thing that he noticed is that although that figure that called itself "The Queen" was very different from his wife Maria, it had all of her memories, accurately and sharply. Even though he didn't like that figure much as a wife.

Several months passed since the incident.

In a fateful morning, the Young Man was wearing his suit, right outside his house, looking at the wasteland aimlessly. The woman, also know as The Queen, had been pregnant just like his wife. Ever since, he assumed the figure to be Maria and to move on with his life. Everything was quiet until a phrase was shouted from inside the house.

"My dear, I think I should go to an hospital. I feel pain."

That pretty much made him transit from calm on a place to hugely anxious. He hastily ran to the house, picked the woman and ran to the City. It was the closest place that had an hospital, even though he wasn't sure if there were doctors or not. All that mattered to him is that he needed to take that woman to the hospital and fast.

He was going so fast while carrying the woman, that the entire background looked like a smear to him.

In some time, they had reached the City and its hospital, which was near the entrance. As soon as the door was opened, he had found something that he never expected to find at the city: Other people, or in this case, hospital staff. He handed the woman over to them, explaining the situation to the group of people. They left soon after to attend the woman, leaving the Young Man alone sitting at the waiting room.

At the same room, he began to notice all kinds of things in the room he was into: The floor was clean, with its yellow and gold-colored tiles shining as some sunlight hit them from a window. The dark blue chairs were neatly arranged, with their reflection showing up at the floor. A basket with old magazines was sitting at the floor, near the man's chair. The white walls had some stains on them, but they were dismissed. "I guess that they didn't have materials." He said, while picking a particular old magazine up. The pages were still readable, despite all of the torn parts. He stayed there, submerged on the articles from various things, even though some he did already knew, as he waited for that woman to be better.

Several hours later, he was gotten out of his magazine by a call. He got up, then ran across the hospital, only stopping by a door to see the woman with a small child. It looked weak, but it was alive and seemingly well. The man almost screamed of how happy he was. Even if that woman was probably not Maria, that child was the bit of hope he had on the world.

His happiness was cut short when one of the doctors called him to a particular conversation at the door. When he attended, he heard one of the worst news a parent might hear, if not the worst.

"Mister? I'd like to talk to you in separate. It's important." The doctor called the man, which walked off the bedroom and in a separate, completely white-colored room with a small table that was equally white.

As the man sitted, the doctor huffed and looked sadly at the man, and announced the bad news. "I am sorry for you, sir, but unfortunately, your son is ill. He has a disease that is very rare." That hit the man like an atomic bomb, one that quickly destroyed all semblance of happiness from him and left only worry. "Is it curable or treatable?" He asked to the doctor, with voice shaky, though still looking calm. "Fortunately it is curable, but it will be a bit painful, I am afraid. He will need to take medicine and be on the hospital for a good amount if time." While the news were somewhat bad, there was still a glimmer of hope in them. That cheered him up a bit, although he still felt somewhat bad.

The woman was staying at the hospital for a while, they told him. In some weeks, she could go home. These words buzzed over his mind as he walked off the hospital and off the city.

At first, he thought about heading back on his home. But immediately after, he refused and started to wander aimlessly on the barren lands. Once or twice on some moments, he looked around, his focus on the nowhere that stayed beyond the lands and the world.

His wandering eventually took him to a fresh grass patch, of which he recognized from the other day, at the ghost incident at the City. The sun was finishing to set in order to give place to the moon. The grass was still green, with the daisies and dandelions at their places. The small body of water was there.

He thoughtlessly picked up a yellow dandelion that was located near one of his feet, as he did not know how to feel about the whole situation he, unfortunately, was in and blew the seeds away to distract himself and to feel slightly better.

The seeds flied around, scattering on the field, just like his thoughts and problems. He picked up another dandelion, this time, a  white-colored one that was located near his feet and repeated the process.

Several dandelions later, he found himself laying on the green grass. The moon had already risen, showing itself with its brilliant shine and its gray marks. Stars, millions of then, decorated the sky like glitter on a dark blue paper. The man sighed and looked towards the beautiful scenery. It was always ironic how in the day, the land looked always barren and ugly, but when the moon came, out of a sudden, everything, even the smallest pebble, became just a beautiful thing that laid towards the eyes.

