Rick felt a light tugging on his shoulder, roused from deep sleep, sleep lacking the usual nightmares, being an absolute pleasure. It took Rick a moment to realise he had even woken, even longer to realise where he was and who could have woken him.

He slowly opened his eyes, like an old tortoise taking its first steps after a long day. Meeting his retinas was darkness dimly lit by a grey moon, light like the most pleasant curtain, like the most loving embrace. He turned to the side, meeting a faceless man wearing a wooden face. Mind taking a moment to realise he was looking at the warrior, one of his hands firmly, gently resting on Rick’s shoulder. As the warrior got Rick’s attention, he rose to his full peak, imposing height reaching up for the skies, pointing his strong, powerfull arm straight. Following the arm, Rick saw it.

First, he saw two glowing orbs, brighter than the moon in the sky. Then, as it walked out from the forest through the tree’s, it got dimly illuminated by the grey light of the moon, exposing itself like an actress when the curtains was pulled aside. It was bigger than Rick remembered, looking exactly like the monster he had killed earlier. Its canines the size of Rick’s hands, head the size of his torso, a mouth growling like a man gurgling water. The growling was deep, resonating with Rick’s soul, a deep, deep hatred, like a man fueled by nothing but rage. Rick saw it smelling, deep intakes of air, its growling stopping, staring at Rick with two knowing eyes. Rick stared back, and he saw sadness, deep deep sadness, replaced by anger, further replaced by rage.

Still, Rick found himself surprised. Not by the monster. No, it looked exactly as he had pictured it, as he remembered it. What surprised him was his own feelings, cold and bottled, non-existent and gone. Not scared.

No, no, that wasn’t the right description. He felt, he felt… acceptance. He knew this to be his end, the warrior being their only chance at killing the monster. But as Rick hadn’t taught the warrior anything. Rick would have to lead by example, he would have to try to stab the monster and accept his inevitable death in the process. Yes, what Rick felt wasn’t emptiness, but an acceptance of death. Like a burden on his soul lifted, like his entire life having accumulated to let him leave at this very moment. Like his life coalescing into a singular point, the point being now.

Rick stood up, supported by the warrior, pushing him away, having to do this on his own. He turned to the warrior, gesturing for him to look at Rick, to copy him, to imitate. Rick didn’t know if the warrior understood, assumed he would, hoped that he could. Rick took out his knife, hands stiff and unresponsive. They would have to do. His legs wonky and unstable, each step a little better than the previous, but far from good. They would have to do.

He thrust forward with his body, with the knife, blocked an invisible blow, ducked underneath an invisible claw. All the while moving towards the monster, the monster doing the same. The two being miles apart, mere centimeters from one another. Their physical bodies might be far, but their two-hearts connected like lovers at sea. One wanting revenge, the other wanting to save. One wanting peace, the other sweet release.

Rick breathed in. He was no warrior; He knew his teachings would be far from perfect. But he hoped, once he attacked the monster, that it would be enough for the warrior to understand, to replicate, to imitate. Rick breathed out, stopping in his step, the monster doing the same. He lowered his body; The monster did the same. The two like fencers ready to strike, like dancers on a ball. Yes, Rick was ready.

Just as Rick was about to jump off into an awkward sprint, a sudden voice stopped him. One that shouldn’t be here, one that was all too innocent to see what would happen here. It was the voice of Benji, and it screamed for his dad.

Both the monster and Rick turned their heads towards the small voice. Rick frozen like an ice cube, the monster stopped as if caught stealing. The two staring at the little boy, the little boy holding a knight and an ugly statue on his side, the boy staring at his dad, smiling wide, oblivious to the situation. Rick turned towards the monster, the monster turned towards Rick. And Rick saw within those two glowing eyes, he saw the monsters rage simmer down, replaced by a deep knowing, a deep thirst, a deep desire.

Rick was the first to run, running towards Benji, followed quickly by the monster. Benji stared at Rick with a happy face, contorting into confusion as Rick ran with a flustered expression. Then as Benji saw movement to his side, saw the monster, his face contracted into fear, eyes wide, as if ready to burst. He stood frozen, like a fish in a pond on winter.

The monster was faster than Rick, even as Rick pressed with all his might, pushed with all his strength, used every muscle, feet bleeding through the exertion, he knew it to be for naught. The monster would catch up to Benji and Rick would have to watch. Rick wanted to scream, Rick needed to scream, Rick begged, just this once, for the ability to scream. But like everything else in this world, the gods took no pity on Rick, forcing Rick to watch as he failed at even saving one.

Single.

Life.

Then a blinding flash replaced the dim grey light of the moon, cascading everything and everyone in a bright silvery light.