"The baffled king composing Hallelujah"—Leonard Cohen.

  It had been a few hours since dawn broke, and I saw a small village burrowed in between lush green mountains. A great forest surrounded most of the village, and between the dirt road and the village were wide-open flower fields. The reason I entered the village was that the houses looked like hobbit holes. I always wanted to live in the countryside, in a hobbit hole. I hid my bike and walked into town. The village was quiet—too quiet; it bothered me, and there was a strong reek of death in the air. I took a swig from my flask. I decided to pull out my gun and ready myself for combat. The sounds of fallen leaves rustling and the smell of sweat came across my nose.

  An arrow flew overhead. I started firing. Missed. Shit.

  15 rounds left. An unknown number of combatants.

  There were commands being given out, and sounds of quick feet began to surround my position.

  Hooded people started to pull both long and short swords out. Arrows continued to fire at me, getting closer and closer.

  Gun in my left, knife in my right. The sound of my gun cracked through the air. The flash of my knife tried to split the steel before it shattered me. I didn’t feel like killing indiscriminately. When the hoods moved in closer, I used my knife to steal a short sword that I knocked out of one of their hands.

  The clash of steel lit up my surroundings. One blade skinned my arm, and another grazed my side. Blood soaked through my suit, staining my coat.

  The commander started to yell about something I couldn’t understand. The hoods damn near overwhelmed me when I finally understood what he was saying.

  “What did you do to my people, you son of a bitch?” the man said.

  “What?” I said.

  “Your kind took my people, and you dare to come back here like nothing happened!”

  His sword tried to strike me down, and I pulled my knife to parry.

  “So what do you think? Every human being is tied to each other. The only things I've been doing are sleeping, drinking, and driving. Sometimes drinking and driving.”

  “Why would some random human appear only days after humans raided our home, took our women and children, and burned our homes?”

  “I just came here to see the hobbit holes.”

  “What the FUCK is a hobbit hole!”

  He was able to strike my leg this time.

  “It's a home that is built into a hill. I thought the houses looked nice and wanted to see if there was a blacksmith here.”

  “You're saying that you are not one of the hoodlums who attack us?” the man said.

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  “YES,” I yelled.

  “Why should I trust men? All they do is lie and kill us.”

  “Well, I am no man; I’m the devil himself, and I promise to save your people.”

  “What reason would you have to do such?”

  “I just have a vendetta against injustice; it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.”

  “ Stand down. This man seems sincere.” He pulled down his hood, and others did the same, revealing pointy ears; others had tails or animal-like features. There were also small, hairy folk—same old shit as always.

  “I would like to discuss a matter with you, human,” the man said.

  “Sure, and call me V.”

  We walked to a place that looked like a tiki room. The room was full of smoke, and 4 people sat on one side of the room. An old dwarf and an elf were the only ones smoking pipes. There was a dragon lady and a man who seemed to be in his 60s with a cane across his lap, with a large scar across his left eye. The old man was smoking cigarettes that looked like he must have rolled them himself, and he looked Japanese.

  “Who have you brought us, Faelon?” said the old Japanese man.

  “Mr. Kashiwagi, I brought a man here who may be able to help with the raid tonight,” said Faelon.

  “How could this man possibly help us?” said the dragon lady.

  “Miss Saphira, this man fought off dozens of people, and he doesn’t seem to have any magical powers.“ Faelon said.

  “I don’t see anything wrong with this man joining the raid. Do you two have anything to add to this conversation? Are you just going to smoke until your lungs collapse?” Osamu, the old Japanese man, said.

  “I don’t care,” The old dwarf with the long beard said.

  “Cathal’s right; if he can fight, then why shouldn’t we let him join?” The old Elf said.

  “Thank you, Zeitgeist.” Said Cathal. I decided to light one of the 18 cigs I had left.

  “You smoke, too, kid,” Osamu said.

  “I try not to, but I’m already dead, so it doesn’t matter. You've got a good blacksmith in this town.” I said.

  “Yeah, you're talking to him right now. What do you want, kid?” said Cathal.

  “I wanted to increase my firepower and refill my equipment,” I said.

  “Ok, meet me at my store, and I’ll see if I can help you,” Cathal said.

  The meeting wrapped up after that. Faelon and I left through the front, and the four olds just disappeared into the back. Half of my cigarette dangled from my lips when I asked Faelon a question.

  “Am I going to get anything out of helping you?” I asked.

  “You will be paid, and you are allowed to keep any treasures or money you find,” Faelon replied…

  Faelon was called over by another elf, so I started to walk around. The only thing I could smell was the smoke coming from my cig, and all around were bushes and grass with trees. I saw people just walking around, children running around, families laughing, and people loving. All their smiling faces…

  And there's me—the Devil. The reaper of damn, a man without meaning. I've seen more families chopped apart than having fun in this world.

  I just hoped Miyamoto, Celeste, and the Kid were able to have times like these families. I got a melancholic feeling from it all. Was it because of how normal these raids were that these people were able to bounce back, or was it just remembering the past?

  “I see friends shaking hands, saying, "How do you do?" They're really saying, "I love you." I hear babies cry, I watch them grow, and I think to myself, What a wonderful world." - Louis Armstrong

  I think I once executed a man with this song playing in the background.

  After walking for a while, I found a blacksmith shop, wondering if this was the shop the dwarf brought me to. I knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” a voice said. I walked into the room smelling of ash. Smoke hung throughout this town, almost like a beast and its prey.

  “Ah, you, that guy from before, what do you want?” Cathal said.

  I pulled out the blueprints I'd been working on for the shotgun and my second pistol and gave them to him.

  “Well, in all my years, I have never seen things like this before.”

  I handed him my pistol and a loaded magazine. I felt like a samurai giving up his sword.

  “I thought if you were able to see something in real life, it would be easier for you.”

  “Well, kid, I should be able to make what you need, but it will cost you,”

  I pulled out all the money I had on me and said,

  “Here is everything I have, and I give you everything I get from the raid, and that also includes all weapons.”

  “That should cover the cost, but it will take me a bit to finish this shotgun, as you call it. I will be able to finish your pistol before the raid tonight. I’ll just need the original thing to make it the way you want it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, pick it up around late noon; it should be ready.”

  I waved goodbye and left. I felt naked without my gun on me. It was only mid-morning; I had time to kill because the raid would start at dusk. My hair has grown, and so has my beard. My time in this world has been long and tiresome. It showed me just how far I would go to stay alive. I took a swig from my flask and sat on a rock. 17 cigarettes left and 68 bullets with 4 magazines in total.