And there he slept, careless of the dangers that could lurk at night. His mind fluttered and generated a strange dream, one that could mark.

A flash. Everything was blurry, then clear. He was now at a carnival, one of those that used to happen in the city. It was a clear night, with various posts lighting the atmosphere yellow. The other people were, strangely enough, silhouettes with huge red-colored smiles, chattering away things that he couldn't comprehend.
Balloons of all sizes, shapes and colors of the rainbow were given away for free- a thing that usually happened at really special occasions. Barracks and barracks with colored roofs sold either food or souvenirs such as toys or books, with interesting colors.
Lights decorated these roofs and shined with occasional flickers, while an old circus song played on the background.

The man looked at a piece of glass that was located on the earthly ground, and found himself wearing his business attire. He began to walk through the carnival, feeling lost in his little dream. Strangely enough, the carnival's barracks part seemed to loop itself constantly as he wandered aimlessly.

Until he had spotted a wooden deck located up high accessible by some stairs that were between two barracks. He followed and walked up the stairs, looking at the clear sky with no clouds or stars: only a lonely little moon. Upon reaching the actual deck, among various people-silhouettes and posts with bright yellow light, there was one that brought up to his attention due to its contrast.

It was a figure of a person that was a greyish white. It had a ponytail with darker parts on the points of hair, this ponytail kept together by an orange hair accessory. It was on a part of the deck, with its back turned against the man, focusing on what appeared to be a mountain that was very away from the place.

He, being interested on the figure, and having his curiosity dominate him, approached carefully the person. However, the more he tried to walk towards it, more the deck stretched along the way.

Eventually, the deck stopped stretching and he could reach the person.

"H-Hello? Are you alone?" His words stuttered. He could swear they floated out of his mouth to disappear like smoke on the wind. The chattering of the silhouettes was becoming a bit louder and more unclear.

"H-hey." He trembled, reaching his hand on the figure's shoulder. As soon as he touched it, the figure turned to him, somewhat suprising him along the way: It had no face. No eyes, no nose, no mouth, not even ears; Nothing. The chatter at the background loudened and started to almost break into static. The circus music was starting to fade alongside the way.

The figure and the man stared at each other for an unknown time interval, as it could be anywhere between a single minute or various of them. Suddenly, the figure turned its back to the man and climbed the small fence that separated the deck from a painful fall.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" The man asked to the figure, suprised at its seemingly suicidal act. "Are you going to jump?" He questioned one more time. The chatter was now even more static-like. Only some laughs were barely discernible from the noise and the circus music was a no-more.

The figure jumped, causing the man to hide his eyes with his hands, expecting a great fall and some screams. The noise stopped. When he took his hands off his eyes, he saw a very strange scene: The figure was floating in the sky, stepping in the air like it was a simple floor. It turned towards him, and gestured to him to approach and follow it.

He, dazed by the scene, obeyed it, and jumped right out of the deck in order to reach that strange person. It wasn't his fault, though: he was only curious.

His act did go totally wrong. Before long, he was falling an endless fall at a huge velocity onto the darkness. The blue sky quickly turned black, and the moon was no more. The distorted chatter started to appear again, with the laughs going more and more as the man's fall velocity accelerated. Then, suddenly, white-colored ground appeared on the abyss. When he was for hitting the ground, he woke up.

The sun had already risen and was up for some hours. He checked his head and palms: they were sweating due to that nightmare. Standing up, he decided to go back at the hospital, in order to help the staff.

Some time later, when he reached the building, he suddenly stopped at the glass door and looked beyond it. He saw somewhat less hospital staff. But he didn't care for that fact much, as he entered the building quickly.

The staff was helpful in order to direct him to a new room- one where the woman who named herself Queen and his child were located.

As soon as he entered the room, the infant, located in its small crib at the side of the woman's bed, yawned and opened its eyes. The woman was still bed-ridden, and looked at nowhere, taking a while to notice the man's presence. When she noticed him, she began to whisper.

"Hello, lovely husband. Our offspring is right here. They said to me that it was not good enough. I do not understand why, sweetheart." She moved her head to look over the baby, now awake and looking at its surroundings. The man didn't talk to that woman. He just looked over the crib in order to check the child.

