END No. 1
Michael swiftly dodged to avoid the axe, scoffing, while Jack Junior retreated a few steps back, feeling quite daft. He had a transitory thought of defending his grandfather, yet he backed away until he bumped into a wall. Strangely enough, Jack Junior noticed that the wall was somewhat… different. Jack Jr. cast a glance at his slowly vanishing hand and, perplexed, pivoted back to the other two men in the room, their old rusty axes resting on the ground along with previously unnoticed clumps of dirt.
"Please, I beg you, tell me what this place is!" the kid exclaimed.
"Jack, you must leave now. I do not want you to see the succeeding events." Jack Senior said, his voice lacking rigidity, yet very serious.
"Jack, do this; but, Jack, don’t do that. Well, guess what, Jack, you stay now." Michael bellowed; no one was actually sure which Jack he was referring to.
"Michael, let him go. Punishing my grandson for my wrongdoing is not a reliable way to undo the long-forgotten past."
"Long forgotten? It might be buried for you, but, counter wisely, the past is still very much alive to me. It was you who deceived me and confined me here. For centuries, I have endured unbearable loneliness." Michael said, and after a long pause continued, "And after all this time, while you’ve forgotten, I remember everything. The time has come for you to pay!" saying this, Michael glanced at the slowly fading Jack Junior.
Yet Jack Jr. wasn’t as concerned with his gradual destruction as he was intent on recognizing the unprecedented feeling of strangeness. It was not only the walls that differed from the original attic, but everything: the floor was covered in dust, which wasn’t there before, there was a new peculiar painting on the wall alongside flecks of mould. He reached out his hand towards the wall… It was then when Jack Junior felt his legs, or, rather, the absence of them, and collapsed to the ground. The grandfather hurtled towards him and knelt down, witnessing the lasts of his grandson evanesce.