Written in roughly ten minutes as part of an exercise thing. I like it a great deal, hence the posting...it's the shortest thing I've ever felt so proud of. I suspect that the main character is Rayce, largely because of the mention of Greek gods, but...I dunno. I'm not going to go into much detail here.

It was cold. It was cold, and dark, and silent. Periodically, said silence was broken by a wet footstep or the sound of tiny drops of rain splashing down on concrete and cardboard and pipes. Such sounds were hardly unusual to the young man, given his take on life and his inability to stay out of trouble for long.

There was an odd factor this time, much to his chagrin. It hardly meant much; just a small wound, an injury, little more than a scrape. He'd be fine. He always was. Thanatos turned a blind eye to his existence, and Tyche continuously blessed him with luck worthy of the Devil.

A lack of common sense always proved to be the real force behind his continued survival.

"Nothing can kill me. Nothing can and nothing ever will. Why would anything bad happen to me?"

Wounds weren't bad. A bullet to the shoulder, a knife to the thigh, maybe a bottle cracking down on some unprotected bit of flesh--it all came with life. It proved that he was still deliciously alive. Nothing would ever be too severe for him to bounce back, and it would leave him a little more indestructable than before.

The footsteps grew louder as the puddles increased in size. Maybe a few more twists and turns through the alleys, and it'd be over. He'd be done, and he could go home and recover and take a shower. A nice shower. Or, perhaps, a bubble bath.

A shadow rose and fell in the distance. No sound accompanied it, but that meant nothing. The sight proved to be all he needed, and a moment later--one tiny moment, lasting weeks and months and years--they were staring each other in the eye.

Once more, all was quiet except for the rain and their ragged breathing. It was over. It was all over.

"Bang," the man with the gun said, lifting his arm and the weapon with some effort. The bullet he'd received earlier would have to be removed relatively soon. "And it's all over..."

The corpse fell to the ground as blood and bits of skull leaked out of the hole in the back of his head. It was another job well done. The chase, the fear, the pain...it felt great.

That bubble bath, however? It would be so much better.