Signpost

He was tired. Could one man make the world a better place? There were days when he believed it, and days when he lost faith. He was only human. Strong, yet full of weaknesses. Sometimes, moments before embarking on another mission, he wondered what the point was, what good would it do? He answered himself that a beach wasn't just one stone, it was an infinite number of grains of sand. What did it matter to him to build this beach, to gather grain by grain? He walked through his city at night, his disability unnoticeable after dark. Blind at night. Irony. For him, twilight lasted 24 hours a day. At first, he couldn't come to terms with the fact that he would never again see the sun, the stars, and so many other beautiful things. But he quickly realized he could see it all in the dreams of the people he haunted. Only, he didn't always have time for it, oh well, that's how it is. He simply tried not to think about it. The mission was all that mattered. He was close now, he began to sniff around. I'm more like a hound than a Hunter, he thought. He was there. He sat down in a place that seemed relatively safe, relaxed. He flew away...

In his dreams, he saw things normally, and began to look around, a beautiful town, one of those you only see in dreams. After a few minutes, he found her, sitting on a park bench. He approached her and sat down without asking permission. She glanced at him briefly and returned to her work. She watched the people in the park, the strollers, and those spreading blankets on the lawns, enjoying a picnic. She was thinking intensely; he knew what was troubling her. He reached into his belt holster, pulled out a pistol, cocked it, and handed it to the girl.

"Shoot someone, anyone, there are so many people here, you have plenty of choices..."

"I don't understand who you are, go away or I'll call the police, I'll start screaming," she replied, looking at him with terrified eyes. He sighed

, "It's so easy, look how it's done." With that, he stood up, walked up to the first passerby, put the barrel to his head, and pulled the trigger. What had once been a human fell limply to the sidewalk... He approached a woman pushing a stroller, fired, and she fell. He aimed the gun at the baby in the stroller. His hand trembled, "This isn't happening," he told himself, and took aim... He holstered the gun, looked around, and the girl was running away. He caught up with her after a few moments, grabbed her hand, and said,

"Stop!" She stopped. She didn't even flinch. He thought he might have overdone it a bit, but it happens.

"Why are you running away, is it scaring you? You've been thinking about it for days. Here, in your dreams, you can experience what it's like to kill, because after all, nightmares don't die. Look, do you see her?" He pointed to a woman walking by with a stroller. "Didn't I just eliminate her? I think you should shoot her now, try it, taste the blood. Treat it as training, as a lesson for what's to come. Learn to kill; it will be much easier for you to make a decision." He knew she wouldn't do it; even in a dream, she couldn't look a man in the eye and pull the trigger in cold blood.

"So, what's it going to be like? Do you want to try?" He handed her the gun. She took it, looked at the deadly tool in her hand, and said,

"No, I couldn't; what I want to do is something completely different. What I carry inside me is only a fetus, an embryo devoid of feelings and thoughts, it's not a conscious human...

" "A swath of mindless flesh, I think that's what you mean." So you're approaching this like making a cutlet, maybe you're right... But if so, why are you even thinking about it? It's like making dinner, you grab a meat mallet, a piece of pork loin, and it's done. You don't have much time left, a few more days and it'll be too late, you know that. So instead of wasting time, maybe you should start chopping it up?

"It's not that simple...

" "Why? You said yourself that IT doesn't feel, doesn't think, in my opinion, there's nothing to ponder...

" "But I don't want that, I want to avoid it, I just don't know...