Upon laying eyes, he actually smiled at the sight. Although it was a little weak, it would live if it was treated, and would live well. He picked the baby up and carried him. Even if most of his old life was completely gone, he had now something to hope and look for.

So, the time passed. Days and days that turned into months and some years. The man cared for the child and gave him medicine and some toys in order to make it feel better. When that baby slept, he would pass his time fighting the ghosts in order to make the world safe enough for his child.

One unfortunate day, everything changed again.

It had been a day like any other. The Young Man had been used to the rather new life he was leading. The other people that he sometimes found while fighting the ghosts called him a Purifier. He was at the City, fighting a horde of ghosts. These diabolical things messed up with everyone and made the living's life hell.

Between a hit on a ghoul's head and another, he heard a tremble. He ignored it, thinking that it was nothing, until he turned around to bash more of those undignified spectres and saw an horrifying sight.

One of the hospital's staff, a nurse, was being attacked and teared apart by an ectoplasm. The screams were loud while the body was divided like paper mache. Blood and gore were splattered on the ground and bones were broken in half as the screams ceased and the person's bodily remains dropped from the tearing. As the ghoul committed such a crime, it laughed at the demise of the "pathetic human". That scene made the Young Man's stomach turn sideways and his blood boil.

He didn't demonstrate his amount of fury because it would give that inhuman phantom satisfaction. No. He just calmly lifted his baseball bat, did a stance and jumped with all his courage to eliminate that demonic instance.

The hits were merciless and brutal, each swing stronger than other, and he stopped when he heard a small voice.

"Papa?"

He turned around and saw his child sitting at the ground, carrying a small teddy bear and looking at both him and the suffering ghost.  That child's eyes were glimmering with confusion with what was happening.

"Papa, what is happening?" The child spoke, waiting for an answer.

Unfortunately, the ghost had used this small interval of time to pick the child up and run away on a fast manner. The man didn't even blink before chasing the spirit with his child on a frenetic way.

The chase went through the town, but the man did not care. He was focused in one thing, and one thing only: The safety of his son. That ghost was going to become a little more than just "purified" with that act. On the ghost's side, though, things weren't as good as it expected. That man ran fast and was able to keep up with him on the race. To make matters worse, the kid it was carrying was starting to shake and struggle to break free.

It didn't take too long for the Young Man to reach that spectre, retrieve the child in a blink of eye and start to bash that demonic incarnation. But before he could give it a third strike, one of the buildings that was nearby started to collapse into the ground. The three didn't do much other than running even more away, with the man carrying his child and weapon. And while the first building was falling on the ground and becoming more debris, some other buildings were starting to fall apart.

The group ran away, and eventually ended up near the old hospital. For some moments, the panic passed. In fact, for some moments, it seemed that everyone forgot what they were doing in first place.

They didn't suspect that things would go from mildly bad to worse.

"Papa, look up the window! Is that the doccy?" The child on the man's arms spoke, pointing at one of the hospital windows. The group of three looked immediately up to find said doctor looking outside the window. Although said doctor wasn't much recognizable due to the distance between the window and the ground where they stood, they could make him doing some unknown actions.

Meanwhile, at the window, the unnamed health professional was picking up a megaphone and looking towards the three little dots on the ground: a white-and-black one apparently holding another one that was grey-colored, and a white one by their side. The doctor had seen the buildings crumbling and the problems. Because of this, it had prepared a megaphone for evacuating the area, before everything was wrecked by an explosion on the hospital.

It was a disaster. Bricks were thrown everywhere, the shockwave was tremendous and the Young Man fell with it. He immediately got up, and ran away, as fast as he could.

The last thing he saw before he fainted and released his kid to run away was a huge pile of debris falling over him. Afterwards, everything went dark.

When he finally opened his eyes, nothing felt ever the same again.

To start, the familiar landscape where he lived was gone. The ground was purely white, and the sky a light shade of grey. Even though the emptiness was very well known to him, nothing was right with that place. The trees, before appearing only once or twice, disappeared completely. The buildings were also a no-more. The only thing that was on the place, was white, white, some markings of grey and more white.

