--That morning, Friday, Arco’s Story, 20 hours before the accident--

Asleep on Arco Jacks’ couch was the daughter of a highly respected senator with an enormous fortune. The Vasquez family had intergenerational wealth that went back beyond WWII, and even during all the wars after the apocalypse happened, that wealth hadn’t faltered. She was a product of how much human suffering?

An evil person.

Arco wanted to grab her snobby self-righteous face and punch it until his fist erupted from the other side. He wanted to tie barbed wire around her neck and hang her from the Arc de Triomphe. He wanted to skin her alive, cover her with salt, and let snails die upon her corpse. The amount of raw, unfiltered hatred Arco contained within his body towards this girl and ever single feux progressive out there caused his head to throb. He wanted to be violent. It was in his nature. The number of people Arco killed probably numbered over 100. He painted red not only because of his ideology, but because of the warped soul he wanted to express.

But he was too fucking logical.

Gah.

If only I were a beast, he thought. I could tear apart and throw the shreds in the trash, then seek punishment and die. Finally rid myself of this horrid life of torture and sin.

Alas, he was not. Killing her would do nothing. Despite the fact that she was the physical embodiment of everything that made Arco despise the world, she was just a drop in the ocean. Just a mere speck of blue on his red and black painting that needed to be killed. While his hands trembled, black tears flooded out of Arco’s eyes into the sink he stood before. They colored his face dark like eyeliner, and the person in his reflection was ugly.

He knew what he needed to do. Killing her meant nothing. But if he could shatter her ideals, break her down like the worthless human she is, then it would calm the ailing cries of his cursed soul. He wanted her to regret living. He wanted her to commit suicide after realizing that she wasn’t a human being, and rather a parasite draining from society.

The idea came to him in a dream.

Standing before him were two figures, one a horse and the other a lion.

Early in the morning, before the moon had set, Arco woke up, fully refreshed, and realized what he needed to do. First, he took Maxine’s bag and browsed through it.

Ha. What did he expect?

It was full of clothes. Of course a rich girl couldn’t get by without clothes. They have no personality, so they pretend to be something by how they look. And her clothes were fashionable ones. The type of thing someone would wear to try and fit in with ‘the poor’. But it was laughable. Anyone who had ever lived with filth could tell instantly that this was made for the wealthy.

There were also a few more items he took out.

Her wallet. Inside it contained a healthy amount of cash and all her identification. Arco contemplated taking some of it, but then decided against it. She already seemed apprehensive about being on her own, and he didn’t want to ruin the trust she had in him. It was easy to get, but a single mistake could cause her to flee. If he was going to ruin this human being, then he needed her to stay around.

There was also a notebook and photo camera. He briefly flipped through the pages and stifled a laugh. Yep. Just as pretentious as he thought it would be. The camera was important, and finding it just solidified the plan he needed to accomplish. Arco silently went and found the old hunting rifle he had and aimed it at Max’s head. He held up the camera and took a picture, framing it as though she were being restrained.

Not the best photo he had ever seen, but all that mattered was that you could tell who she was.

He set the rifle against the television stand and started putting all her belongings back in her bag. So far, things have gone well. Arco had an old typewriter that he used to create a ransom note.

Yes, his plan was to send a threat to the Vasquez Family, claiming he was holding their daughter hostage. Because she wouldn’t want to see them, it would be easy to keep her away if they tried to show up. And once he got the money from them, all he’d need to do is ditch her and run. When the clues all came together, she would realize how idiotic she was, and would never feel comfortable around human beings ever again. It would be an absolute destruction of the mind. That type of satisfaction was the main reason for Arco’s plan.

There was only a single thing he needed. Another piece of proof.

***

After Max got her haircut, Arco went back and collected it. The stylist seemed frightened by his request, but when Arco explained that she was going to make it into a wig, the woman calmed down and did what he asked. Arco took the hair and tied it together, shoving it into the inner pockets of his trenchcoat, along with the letter. It all came together in a large envelope.

Now he just needed to get away from Max for a short time. With his blessing, it shouldn’t be too hard to travel to the Vasquez house in a short time...but it was risky. It would need to be a good reason to seperate from her. Something that she would believe.