" "Okay, calm down, I'll try to be less cruel," he added, seeing the tears in her eyes. "At least I'll try," he thought. He dropped the gun and motioned for the girl to follow him. He led her through the winding streets; the city was truly beautiful. One of those places where you want to settle down and live a quiet life with your family. He pushed those dreams aside. The hunter knew that such a life wasn't for him. Peace and family—he had indeed once had such plans, but unfortunately, Destiny had chosen a different path for him, long before he entered adulthood. All that was left was to admire the views. The streets were full of color, the lawns and trees truly green, unencumbered by a layer of dust. The squares were bursting with color, and the scent of flowers wafted all around. Yes, such places can only be found in dreams, he thought ruefully. Their walk was slowly coming to an end; before them lay a large building surrounded by a playground. A kindergarten. The day was beautiful and sunny, so all the children were playing in the "garden," as that's what it's called in kindergarten slang.

"Here it is. Shall we sit on that bench?" he suggested. Without waiting for her approval, he took a seat on the edge of the bench, and after a moment, she sat down.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked. He ignored the question and began to observe the children playing. Little carefree creatures, so full of hope and joy. The future of the human world. Looking at them, he wondered how many of them would grow up to be engineers, doctors, teachers, workers, and how many would grow up to be criminals, alcoholics, and degenerates. The future was unknown to him. He shook himself out of his reverie and found the child he was looking for. He pointed him out to his companion.

"Look at that boy playing 'chaser,' look closely, because it's likely you'll see him for the last time." He fell silent

. "Is this my child? My son?" She wanted to say something else, but her voice failed her. Perhaps emotion or grief had robbed her. She began to sob quietly. The hunter faced a dilemma; he didn't really know whether the child should live or die before it was born. He had a peculiar approach to the matter. He didn't know the child's future, perhaps even better, because if he did, he would no longer be indifferent, and as it was, the boy was just a figment of his imagination, a nightmare; he simply didn't exist. Well, the choice wasn't his.

"Do you still want to kill him?" He reached for the gun. "If you do it now in the real world, it will be trivially simple, just like making tea." She didn't even glance at the black metallic object in his hand. She looked at the child for a moment, then shifted her gaze to her companion.

"Who are you, exactly? Why are you so afraid to distract me from the inevitable? You don't know me, you don't know what's inside me, the problems I'm struggling with, and besides, you wouldn't understand them anyway, so what right are you here telling me what to do? Tell me, who the hell are you?

" "Treat me as a signpost, a pole to which signs are nailed, pointing the way at a great crossroads, with countless paths. At the crossroads of life, because that's where you found yourself. " As for the rest of what you said, I know you better than you can imagine. I remember when you fell out of the tree and scraped your knee. You still have a tiny scar from that event. I remember your first day at school, I remember the writing on the desk you were sitting at, your first date, and many other events you've long since forgotten... I also remember your last vacation, the buzzing in your head, and the moment it happened," he added, pointing to her lower abdomen. "I'm like a mirror, I reflect all your thoughts, memories, fears... And then I show you several options from which you choose the one that suits you best

." "But who are you really? Are you a nightmare, a devil, an angel, some kind of force? What are you?"

"Right now, I'm nothing more than your dream, in reality I am..." - well, who or what am I? He thought, he'd never really known that himself. "I'm a human being, just like you, almost the same," he added. For a moment, they watched the children frolic in the kindergarten yard, silent. The Hunter knew the game had to go on; there was no time for downtime, for reflection. The night wasn't long enough, and sleep wasn't eternal.

"I hope you've seen enough of your son, his happiness and innocence, because we have to move on. There's still so much to see." They set off in a direction known only to him.

"Why do we have to go, after all, we're in a dream, can't we just teleport to the place we're going? You know, like teleporting?" The Hunter had to hold back a laugh, teleport? He'd actually seen a few movies where the main characters used this very means of transportation, but to him, it was simply ridiculous. Of course, he could instantly transport her to the right place; it was as simple as breathing; all he had to do was jump to the right point in her dream, and they would save themselves the walk. But he never did; he didn't like rushing. Now he just had to somehow defend himself against the idea.