He tried to walk around in order to find someone that could give him a tip, or even to understand the place he was in. But the more he walked, more the landscape seemed the same, and more he felt lost on that land.

Eventually, he spotted something. A silhouette of what appeared to be an human. He held no doubts and ran towards it.

The silhouette eventually revealed itself to be an human-like being, a bit shorter than the Young Man. It was wearing a business suit that looked familiar.

The Young Man almost tackled the person, had he not stopped just in time. This resulted, unfortunately, on he tripping over and falling right next to the other person.

Afterwards, he looked up to see the smaller fellow. For a second, he almost grabbed his weapon, but it was nowhere to be found. He then, got up.

A silence went by as the two figures looked at each other. One was tall, thin and wore a white baseball uniform, with a black hat with its shadow that hid its eyes. Other was somewhat smaller, with two eyes that stared rather emptily and a business attire that had a black tie and pants and a shirt that was equally as white as the other one's uniform.

Finally a voice broke the silence.

"H-hello?" Said the Young Man, in a poor attempt to hide his fear to the other fellow.

"Hhhhh...." Gasped the other one, before adding another sentence: "Hello... I am an Elsen. Are you one as well?"

The Young Man, caught off-guard by the small bit of information his new-found fellow told about, had to reply: "No, I am not. I'm human."

"What is an human...? Oh, I remembered it now..." The Elsen said, on a monotone soft voice, which disturbed the man. Not noticing his listener's disturbance, he talked.

"You are not one... You are not human..." After a pause and a blink, another phrase was muttered from the Elsen. "You seem important. Are you the savior?"

"No, I am not. But clarify where are we, please." Came the answer from the man. He thought that it was an elaborate prank, or that he was dreaming. Hell, he could be in a coma! But his miscellaneous thoughts were once again, interrupted when the Elsen spoke again.

"Uhhhh... You are in a Pure Zone. I think... I was exiled because I tried to save my people... from The Queen... She doesn't make a good ruler..." In that last pause, the Young Man noticed something in that person's eyes. Could it be? Could they be tears? Could the Queen mentioned there be his wife?

"She let three people take care of the places, but they lacked moderation... A very bad thing is going to happen... My people will gang up on them and eat them... Eat the child, too if this keeps up..." The Elsen continued, tears rolling his face, while controlling itself to not cry in front of the stranger.

"What does the Queen look like?" The Young Man asked. At this time, he was fearing the worst that could be.

"She has long white hair... A whispery voice... Creepy manners... Why have you been asking?..." The Elsen answered, the questioning itself mixed with its voice.

With that, the man almost exasperated. His jaw fell by the sheer suprise, and his head was completely filled to the brim with questions. What happened to him? If he wasn't human, what was he? Did he sleep? Besides, if he slept, then how many months did he sleep? Did he actually die and go to hell or purgatory? Where is his son? Is he safe and sound? Is he taking the medicine so he could survive? It was so many of those questions, that he had to turn his back, sit on the ground and put his hands on his face.

It took a while of him staring at the landscape for his mind to re-arrange and let him speak a single question.

"How is the Queen's child?" He expected the worst, and the worst came like a running truck.

"It is very sick... The last time I saw... It was confined... It feels... forgotten... Just l-like me... P-p-robably... It will become a g-g-ghost..." The words stuttered from the Elsen's mouth, while said one was trembling, and holding his hands over his eyes, wiping the tears away. For some seconds he swore he saw a patch of grass, just over there...

The two individuals said nothing for a long time. Both of them did not want to cry or to desperate too much in the front of a complete stranger.

Suddenly, they noticed a patch of grass that was nearby, even though they swore that there was nothing there before. Interestingly, the grass patch was lush green, bringing attention from the two.

They got up and started to walk towards the terrain, for reasons that they couldn't comprehend. Maybe it was because it would distract them a bit from their suffering. Maybe it was because the grass was something new and special for them. Maybe even the patch was actually magical. The only thing they knew, though, is that the short walk made their minds empty for a small amount of time.

As soon as they stepped into the grass patch, though, they lied down and cried there, between daisies and dandelions, emotional pressure finally breaking them down.

