'Blood?'
'Why is there blood?'
Stark moved his head back and rubbed his nostrils for the second and third time before realizing that he could not move his legs.
Or rather, he couldn't feel them. Not at all.
He could make out the vague presence of his legs, but not feel them.
Such an uncanny, unnatural feeling...
However, just before this discovery of his would settle in...
...knees buckled, Stark fell on the wooden floor with a loud thud...
He drew out a sharp gasp, looked down on himself, and realized, with a shock, that Blood was still trickling down from his nostrils, tracing a thin line down his lips before dripping onto the wooden floor of the carriage.
His thin white shirt was now, dyed in crimson-red.
Stark sniffed, but the blood kept flowing steadily onto the wooden floor.
Stark looked at the droplets of the Dark crimson-red liquid trickling down from his nose, dazedly. Then, his left hand shot up, frantically wiping at the mess.
...Right hand followed, rubbing his nostrils, smearing the bloody warmth across his skin.
Over and over, as if he could, by wiping faster, stop the steady flow.
His head was starting to hurt, really badly.
Thump! Thump!
Head throbbing restlessly, Stark reeled back... clasping his head with both of his hands, not caring about what happens next...
But after a certain time, he realized the blood actually stopped falling as steadily as before. His headache slowly calmed down.
Now, however, His head was slowly starting to feel numb, and his vision blurry... he was swaying every so often as he fought to keep his consciousness intact.
Slowing down, Stark looked at the wooden floor smeared with crimson-red blood for a few fleeting moments. He, again, wiped off the blood from his face before moving to his side, thinking dazedly that he should wake Mr. Solomon.
He waited for a few long moments, looking at nothing in particular...
But after a certain time...
With clenched teeth, Stark was just about to stand up, but right at that moment...
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Barely audible whispers from before resounded once again alluringly, inside the wooden carriage...
Hearing them, Stark suddenly moved his head, sat down, looked at the wooden wall with his dark hollow eyes, and waited for a few moments before leaning his ears back on the wooden wall, trying to hear the whispers...
He strained to make out the whispers, to turn their vague murmur into something discernible.
As he thought of doing so...
He jolted upright and recoiled.
'What am I doing?! Did I not see what happened after I listened to them, those whispers, just a moment ago. What was I thinking?'
He looked at the wall, backed away, and was now lamenting about the lack of his...
...Wait, What was he lamenting about, again?
'Hah?'
Stark recoiled.
Shaking away his forgetfulness, Stark said dazedly, "What was I thinking about?"
'Uh... I don't remember...'
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
His eyes drifted back to the wooden wall, where the whispers were strongest.
He leaned in once again; only to jerk back, startled.
'What am I doing?! Hah?'
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Wait... What was he thinking? he needed to listen to the whispers, isn't that right?
Yes, that is right. Right indeed.
Wasn't it? Yes, it was.
But, Stark had a feeling he was forgetting something...
'Damn it.' He had forgotten what he had just forgotten.
'Forget it!!'
Shaking his head, stark thought he could think of that later. But, Right now…
He stared at the dark wooden wall for a few long moments silently before leaning in closer.
As he did, the whispers intensified, buzzing inside his skull.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
He listened And listened some more, Not realizing what he was doing, Not questioning why, Not knowing how long he had been at it.
The very concept of Time itself seemed to slip away from Stark's head.
Stark didn't know how much time had passed. However... he didn't care.
At that moment, All that mattered was hearing them; the Vague Whispers more clearly.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Somewhere along the way, Stark might have noticed dark liquid rolling out, trickling down from his ears. But he, for some reason, decided to ignore it.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Somewhere along the way, he might have felt his nose start bleeding, once again. But he ignored it.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Somewhere along the way, he might have felt tears welling in his eyes. But he ignored them.
He couldn't afford distractions. He had to listen.
He barely registered when those tears turned dark Crimson-red. But he did not care.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
Probably, Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed at the top of their lungs, but He ignored it.
Perhaps, it was him. But he didn't care.
Zawa-Zawa-Zawa-Zawa
After what felt like an eternity, a voice finally emerged...
"…is …ur …me?"
His breath hitched. He pressed his head harder against the wall, his mind emptying, his focus consumed by the voice.
"Wh… at… is… …ame?"
"Wha… s yo… r… name?"
"What is your name?"
His lips moved before he could think.
"Stark. Stark Arriate. My name is Stark Arriate."
Then abruptly, all of a sudden, The whispers stopped. Completely. And Abruptly.
In that abrupt stillness, Stark's heart started beating into a frantic rhythm, pounding in uneasy anticipation.
Ba-dump! Ba-dump!
Then after a certain time, The carriage shook as it was hit by something. It did not stop after once...
The carriage shook once Again. And then again. And another one after that. The force rattled the wooden walls, threatening to tear them apart.
As if something was trying to break through the carriage From the outside.
But Stark didn't move. He sat there, wide-eyed. Feeling Dazed.
Slowly, Stark, after a long while, lifted his right hand, trembling fingers touching his face.
Sticky. Warm. Wet.
His hands came away red, his face drenched in blood; his pale skin was even paler, his eyes tinted crimson, and his clothes soaked.
And as he looked down...
Only blood came into view, all around the ground near him.
Stark looks at the scene in front of him, blankly. Not moving a muscle, Only observing.
After a few long moments, Stark realized something, something really disturbing.
But to justify it he needed to confirm something.
Stark waited for a moment and looked sideways...
'The old clown, Mr. Solomon'
He stood up with all his might, straining every single inch of his body, and started walking, not looking back.
As he did, the aggressive shaking of the carriage stopped, and the faint whispers started to buzz once again.
Stark, this time, though, was not enthralled to listen to it because he was clasping his ears shut tight with both his hands.
He had realized what had made those whispers.
It was a Name eater. The creature steals people's names and memories and takes control of their bodies after killing them.
Miss. Sia told Stark about the creature on his first day. Mr. Shin, the mysterious man, had suspected Stark to be one of the name eaters vessels because he did not remember what his real name was.
The carriage was not steady, but some of the stuff set on the desks was spilled all around the place, making a messy scene.
Stark crouched down near Mr. Solomon and moved his body sideways...
As Stark did that, he realized that there was no resistance coming from Mr. Solomon or his rather 'his body'.
He looked at Mr. Solomon's lifeless eyes for a few long moments with regret and assessed the situation.
'The whispers... I understand
Stark looked back at himself, then the wall where the whisper was the strongest,, and slowly addressed the situation he was in.
"It's the Name Eater. The creature that Mr. Shin was talking about, back then. The creature that steals people's name..."
."