Down Goes The Devil

Chapter 9

After finalizing his initial plan of action, Ethan went on to capture his next prey. Chris, his second victim, was the guy who bullied him during his highschool years. As he thought about him, he found himself in a sloppy, disorganized room. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, cigarette butts clumped in an ashtray that was placed on the nightstand, and a half-full bottle of wine placed next to the bed. He looked at the desk, and there he was, the rascal himself, sitting on his swivel chair, playing games on his computer. His frizzy hair seemed as it has not been combed in weeks, and his eyes were bloodshot from staring at the screen for god-knows how long.

For starters, the devil wanted to get a glimpse of his current lifestyle, so he gave him a sweet little pat on the shoulder, absorbing his deepest secrets and darkest desires. Chris was unemployed, still living with his mother, never ceasing to disappoint her day after day by being trapped in his room all day playing games instead of looking for a job and turning his life around.

Chris was in pain, deeply regretful of letting his mother down by not turning out to be the successful man that he aspired to be as a child. This man has been stricken by Karma, as he was despised by everyone at university a few years ago. He tried to pull out the same tricks that he had pulled during highschool, and attempted to bully his colleague at university. Unfortunately, he got called out for his callousness, and ended up being the underdog at his own little game, by losing his friends, and being separated from the only girl he has ever loved. He was a misfit, despised by everyone around him, and it took him a long time to come to the realization that he needed to blend in with his surroundings despite everyone's differences, but it was too late for him to redeem himself, as word got out that he was a measly bully.

He had no sense of discernment, and it eventually backfired. Later on, as he grew up, he developed an excruciating social anxiety. His helplessness felt like a chronic illness that could never be cured, and he kept on panhandling for a little motivation and hope. He had so many questions that he could not find the answer to, and he had so many desires that he could not fulfill out of fear and anxiety. He wanted to break free from all responsibilities and he had a yearning desire for the days when he was simply careless. He felt alienated, and he did not fit in his environment.

In a blink of an eye, all his beliefs have gone with the wind, and he felt like everything around him was made up. He no longer had the power that he once exerted on others. Ethan could sense that he had a void inside of his heart that could not be filled by anything other than regret and self-accusation. That serves him right.

As he was immersed in his own little fantasy, trying to gain a sense of accomplishment from a world that is nothing but a mere reverie, his mother walked in on him. He never took his headset off even though he was well aware of her presence, for he knew for a fact that she would berate him for being confined between four walls, avoidant of reality, not speaking to anyone and not even trying to see the light of day by opening his grimy window to let a few sunrays in.

"Chris, would you like to have lunch?" She asked, already awaiting the same old answer, but still hoping that this time would be different.

"No" he hissed at her, waiting for her to go away.

"You haven't eaten a thing for two days Chris. This is getting out of hand. When are you planning to leave your rusty room and face the real world? Are you content with your current life?" She grumbled, feeling weary of seeing her son in such state. Chris did not answer, and his eyes never wandered from the bright screen in front of him. He wanted to numb his senses and bury his awareness to escape the harshness of the outside world. He knew that once he shuts down his computer, he would be overwhelmed by sadness; sadness for being lonely, and for never amounting to his mother's ambitions and faith in him. He let the tragedies accumulate continuously until he could not bear the burden anymore. He felt exhausted and he needed a break. That grueling feeling has gotten the best of him, until it has turned into a ghost that followed him everywhere he went.

"Would you at least book your next appointment with your therapist?" His mother asked softly.

"It's due tomorrow. Would you get off my case now?" He groaned, while eyeing her menacingly.

As soon as he answered, his mother left his room quietly. Upon realizing how forlorn her tone was, he took off his headset, slumped against his chair, and stared at his empty hands, as if he was staring at the sweat, blood and tears that his mother has poured into raising him to be a happy man.

Happiness, It has been a while since he has felt utter pure happiness. He did not know how it actually felt like anymore. Whenever he felt the slightest surge of joy whenever he wins a game, it felt as if he was veneering the gloom that has been coating his heart. At times He would get an intense rush of mania, feeling energetic and feeling as if he owns the world, as if he was able to achieve anything he has ever desired. He would get manic for a short while, and then he would get back again to his self-deprecating state, for he had such an unbalanced humor. Happiness has eventually become something spooky, for it somehow meant that it was going to be over ultimately. It was supposed to be something positive, something good. It was supposed to be something innocuous, but his twisted mind has turned it into something sinister, something wicked.

At that moment, Chris was already thinking about the friends that he has lost, yet he was too embarrassed to reach out to them, fearing that he might come across as desperate. That's my cue.

Reach out to them.

Ethan could see that his face has contorted as he grabbed his phone swiftly, his heart beating out of his chest, afraid of being rejected. Send out the message, Chris. With shaking hands, Chris typed numerous texts and deleted them, trying to come up with the perfect text message. He eventually settled for : "Hi Fred. Long time no see. This is Chris, from uni. Can I please talk to you about something important? I apologize for the inconvenience."

Chris spent the next two hours fretting about the text message that he sent, already picturing the worst case scenarios. If Fred would say anything that is minutely blunt or inconsiderate, Chris would lose his mind. Seeing him covered in cold sweat over texting an old friend was such a pleasant sight for Ethan. He deserves it. None of his targets deserved being abused and discriminated, including Ethan himself, no matter how strange or freaky they were. Following the two-hour panic attack that this man had, he has decided to take a nap, and Ethan grew fatigued watching him walk in circles like a deranged man. At that point, he knew that going back to hell for a short while would be much better than whatever this purposeless conundrum was.