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Torbek hit the ground alongside his opponent, the black blood coating his maw. The rush of victory was short but sweet as he turned to face his friends.
The first one he saw was Morning Frost. His robes were spotless, and his face was serene. His neck was bent at an odd angle, the handprints of an orc on either side of his face. His hollow eyes stared unblinkingly at Torbek.
Behind him was Kremy. Stooped over Gideon's supine body, the lizardfolk had his hands clutched to his chest. The javelin piercing his stomach and the genasi's chest creaked under the weight of two bodies.
Gricko was harder to spot. He was almost entirely obscured by Hootsie, her feathers and fur giving her nearly perfect camouflage. As Torbek drew closer, a dread-hole opened up in his stomach and began to eat away at him.
Gricko's face was sticky with tears, his hair matted with snot and blood. A broken ocarina lay beside his head.
Over him sat Hootsie, her face buried in his exposed chest. The dent left by a warhammer marred the back of her head.
"T- ah," Torbek heaved, his wobbly knees nearly giving out underneath him. His stomach flipped as it slid into the dread-hole's reach. "No, no, no," Torbek mumbled. "This isn't- you can't-"
He scrambled back until the canisters on his back hit the unmoving girth of a tree. The bodies of his friends lay among the bodies of his enemies. Their blood intermingled until Torbek could no longer tell them apart.
The sun set and rose before Torbek moved again. When he did, it was to scream and throw his fists against the ground.
"WHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHYWHY!" He shrieked, curled over and shaking. "TORBEK WAS SUPPOSED TO HELP!"
He clawed at his arm, at the tube that dipped in and out of his skin. The motion did nothing but send a bolt of agony through his body. He screamed once more, then let his face fall into the dirt.
"You were supposed to help," he croaked. Something flickered in the backroom of his brain.
My job is not to protect your friends, little one.
"Y- you protected them," Torbek said, voice trembling. "With the rabbits, before."
My job is to eliminate threats to this body. You are alive, aren't you?
"Torbek wish-" Torbek's throat closed up, keeping the thought unspoken. "Why are you talking to Torbek?"
I want to help you.
"You hate Torbek. You want Torbek gone."
I can't have a change of heart?
"Torbek isn't that lucky."
A breezelike sensation echoed through Torbek's mind, as if the Other was heaving a great sigh. The voice said nothing.
Silence once again echoed through the clearing. After a moment, Torbek struggled to his feet and began to dig.
--- --- ---
Are you ready to listen?
Torbek flinched. A handful of dirt fell into the hole. He opened his fist, then closed it again. He scooped up another handful of dirt and dropped it into the grave. The dread-hole grew a little bigger.
I could help you, Torbek.
"Torbek doesn't want your help," the bugbear croaked.
Don't be that way.
"Don't-" Torbek paused, swallowing hard. "Please stop."
The voice fell silent once again.
--- --- ---
I know you're hurting.
"All of Torbek's friends are dead," Torbek said dully. He flicked his fingers, and the crumbling stone under his nails flew into nowhere. "Of course Torbek is hurting."
I could make it go away.
Torbek paused, the nail of his index finger imbedded in the surface of a boulder. "What do you mean," he said slowly.
If I took over-
"No no no no," Torbek chanted, covering his ears with his hands. "Torbek won't won't won't won't-"
Will you listen to me?
"NO," Torbek shouted. "You hurt Torbek's friends!"
I can't hurt them anymore, can I?
Torbek looked over to the mound of dirt that covered the bodies of his friends. "You... You will hurt other people," he said slowly.
I was made to protect this body, Torbek. I was made to protect you. Why would I want to hurt anyone else?
"My friends-"
Your friends turned you over. They hurt you. They were a threat to your body. I did my job.
"Torbek's friends-" Torbek began. His voice cracked, then shattered. The dread-hole grabbed at his heart as tears began to roll down his cheeks.
You don't have to hurt, Torbek. I can help you.
The clearing's silence was broken by a gravelly wail.
--- --- ---
Torbek sat on his haunches and stared at the massive mound of dirt, and the headstone that sat atop it. The dread-hole grew a bit more, its solitary heartbeat echoing through the silent forest.
"Torbek is..." Torbek wrapped his arms around his legs and tucked his face against his knees. The orcs' blood was now tacky, and his fur was becoming more matted by the second. "Torbek is... Tired."
Have you thought it over, then?
Torbek didn't answer immediately. When he did, his voice was wobbly. "Will Torbek..." His voice creaked, and he forced himself to swallow. "Will it hurt? It always hurt... before."
It feels like falling asleep. No pain, just rest.
Torbek thought about it. The stick figures carved into the boulder's surface smiled unflinchingly at him.
"Okay," Torbek said. He crawled over to the dirt pile and leaned against the boulder. His clawed hands began to shake. "Okay," he repeated in a whisper.
Okay. Close your eyes, little one.
Torbek obeyed. His limbs growing heavy and his head turning to air, Torbek felt a deep sleep wash over him.
As Torbek slipped into a dream, he heard a voice calling, omnipresent and indescribable. The blare of a saxophone echoed down a tunnel, and he followed it into the light.