The old man stood in silence for a moment, his face showing nothing. Then, he spoke, his voice soft, almost sad. "Perhaps you're right, Davies. Perhaps I am. But what choice did I have? The light left
me. It showed me only darkness. So, I took it in. I became the darkness. I became the tool of their judgment."
He pointed to the altar, the strange symbols carved into its surface seeming to glow with an eerie light. "The spirits they guide me. They show me who must be punished. They give me the strength to do their will."
Davies stared at the old man, his heart heavy with sadness. He had come looking for answers, looking for a way to stop the Hunter. But he had found something far more complex, far more frightening. He had found a man eaten by pain, a man who had turned his back on humanity and welcomed the darkness. And he knew, with a cold certainty, that this man, this tool of revenge, would not stop until he had carried out his twisted form of fairness, until he had cleaned the world of what he saw as evil. And Davies knew, with equal certainty, that he had to stop him, even if it meant facing the darkness that lived within the old man's soul.
The old man's words hung in the air, cold and firm. "Enough," he said, his voice echoing in the chamber. "You have seen what I am. You understand my purpose. Now… leave. This is not your place. This must be finished by my hand alone."
Davies hesitated. He was pulled in two directions. Part of him wanted to stay, to see whatever ritual, whatever act of revenge the old man was about to unleash. But another part of him, a wiser, more careful part, knew that he had stayed too long.
"You can't just end lives based on your pain," Davies said, his voice quiet but firm. "This isn't justice. It's simply more of the same cruelty."
The old man's head tilted, a shadow of a smile touching his lips. "Cruelty? Or a necessary balance? The world was sick, Davies. I am merely… the cure."
"A cure that kills the patient?" Davies countered, stepping slightly closer to the altar. "There's always another way. There's always a path to healing, even from the deepest wounds."
"Healing?" The old man scoffed, a dry, harsh sound. "The only healing is in letting go of the sickness entirely. And humanity, my dear Davies, is the sickness." His sightless eyes seemed to fix on Davies, a piercing intensity in their empty depths. "Don't mistake my grief for madness. My actions are born of clear sight, a vision you are too blind to comprehend."
"Or perhaps I see it too clearly," Davies retorted, his gaze sweeping over the unsettling artifacts around them. "A cycle of pain, endlessly repeating. You want to break it, but you're only fueling it."
"The cycle ends with me," the old man declared, his voice gaining a chilling strength. "It ends with the last echoes of their betrayal. Now, go. Before you become part of the cleansing."
The air in the chamber grew heavy, thick with unspoken threats.
Davies had seen too much, learned too much. He stood before something ancient, something powerful, something that went beyond human understanding. He was in great danger.
He looked at the old man, whose sightless eyes seemed fixed on a distant point, his face set in a grim mask of strong will. Davies knew that arguing was useless. The old man was beyond being reasoned with, eaten up by his pain, driven by his need for revenge. He had made his choice, and he would see it through, no matter the cost.
A Silent Farewell:
"Very well," Davies said, his voice heavy with a sense of giving up. "I'll leave. But know that I won't forget what I've seen here. I won't forget what you've done."
The old man didn't answer. He simply nodded, waving his hand to dismiss Davies. Davies turned and left the altar chamber, his heart pounding, his mind racing. He walked quickly, not daring to look back, not wanting to see whatever dark ritual the old man was about to perform.
He wasn't far from the settlement when he heard it. A crackling sound, growing louder, more intense. The sound of fire. Davies stopped, turning back towards the settlement. He saw flames leaping into the sky, eating up the buildings, lighting the night with an eerie glow. The old man was burning it all down. Himself included.
Davies watched in silence as the flames swallowed the settlement, the dark energy that had filled the area disappearing with the smoke. He knew that the old man had chosen his end, a final act of defiance, a way to make sure his revenge was complete, that the darkness he had welcomed would be put out along with him.
As the fire roared, a deep sense of loss washed over Davies. He had seen a tragedy, a life eaten by pain, a soul twisted by hate. He had seen the darkness hiding in the human heart, the power for both amazing cruelty and heartbreaking suffering.
The flames finally died down, leaving behind only smoking ruins. The old blind man was gone, his story ending in fire and ash. And with him, it seemed, went the cause of the terrible killings. The link between the dream world and the real world had been broken. The Hunter's tool was no more.
News of the fire spread fast through Zeni City. The police looked through the ruins, finding no trace of the old man's body. The official report said the fire was an accident, but Davies knew the truth. He knew the fire was no accident. It had been a cleaning, a making pure, a final act of revenge and self-destruction.
And with the old man's death, the nightmares stopped. The fear that had held the city began to fade, replaced by a shy sense of relief. People began to sleep soundly again, their dreams no longer bothered by the Hunter's evil presence. The city slowly began to heal, to get over the terrible time it had gone through. The people cheered, believing the nightmare was finally over. They were right. The nightmare was over.
The city was safe, for now.
The victory over Tero was bittersweet. The city breathed a collective sigh of relief.
But Davies knew that the darkness that had fed it, the pain and hate that had driven the old man's actions, still remained. It was a darkness that lived within the human heart, a darkness that could never truly be put out. And he knew that somewhere, in the shadows of the dream world, Tero the Hunter was waiting, taking his time, getting ready to return.
***********THE END**********