"No, we can't. If we did, we might lose perspective somewhere along the way, so we'll move the oldest possible way, by foot. Besides, we're almost there anyway; look, that building over there." He pointed to the large school building. He took her hand and led her. They crossed the playground and entered the building. He led her through the corridors straight to the boys' restroom. Inside were several boys, surrounding one in a tight circle. It was his companion's son. At first glance, it was clear the group of kids were hostile towards him.

"So, where's your daddy? Still on a contract in the States? You're the son of a whore; you never had a father." How can Mommy still enjoy herself? - Children are cruel, thought the Hunter, clueless, they abuse those weaker than themselves, not even out of revenge or envy, they just do it for fun. The mother of the abused child wanted to get involved, to help her child, but he wouldn't let her.

- It's pointless, they can't see or hear you anyway, treat what you see like a 3D movie, it'll be better for you that way - he added. - Look, they've given up on him, they're bored with the game - indeed, the children were slowly leaving the toilet. After a moment, only one remained, spat on, humiliated, stripped of his dignity. Tears were streaming down his face, and he only allowed them when his tormentors had left. The Hunter knew what was going on in the boy's head. The child pulled a piece of strong string from his pocket and entered the cubicle.

"What does he want to do? What does he need that string for?" his companion asked. He didn't even look in her direction. Sometimes it's better to remain silent, or pretend you don't know. Besides, the woman's question was purely rhetorical; she knew exactly what her child intended to do. A moment later, a loud gasp came from behind the door, followed by a choking sound. Less than a minute later, there was no sound, silence. The woman ran to the door, tugged, but couldn't open it, as if something was blocking it from the inside. The hunter approached her, gently pushed it aside, and opened the door. The child was hanging on the doorknob, the remnants of tears drying on his cheeks. The mother looked at him, unable to say a word, unable to move.

"You see, that's how things work out sometimes. Just because you didn't kill him before he was born doesn't mean he'll live. And even if you did, what kind of life is that, surrounded by constant mockery, suffering, and pain?" He'll struggle with all this for at least a quarter of a century before he understands it's just words. Unless he does exactly this first..." He pointed to the corpse at his feet.

"I've just made a choice. Tomorrow I'm going in for surgery. I'd rather have my conscience burdened for the rest of my life by the murder of my own child than know I'll be tormented for years." The Hunter knew he had to show her another image before she woke up, and it seemed like it would happen any minute; then he wouldn't have the slightest chance of showing her another path, the most optimistic one. He decided to "rewind" her dream. In a moment, the surroundings changed. They were no longer in the school building; they were inside some cozy house. He led her into the living room; a family was having dinner. The woman was surprised to see herself sitting at the table. There was another man sitting there, her son, and a little girl, all looking content, maybe even happy.

"What's this all about? What is this place?" she asked

. "Your home, your family, a complete idyll. You hadn't considered that possibility; I don't understand why." It's just as possible as what I showed you a moment ago. Just like hundreds of other scenarios that I can't show you today because I'll run out of time. I feel dawn approaching. I only have a moment left to talk to you. Let's sit down," the Hunter pointed to a comfortable couch in the corner of the room. "You see, there are many possibilities, the future is unknown, you choose your own future, the dream will soon end, and you will wake up, forget about it, and make a decision. Remember, there is equal parts good and evil in the world, even though sometimes it looks completely different. It's the same with decisions; they are neither good nor bad, they simply are... Unfortunately, my time has run out. I have to leave. I believe you will make the right decision. The right decision because it will be your choice, not a solution imposed by family or others. It's time for me to go," the Hunter stood up.

"Wait," he said in a pleading voice, "Can I stay here a little longer?"

"Until the very end of your dream, of course," he said, smiling

. "Thank you, thank you for everything—for the fear, the pain, the uncertainty, and everything else. I'll never forget this." The Hunter nodded and reached his feet. They always forget, well, they're only human...

He returned to his body. He stood up, stretched his legs, and headed home. He felt the dawn was approaching, he might see it someday... Well, no one's perfect... Blindness has its advantages. Sometimes.