One cried because his world and family had been gone, the last part of his hope was broken and possibly dying a slow and painful death, and he had nowhere to go.

Other cried for his multitude of brothers, forever serving four mad people, until one of his race snapped and chaos happened, causing an apocalypse.

They stayed there, tears on their faces, weeping quietly, for the destiny that was reserved for them. What did they actually do for deserving that?

"You're a coward. You didn't act, mister." A voice echoed at the man's head, reflecting his guilt. Had he acted against that Masked Man, none of that would have happened. It was all his fault. All his fault. All his.

It is interesting how much someone can suffer. One can suffer and release every emotion they have until they have nothing left. Some may say it is a safe mode in order for the fellow not to be hurt anymore. Well, that happened to the two after a while of crying.

Silence reigned again as the crying ceased. They were tired. All of their bottled-up feelings went to nowhere, leaving an empty shell of themselves.

Minutes passed as they stared onto oblivion, until the Elsen broke the silence, first by gasping and then by speaking.

"I should get back at them. They should not cause my brothers pain. And you, mister? What will you do?"

The words echoed in the man's mind. He had to do something, not let the chaos take over, and not let an even bigger problem to happen because of his inactivity.

He sat up and answered.

"I will purify them. I don't like to, but I will have to."

"But... mister... what if the evils are way too much?" The Elsen asked.

"I will have no choice other than to exterminate." The man said.

"It's... alright... It will be... your new... mission... a... sacred one... to save... us and the child... I guess it is better that way." The Elsen spoke pausedly, on an attempt to actually feel sad, because he knew to what extent the evils have become on the land he called home. But no feelings came. Nothing.

"My new mission. I have to accomplish it." The man simply muttered to himself. This time, the challenge was going to be harsh. He needed to neutralize his feelings. Hide them, so he wouldn't break everything. He done so.

"Listen... Sir... Batter... can I call you The Batter?" The Elsen lingered, speaking on that same soft monotone voice of his.

"The Batter?" The Young Man asked. It would make a nifty title name to go as. Since The Purifier was too much for him, maybe The Batter was a good enough name. "That's a good title. I will go as it for now on." The man said, now not simply a Young Man, but The Batter now. And he had a mission to accomplish.

"That's good too. I hope you succeed..." The Elsen replied, getting up his place.

"I will. But what if I had to erase that world? With your brothers?" The Batter questioned, and the answer half-suprised him.

"It will be good too. That will be better than a wrecked, disturbed world with suffering. It will be better that way." Another reply from the Elsen, this time, with an even more emotionless voice.

The Batter got up. He had a new mission now, but no equipment to speak of or even a way out of there.

Suddenly, the group of two noticed a small, blue-colored floating box nearby. They approached it, curiosity yet again taking over the two of them.

The Batter touched the smooth surface of the blue box with his hand. The box felt like cold metal. Then, said box ejected a weapon on the ground. It was a baseball bat. The same old one The Batter used at his first purification. He picked it up, and out of the box came a robotic, distinct voice.

"You have received the Harold Bat. Use it wisely."

The Elsen looked around. There was, alongside the terrain of grass, the mysterious blue box and the purifier, now The Batter. The latter was holding the weapon and contemplating it.

But before any of them could make any objections, the box popped up a menu with two options: "Go to Zone 0" and "Cancel" The Batter looked at the menu, then back at the Elsen. Menu, Elsen. Repeat.

"Don't harbor doubts. Just go on your mission, Batter." The Elsen spoke, paused and added, while the purifier was looking at him with some concern. "Do not worry over me. I am fine and I cannot return. If you manage to do it, I will know. But don't despair, as I am just a poor exiled one. Just..." The voice that came from the Elsen faded, as he haven't had any idea about what was he going to say next.

"I won't forget you." The Batter said, since he expected that little creature to ask him to forget all about it.

"Good. Now go. I am sure you will not be alone." Came the reply, making the Batter turn around and select the option on the menu. There was no time to give up. This time, there was a sacred holy mission to accomplish.

First, rings of light got around The Batter and made him teleport. And then, darkness came one more time.

An unknown voice rippled once in the darkness, one that would start his quest.

"You have been assigned to a being
called The Batter."