A small dark hut, located right on the edge of a cliff.
His hands and feet were wrapped in some kind of steel thread. He was tied to a chair.
And although the wound on his back was no longer bleeding and did not seem to bother him anymore...
He had been beaten to a bloody pulp.
His hair barely reached his ears and was gray in color. Remarkably, there were small flashes of pure black at the roots of his curls.
Many would call this shade ash... But it looked more like the hair had been stripped of color. The same could be said about his eyes. They were a dull blue, clearly resembling gray.
It seemed that his skin, like everything else, lacked color.
Lost from color — that was the best way to describe him. Nobody — that was what he called himself.
He seemed broken and barely understood what was happening. His mind couldn't accept the reality of the situation. He needed help.
*Crunch!* One blow from a steel glove turned his knee into a bloody mess of torn muscles and broken bones.
The consciousness awoke with...
"AAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
*Crushh!* A second blow turned his lips to mush and caused half of his teeth to crack and fly apart.
"Hush, hush, little pig, they're not roasting you yet, so there's no need to squeal..."
The old man who had struck the blows stuck his fingers into the torn mouth and grabbed his tongue.
"...!!!"
His throat was seized by spasms. Sharp pieces of broken teeth penetrated inside and cut him from within.
He tried to suppress his screams, turning the sound from his mouth into something like a squeak. It sounded very much like a pig's squeal.
His mouth was filled with blood, but he couldn't even spit it out.
He could suppress his cries, but he couldn't stop the flow of tears.
"Let me tell you a story..." the old man began. "A little pig lived with his brothers in a wonderful zoo. Their home was excellent — the best that could be offered to creatures like them... But its owner was too noble and kind to dirty animals. The little pig and his brothers came up with a cunning plan. They decided to escape from the zoo and go to find something that would hurt the owner — a bold, unforgivable insult."
"...?!!!"
He sobbed with his eyes wide open and let out a terribly painful squeal. He looked straight at the old man who was holding his tongue.
"Somehow, they succeeded. They escaped and hid deep underground. Where the zoo owner couldn't see them... But one day, the little pig woke up and saw that his brothers had been torn to pieces. The pigs didn't know that the land outside the zoo walls was wild. They fell prey to passing animals..."
"Kh-khp-pff..."
"Hush, Hush, little one, you haven't heard the end of the story yet..."
The old man squeezed and almost crushed his tongue, causing the flow of tears and blood in the captive's eyes to intensify.
"The little pig cried and squealed. He was left all alone in the world... He wished he had died with them! And then he started to run. He ran — through forests, fields, mountains… The piggy ran and ran in the hope of finding a beast that would end his suffering."
He didn't understand what this crazy old man was talking about. He didn't understand the metaphors, the context, or the obvious hints in this story.
"..." All he felt was excruciating pain and the gradual madness of his own mind.
"...At that moment, the piggy began to miss the zoo he had betrayed. The little pig was stupid and didn't understand that the cage he lived in was not a prison, but a shield. The zoo cage was a home where he was happy with his brothers."
The old man's face contorted with disgust and contempt.
"...But pigs are stupid, dirty, ignorant, and greedy animals. By their actions, they insulted the zoo employees who loved them very much, and there was no forgiveness to be found."
The old man released the man's tongue and approached his face.
"Bh-bha..." Blood spilled from his ruined mouth.
Some of it splattered onto the old man's face and mustache, but this only seemed to intensify the fire in his mechanical eyes.
"However, before the little pig met its desired end, it encountered an old wolf — one of the zoo's keepers — who had gone searching for him…"
The man, known as Mr. Nobody, looked him straight in the eye. His mind was ready to explode with horror, pain, and an endless stream of chaos.
"But the wolf was too kind, and also somewhat similar to this small and dirty pig. He did not kill the little pig. Instead… he gave him far more than he should have." An excited smile lit up the old man's face. "The wolf took pity on the little pig who had lost his brothers and said to him, 'I will save you from loneliness.' "
He couldn't help himself.
"Bwah...!" He vomited blood right onto the old man's face and clean white shirt.