As they walked through town, while having some stupid conversation, Arco glanced down an alley.

At the back of it were two men beating down some street urchin with clubs.

Of course. That was exactly how he could get away with it.

For some reason, everything was coming together just as he wanted it to. Things were unfolding like inspiration, and whenever his mind started to stumble, a new clue emerged. It was absolutely perfect. This was his destiny.

Arco noticed Max staring off into the distance and realized she was deep in thought about something. He held his hand right in front of her face and snapped as loudly as possible, just to watch her jump.

“Yo, you zoning out? What did ya’ wanna get for lunch?”

“I have no idea. Anything is fine. Pick your favorite. It has got to be delicious since you’re a good cook and everything.”

“Heh, putting a heavy burden on me? Well, in that case…”

There was a small restaurant he liked to go to, where they made great sandwiches. It was also a straight shot to the mansion, and it was usually busy during this time of day. He’d be able to sneak off without much difficulty, and even if Max tried to follow him, the crowds of people would block her way. They sat down after ordering and she kept looking at a group of annoying singers outside wistfully. It was around time for him to get going, so he took a look at his watch.

“Hey, Max, I gotta go run to the toilet, so I’ll be back in a second. Make sure nobody takes my food, okay? That happens sometimes.”

She gave a weak smile back and nodded.

It was to obvious to tell what she was thinking. This fragile girl was frightened of her surroundings. Being alone even for a short while was difficult for her to do. But even with how tough of a request he was pushing on her, Arco knew there was no other option for Max to take. She knew nobody else. She wouldn’t return to her parents for whatever reason. She had burned every possible bridge that existed, save for his, which was covered in poisoned nails.

Naturally, he did not go to the bathroom.

Arco rounded the corner to where the bathrooms should have been, then left through the backdoor he knew was there. It exited to an alley, and from there he got to the street. After that, it was only a ten to twenty minute walk to the mansion. There were people who looked like staff walking around, so Arco leaned up against a nearby wall just to watch. At the front of the estate was a small outfacing mailbox with a small slip-in hole. It would only take a second to drop his mail off.

But the less people who knew about his existence, the better. If he left Max thinking she was duped by a ghost, and started questioning whether Arco was even real or not, it could only do bad for her mind. Really, that was the only point in this.

The problem was the woman standing by the large gate with a smile on her face.

The Vasquez Estate was quite large, and there were plenty of trees and greenery inside. To prevent anyone from actually going in, however, the land was wrapped up by a metallic spiked fence, with space in between barely enough to get your arms through. Arco didn’t want to use his blessing if he didn’t need to, but it would be pretty hard to pull this off without doing so.

The woman wasn’t a guard, per say, rather, from what Arco observed, she served more as a receptionist, greeting people as they walked by. The type of person who absolutely pays attention to the people around her. This was cruel. She was almost too attentive, and more than once Arco found himself looking away as she almost made eye contact with him from across the street.

God damn, he thought. Why try so hard? How much do they pay you to waste your eyes like that?

Dark thoughts were starting to invade his brain again, and his stomach growled. His fingers began twitching and his head was getting light. Fuck. He was starting to lose it.

“Hey kid, wanna make some money?”

This was the solution that came to Arco as he regained his sanity. There was an urchin standing in front of him, staring blankly as Arco held out a few bills. The brat looked at them carefully before raising his eyebrow.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just go play ball in front of that old lady over there. Get your friends. Easy peasy.”

“Is this for something suspicious? Are you a criminal mister?”

“Absolutely,” Arco said. “And I’m gonna steal a shit load of money from those bastards. They think they’re so great, living in a house like that. I’m gonna bring ‘em down a peg. Don’t you wish someone would?”

The urchin nodded fervently.

“I hate the old granny! Last time we kicked a ball into their yard, she popped it!”

“Then don’t worry, kid. I’ll get revenge for ya’. Now here, take the money and forget about me.”

Once the urchin had his money shoved into his pant pocket, he ran over to gather his friends. They had a small leather ball that they started kicking around like football. As they continued kicking it around, the woman guarding the gate became angry and shouting at them. That distraction was perfect for Arco, who didn’t hesitate once.

