Something about this world bound humans with a rope, pulling them back in every time they tried to walk out when it wasn't over yet. Maybe it was love, or maybe a goal or even greed, but sometimes it was just nothing. Some people lived for the sake of living and breathed so as not to drown.

Jackson only lived because he was told to do so.

Having lost the few coins he had; he ran around the city looking for the thief after the policeman never returned. He asked people and interrogated the shopowners that didn't even notice the incident. With each step, Jackson felt his knees go weak, and his will vanish.

Soon after the passage of exactly an hour, the old man gave up and dragged himself around the city till sunset.

The rope around Jackson's leg widened.

"Wasted an entire day of work for nothing, no money for today or tomorrow. What a beautiful life this is." Jackson laughed miserably as he sat on a bench in the empty park facing his work department. Jackson couldn't brush off that strange feeling of being watched. A familiar presence that accompanied him in the last few months. One that was calm yet not welcoming, and under the broken lamplights of the park, Jackson stood his ground and refused to run away from his persistent pursuer.

Droplets of blood fell off his nose, heartbeats resounded in his chest, and his eyesight became blurry. It was 'it' again? He looked up and down, right and left. There was nothing.

//Nothing.

Who was Jackson?

A man that was a product of cruelty and degradation, a man walking on eggshells all his life. That old chest was carrying the worst of pain, that swollen heart was eager to break out of this walking corpse and ask for a rebirth, to be one with a human of a strong will and an unbreakable dignity.

As the clock ticked seven, the pursuer revealed himself behind a tree, lurking in the shadow as he whistled a wistful rhythm.

Jackson lift his chin up, looked at the dark cloaked figure approaching him gently. The fear that he had anticipated as the pursuer appeared wasn't there, instead, the old man felt an unfamiliar sense of relief.

The raging storm knocking him from inside out calmed down, and the whistling relaxed him as the pursuer sat down beside him.

"This is it?" Jackson asked with trembling tired voice. The pursuer sat down calmly, still whistling that rhythm while looking around the empty park.

"Yes." He replied, looking straight deep into Jackson's eyes. He was an extremely pale man with unsettling dull features, no eyebrows and a black hat covering his bald head.

"How long have you been watching me?" Jackson asked in despair.

"Ever since you knew." The pursuer replied as his whistling stopped.

"Why didn't you do it earlier?" Jackson asked.

"Well, the truth is, I've grown to like you, Mr. Jack." The pursuer smirked as he starred into Jackson's tearful eyes.

"What does that mean? You were torturing me! The least you could have done was to eliminate me as soon as you could have..."

"Why? Because you were too weak to do it yourself?"

Jackson diverted his vision away from the man, he felt ashamed to be mocked by that stranger. He kept evading his sharp glances until he realized that this time, he couldn't run.

"Its not weakness to have hope." Jack said, staring at the birds resting in their nests.

"Oh, right. Hope! What a funny way to think, Jack. Sorry but we don't have much time left to discuss these pathetic human concepts." The man said.

"I still have so many questions..." Jack cried as his nose bled.

"Look at these birds over there, underneath the lamp." The man said, pointing his finger at a group of birds.

"What about them?" Jack asked in confusion.

"Have you ever touched a bird before, Jack?" The man said.

"I-I don't think so." Jack trembled.

The man whistled a certain rhyme that attracted those birds to the bench, as one of the birds obeyed him as if he could speak to them, it approached Jack and came closer to his hand.

"Touch it." He said, ordering Jack to touch the bird.

Jack didn't hesitate, and as soon as he had put his fingers to pat on this bird, they went right through its body as if it was merely a ghost. Jack gasped and reached to touch it again with his other hand but once again, his hand went through it.

Jack remained silent, his nosebleed stopped, and his eyes were no longer blurring with tears. He had come to a conclusion that he wished he had never known.

"I think I answered your question now." The man said, fixing his black hat to cover his face.

"No children, no family, no friends, always quiet and obedient. You were the perfect prototype of a human working machine, a one made of flesh and blood and bones, Jackson, you were such a miserable man. "

"I couldn't change what was written for me."

"I thought so. Your time is over, it was a pleasure chasing you, I'll remember it"

"No other chances, right?"

"Never."

The man knew Jack couldn't resist what was coming for him, he pulled out a gun-like figure with a syringe in its opening, in a few seconds, behind the eyes of the very few passing by, the agent smothered Jackson with his steel hands and inserted the syringe into his submissive body, leaving his eyes all white and his mouth dripping saliva, the agent lied down his body peacefully as he sang a melancholic song while walking away, "Even in death, always obedient, a perfect loss."

The truth of the world died with the old man. Jack's body rotted and joined the earth in seconds. The sinister man walked away to his second victim, cleansing the world of those who dared to see beyond the veil.

Steamhall.

The thrill of the chase faded away from Merit's heart, tears streamed down her face as she dragged herself away from the station while carrying her heavy bag and broken heart. She looked all around her in this grown-ups world, drunken men and women swaying across each corner and beggars with no dignity secretly snatching money out of each pocket that passes beside them. No one looked at Merit, no one cared to know what this young child is crying of. She would drop dead in the street and they would be scared to approach her.

Something about that camera nagged Merit. She felt it was evil, perhaps even possessed. She picked it up from her bag and ran into an empty alley where she could take it out peacefully. Once she opened her bag she saw Jackson's belongings and his notebook but she ignored them.

"Open up, come on" She angrily turned it on and pressed the switch button until she reached the last image. She took a deep breath and then slowly pushed the button again only to confirm her suspicions.

A string of images appeared. Black and white, filled with strange figures and a horrifying show. Similar to watch she watched on the display TV in stores. She pressed it till she reached the last image, she zoomed in to the only visible face in the picture.

It was the same man chasing her. Grinning like a maniac as people were running in front of him, Merit squeezed her memory to remember when she ever took these photos, but she couldn't remember at all.

"Who took these?" Merit asked herself in fright. She cannot remember how such horrendous images can appear out of the nowhere on the camera she hold on tightly even in her sleep. Confusion made her as fragile as the biscuits in her bag. There were no boundaries between reality and fantasy for her, and most importantly, there was no one to explain anything to her.

Her tears dried but her heart pumped adrenaline into her weary body. She slowly put the camera back in the bag and walked out of the alley, finally knowing her destination.

She moved, eyes fixed on the ground, confused and somehow curious, even her heart wouldn't let her take a second look, she knew that some shattered feelings are attached to those images, but her mind cannot put the puzzle together. She fetched for memories that recall such events, but found none.

"Old Ross needs to see this." She said, walking slowly in the streets all the way somewhere where she could finally find a shelter. On her way she stood in front of the gutters and sighed miserably. Her breath let out the suppressed anger and sadness she hid, it was a complicated feeling, a memory she held on that slowly drowned her in disappointment, her reflection in the water showed what terrible things did this girl see, but it was all unpunished. Merit spread her hand in the free wind and threw it, she looked away, "I can't hold on to you anymore..." she sighed, leaving the necklace in the gutters.

"A scum like me shouldn't wear something that precious." She cried, walking away.

A journey begun once Merit's eyes were opened to a mystery only she could solve. Sniffing her scent like a dog, the man from the image followed her trail, promising her the worst fate and a painful end to a challenge they both took.

The perfect loss is never grieved as no one shall ever know it existed.