While he was trying to cough up the bloody lump in his throat, the old man grabbed his head and pressed it against his forehead.
The steel gloves squeezed his head so hard that it almost made his eyeballs pop out of their sockets.
The old man pressed his face against his and began to whisper.
"You are my little piggy… mine. And I promise — I will take your loneliness away."
"?!!!"
Death by beast or grinder now felt merciful.
...
Behind the old man stood a woman and a man dressed in formal suits. They watched without emotion.
And yet, when the prisoner was on the verge of breaking, and his mouth was already foaming, the woman gave the signal to stop.
"Mine..." whispered the old man at the end.
He kept his toothy smile, but let go of the prisoner's head and stepped away.
"..." A man standing behind him silently opened a large suitcase.
Inside were three fresh corpses of black, squirrel-like creatures and two rat corpses.
He grabbed one of the squirrels by the scruff of its neck and approached the captive.
He squeezed the corpse like a rag. The bones cracked, the eyes popped out of their sockets, and blood spilled out.
However, the red liquid did not rush to fall to the ground. It gathered near the man's hand and changed color to bright blue, resembling some kind of energy.
Then the man directed the blue stream at the captive.
The shattered knee knitted itself back together, teeth grew back, and the lips no longer resembled crumpled fabric.
"W-whaaa...!" Pain tore through him. The shattered knee knitted itself back together, teeth grew back, and the lips no longer resembled crumpled fabric.
After a while, only a couple of abrasions remained, but nothing critical. The body was like new and ready to endure a new wave of pain.
This sense of what awaited him was deeply depressing, and he didn't even know why he was being tortured.
His vision was no longer blurred, and the redness in front of his eyes had decreased slightly.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, he shouted.
"W-wait! I don't know who you think I am, but you're wrong!"
"..."
His cry elicited no particular reaction from either the woman or the man. Only the old man's smile became even more satisfied.
"I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING!!!" He caught his breath a little. "...I w-woke up in that pit with no memories at all... I have nothing to do with those corpses! I don't even look like them!!! Please, wait..."
"****** spawn," the woman said barely audibly.
'What? What did she say?'
The language and the word were familiar. Not English, Spanish, or Chinese, but it seemed...
'Italian? She said... Partisan spawn?'
This realization made his heart sink. They didn't believe him.
"What do you think?" the woman asked her companions calmly.
The prisoner listened desperately to their answers, searching for even the slightest glimmer of hope.
"It's... strange. There's something off about him. Duality," replied the blue-eyed man, frowning.
This answer made his heart believe in a tiny chance of salvation. However, the woman then turned to the old man.
"Dum?"
"He looks like a typical huckster. These pigs all look the same to me."
'No... no, no, no.'
The woman simply nodded in response. Then it was her turn to approach the prisoner.
And although her appearance could easily drive one crazy... she felt worse than the old man.
"Before you answer, know that every lie will cost you more and more."
She placed two fingers on the prisoner's neck, and her violet eyes stared straight into his gray ones.
"Who showed you the way to the Pit? What exactly were you looking for here?"
"I don't..."
"Was it a broker? One of the dealers? Is Schrodinger involved?"
"W-what... Cat? Listen, I really... I've never even heard any of those names!" he cried out in panic, unable to contain himself.
It was clearly becoming more difficult to speak.
"..."
"P-p-please believe me..." he whispered hoarsely.
For some reason, his throat barely obeyed him anymore.
The woman removed her fingers and stood in front of him.
"How are you connected to the Partisans of Darkness?"
He could no longer speak.
"..." He shook his head and looked at the woman with tears in his eyes.
The expression on his face literally said that he was begging her to believe him... or at least to spare him.
She nodded and accepted his answer.
Then she pointed her index and middle fingers at his neck and brought them together.
In an instant, his throat and neck swelled up like a balloon...
And then it began to melt, turning his flesh into a black, charred mush.
"...!!!!!!!!!!!"
He learned what it meant to be burned from the inside — unable even to scream.
Lesson 5: Fear not Solitude, but its absence.