He knew how crowds worked. All those years as a pickpocket did him good, and he was able to move through it like a flash. As someone stepped forward, his foot found a place behind theirs. Nobody could see his face for longer than a second, because he only faced the back of people’s heads, and the ebb and flow of the human tide kept him just as elusive as the people around him. Becoming part of the mob let him step to the mailbox, right behind the lecturing gatekeeper.

He was struck by a sensation that made him want to go on a murderous rampage.

The streets smelled like sewage. That was just a constant blemish he had always known. As rain poured down from the sky, covered in ash, everything was dirtied. Smells lingered, and nobody cared to clean. It meant you had to constantly clog your nose to get by. Arco spent the entirety of his life living like that, but as soon as his nose moved to the estate, it all changed.

Flowers, a sweet aroma that almost enticed him in like a doting lover. It was almost too much, the sickly smell of a siren.

Only a second had gone by before he calmed down. Now was not the time to fuck up. This only reassured him that what he was doing was correct.

Arco slipped the envelope into the mailbox and stepped into the estate, taking a hard right to avoid being seen. It was like a different world inside. Not only were the smells different, but it was almost like the sounds of the streets had vanished. Then, he vanished into smoke.

***

--13 years ago--

Sitting in a bathtub full of blood, with symbols carved all over his torso and lower body, Arco prayed. He clasped his hands together and dunked his head in the blood. Blood of people he had killed mercilessly. He held his breath until he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, there was a handsome man with a horse’s head caressing him, both completely naked. The devil’s penis was completely erect and Arco knew he had been raped from the raw pain everywhere on his body. It was a familiar feeling. The devil holding him had various piercings all along his body, cut into his skin and hanging, many overlapping and connected to each other. The most eccentric of them were a pair of chains that connected the being’s nipples to his nose ring, and as the devil began speaking, Arco felt himself unable to feel anything. Like being trapped in a void.

“Greetings, young one. I see you have called upon me. What is your name?”

“Arco,” he said, coughing up blood. No, it wasn’t blood. It was some kind of black bile that stuck to his skin and smelled like oil. “Arco.”

“Then. Greetings, Arco, the human. I am the 70th Regent of Hell, 7th and final Great Prince, That Who Can Step Anywhere, Seir. It is upon your behest that I have appeared here, and your sacrifice was enough to please me. I have read the insides of your soul and determined everything I need to know. There have been many who ask for my blessing, but only few who I believe deserve it. You are one who will use it well.

“Anywhere you can see, you can step to. It will be as though you are moving through space unhindered, at great distances. However, the source of each step will be your body. A normal human who uses this blessing would instantly perish as all of their innards got rearranged through travel, but you will not observe that burden. To grant you absolute freedom, I had to destroy all of your insides and reduce them to mush. No longer do you have blood, or bones, or organs. All your flesh currently hosts is the ichor that will fuel your blessed steps. Once your fuel empties, you will die, and will then spend the rest of eternity waiting in my domain. Earlier, I gave you a preview. The void. Emptiness in all directions, for eternity. So live well, human, and enjoy the freedom I have temporarily provided.”

***

Instantaneously, Arco was standing in the alleyway he had been watching the entrance from. There was an intense pain throughout his body as the fuel that sustained him was drained, and he dropped to his knees and vomited out a liter of black goo. It stained the earth beneath him, and a second later, started smoking as it evaporated away.

Fuck…

That was more than he expected. Of course, he had cheated Seir, and this was his punishment for doing so. He could feel the weight missing from his body, and dark thoughts flowed through his mind. Would he be needing to do this more? There was a risk. Did that mean he needed to refuel?

Probably.

Arco sighed.

He walked deeper into the alley, to a place where there weren’t any crowds. To where nobody would see him.

In those places were where other people who wanted to become invisible lived. Two bums were sharing a stale piece of bread, and as he walked into their tiny square of land, they shot him angry glares.

“Fuck outta here, faggot!”

“Yeh! This our bread!”

There people were fine.

Nobody would miss them.

Arco took a step towards the men, who were sitting. Before they could stand up, Arco’s foot shot out in a curve as he struck the man on the left’s nose with the iron toe of his boot. It totally busted the man’s nose and cracked his skull against the wall behind.

