The Highway To Hell

Jack awoke in the forest with a frustrated sigh, sat up and impatiently collected Ripper. He wished it would just appear in his hand when he came back to life. The repetitive action made him feel like a slave, and for some reason, it really bothered him. 

"Jack?" 

Jack replied instantly, without even attempting to turn around and sounding frustrated. "What." His deep voice still unnerved the stalker, but after a few moments, they seemed to relax. 

"I see... so we're getting somewhere." 

Jack's ears twitched. "What do you mean?" 

"I'm the one asking questions. How long have you been here?" 

"Where is here, exactly?" asked Jack, ignoring the stalker on purpose. 

"No memories? A pity... Change of question. How many times have I killed you with this arrow?" 

Jack decided to humour him. And himself. "Twice. The last one missed." 

"I don't miss." 

"Tsk." 

"Then how did you die?" 

"I charged you. Would have killed you if your arrow hadn't turned me into a pincushion." 

The stalker smirked. "The gifts have their uses." 

A composing breath left Jack's mouth. Every time the stalker spoke, Jack had more questions. And it didn't seem like he was going to get answers for any of them. "Then what do you want?" he asked. "You must be able to answer that question." 

It was a solid question, and the stalker must have thought so too. "I need your blessing," he said eventually. 

"My blessing?" Jack chuckled, almost manically while still facing away from the stalker. 

"This is The Highway to Hell. We're all sinners here. Since your memories were taken from you, I guess I should explain." 

"Why now?" said Jack, losing his humour and raising his voice slightly. "Why kill me before?" 

"I don't remember killing you. Your resurrections are your own. As are mine." 

Jack wanted to ask another question but steeled himself. He was slowly realising that sometimes it was better to pretend he knew more than he really did. 

"There's a near infinite number of alternate paths and realities on The Highway. I have my own assumptions as to why I killed you before and why I haven't this time around. But that isn't important. What's important is you giving me your blessing." 

"And I'm going to assume you're about to tell me why?" said Jack, his loss of patience evident in the drone of his voice. 

The stalker sighed, a short outbreath beneath his hood. "...I cannot kill my Emberwood," he said, over proudly as if to hide an underlying embarrassment. 

"I assume you mean the tree... I hate to think there's more than one." 

"Yes. And there is. Everyone who crosses the same lane, or realm, on The Highway have their own Essence Bearers to slay. It's how we advance to the next Lane." The stalker then noticed the gem in Jack's hand. "What's with the stone? Did you get it from the Emberwood?" 

"Why? Are you robbing me?" 

"It won't work for me," explained the stalker. "Fragments of essence are bound to our souls. Same with our weapons; like that sword you're holding." 

"They belonged to us when we were alive, didn't they?" 

"The weapons, yes. The gifts are only manifestations." 

Jack half rose Ripper and silently read the runic engraving on its side. "I could tell this sword was mine from the moment I laid eyes on it." 

The stalker thought for a moment, then relaxed the slight tension they'd been holding on their bowstring and lowered his aim, but not completely. 

Jack peered over his shoulder. "Does that mean we're friends now?" he said in half jest. 

"It means I trust you not to kill me in excruciatingly painful ways until I turn into the very things we're trying to kill." 

Jack rose a single, bushy eyebrow. 

"It happens," they confirmed. "Your inner fears, regrets, and sins shape your body into that of a beast: an essence bearer. By killing one, you have gained favour with the gods, bastards, and can ascend to a lane that leads closer to Hell." 

"Why wou-" The stalker rudely interjected. 

"Why would anyone want to get closer to Hell? Why do you think? You've seen what this place does. What it is. Imagine being stuck here for a millennium... most have been here longer. You're a clever soul; you'll figure it out." 

Jack turned, and this time, the stalker didn't stop him. 

Under their hood, a thin, clean-shaven chin protruded. Just like their voice, it was almost feminine. His eyes were an abnormally sharp green, shimmering under the shadow of their hooded cloak, and ever watchful beneath his eyelids. They removed a shirt and a pair of brown leather trousers from a small backpack and threw them to the almost naked soul. 

"Thanks..." said Jack, slightly confused, but he accepted the gesture anyway. "What's your name?" 

"Kane." 

"And this talk of a blessing?" Jack pulled the shirt over himself and buttoned it as he spoke. 

"With your blessing, a pact, if you will, I may ascend the highway with you." 

Jack thought for a short moment. "And why wou-" Kane interrupted him again, but Jack stalled his annoyance. 

"There will come a time, and there will come a time, Jack, where you will face a bearer of essence too well suited to counter your way of battle. The Emberwood was mine, the next Highway may contain yours. And then you'll have two choices. You wait, as I have, and find a suitable soul with the skills needed to assist you. Or go insane and become those we seek to destroy. But choose the wrong ally, and you will suffer for their mistakes." 

"Is that why you killed me?" asked Jack, bitterly, pulling on the leather chaps he had been given before placing the gem he was holding into a satchel attached to them and moved to lean on a nearby tree. 

"I probably killed you to make sure you weren't a hot-headed prick. You tried to kill me once. It failed. You didn't try again. That was smart and is probably why you're still alive." 

"What happens to the Kanes that I leave behind in my previous lives?" 

"They carry on. They continue to exist until one of our realities reaches the end of The Highway. There's a near infinite number of realities, but only one instance of our soul need reaches the entrance to Hell." 

Jack shook his head in disbelief, his arms crossed as he leant against a leafless tree. "That makes no sense... I can only perceive this reality. How can my soul be split onto an infinite number of lanes?" 

Kane's green eyes narrowed. "You think I understand the workings of gods? These are their grounds. And we are but their playthings." 

"You know more than I." 

"That begs another question, but I believe I know the answer. The Emberwood was your first Essence Bearer, correct?" 

"It was," droned Jack, growing tired of the back-and-forth questioning. 

"Then, if you're ready." Kane lowered his bow completely and retreated it to his side, offering his right hand to Jack. 

Jack bore through his outstretched palm with eyes of hard brown but soon pushed off the tree he had been leaning against and took Kane's hand with a loud slap. They didn't shake, the souls simply deadlocked their gazes. 

"How does this work?" Jack asked. 

Now Jack was up close, he could see Kane's weapon properly. A short bow. It was made of a bright brown wood with a light metal grip. Burnt engravings of crows flew up and down its length, and the bowstring was a dull silver. 

"We must find the rift. A crack in space suspended in the air somewhere on The Highway." 

Jack rose a brow. "Somewhere, on The Highway..." 

"Time is something we are in abundance of, Jack..." said Kane, and he turned on his heel. "Come."