The sudden geyser of blood from his friend changed the other homeless man’s mind in an instant. Rather than fight, he just dropped down to his hands and knees and bowed.

“Please don’t kill me! Take my bread!”

Arco grabbed whatever hair was left on this man’s head and yanked him up to look him in the eyes.

“I am not going to kill you,” Arco said. “What I’m going to do is break both of your arms and legs in ways that will never recover. Then, I’m going to take a small knife and cut a hole in your stomach and drink your blood. You won’t die immediately, but unless you seek medical attention, which you can’t, you will die overnight in your sleep.”

The man stared in horror, trying to push away from Arco as best he could. But there was no contest. Arco was surprisingly strong underneath his baggy clothes.

“A-are you...a vampire?”

That made Arco smirk. A vampire during the day? Well, the man wasn’t totally wrong.

***

“Sorry about that,” Arco said, tying his hair back. “I’m...sorry. My bad.”

Holy shit. It was difficult for him to hold in his laughter, so he turned away from Max. He expected it, but there was some doubt in his mind. The fact that she was so desperate for him that she waited for almost two hours was hilarious. If she had left, he might have actually given her a modicum of respect. But no, just some dumb broad through and through. He had always been right.

“It’s fine,” she said. Turning her head away, Max handed him a bag. “Here. Take it.”

“What is it?”

“Your sandwich. I made sure nobody took it.”

“Jesus,” Arco said slowly, taking the food. Then he laughed. “You’re not even gonna ask what happened? Why I look like I got my ass kicked to sunday and back?”

She had to notice how shitty he looked. Whenever he used his blessing, it pained him physically. His skin would get pale and bruises would appear randomly over his body where fuel drained out of. Dark bags appeared under his eyes, and his fingernails darkened.

“No. You didn’t pry into my history, so I won’t pry into yours. That’s the fair thing to do.”

He sat next to her. Close enough for their legs to touch.

“Well, thanks. Also, thanks for staying and waiting to give me my lunch. I was actually really looking forward to it.”

“Guh, don’t thank me for anything. I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t remember where your house was. If I knew, I would’ve just gone there instead. Although I guess I’d just be waiting outside the door, then.”

“Ha. If that ever happens, don’t worry. I keep a spare key under the doormat.”

“Doesn’t that make it easy for someone to break in?”

“Sure. But what, are they gonna steal my broken tv?”

“Good point.”

It was too easy. He could do this on autopilot. She was eating up his words like they were the truth without even thinking about it. As Max stood, he smiled to himself. This was going to work perfectly. Scum like him was going to finally win.

“Time to go back, then?”

“Go back?” Arco raised an eyebrow. No, not yet. He needed her to stay with him until tonight. “Are you kidding? We’d miss some of the best sights in the city. Anyway, I need to treat you for saving this.” He shook his sandwich bag. He needed some way of exciting her.

“Are you sure? You’re all bloody…”

No, he didn’t need to excite her. She was going to do that all on her own. Without even thinking, Max reached out to touch the blood on Arco’s lip.

It was an accident that the blood was still there. That was from when he sucked those homeless men’s blood, and just forgot to clean it off his face. Or missed it when he tried. But with the way she pulled her hands away, embarrassed, and stared at the red dot on her fingers made him pause. He wiped it all away immediately.

For a moment, he thought that it would all be over. But then he realized it was the exact opposite. To her, such a touching and intimate moment was a way of chaining herself to him. A way of excusing his absence. How pathetic!

In his joy, Arco couldn’t help but do a standing backflip.

***

The plan was simple.

There was an alley nearby, and at 11, Lenore Vasquez was going to throw a bag of money into a dumpster marked by Arco’s sticker. Just a little before 11, Arco would temporarily leave the restaurant, just after saddling Max with a huge bill. He’d grab the money and leave. As much fun as it would be to see the fallout firsthand, it would spell his doom and give them a chance at retribution, which he wouldn’t be able to stand.

All he needed to do was keep a good attitude and enjoy his final night in the city of Paris. This was his favorite restaurant, and there was nothing that could go wrong.

That was, until everything did.

A car smashed through the side of the building only centimeters from Arco’s head, shattering glass everywhere, before spinning around and slamming into a wall across the street.