What’s your best choice? What if you’ve already lost more?

‘Wake up, loony!’ said a familiar voice somewhere near him.

‘Oh… Holy… Guacamole! You. Again...’ he murmured weakly still lying on the ground.

‘No way! Wake up! Come on!’ once again shouted the same voice somewhere close to him.

‘No way! A strange voice cannot order me!’ whispered the answer from a human body in the grass.

‘Do you want me to speak harder English to you? Okay then! Wake up, monster! Stand up and go away, you, fool!’

Finally he opened his eyes. He looked around without moving his aching head, didn't see anybody, and closed them again. He just needed some more sleep, yes, some more rest, that's it… Hm-m…

‘No-no-no!’ shrieked that one voice whose head he was. ‘Stand up! You bastard! Stand up right now or you'll die from bleeding! You! Stand! Up!’

The voice was so much annoying that he decided to open the eyes once more to get rid of it. He was alone, everybody possible was absent near his sight, so he decided to move his head upwards and almost stand up on his four limbs.

When he half stood, he noticed that his stomach hadn't stood along with him: actually, he was bleeding. Nah, he wouldn’t die from such a scratch on his body, but he had to ask that one talking to him.

‘OK. Now tell me what's happened?’ he grumbled.

The voice didn't answer. He supposed it was angry with him.

‘Okay-okay, sorry, I'll try not to say any rude words to you. Please, tell me, what's happened?’

He heard it snorting, mumbling some offenses, and then it said:

‘That was a bar fight, as usual.’ It stopped, breathing heavily, making the next phrase sound more important.

‘But this time you showed them your real self. That's provoked them. Though they were already drunk, they decided that to kill you was their "saint goal"!’

‘My dear head-owner, be careful next time. Please? Why do you need to always organize fights in bars and streets? Haven't you had enough before?’

‘I don't know. I just want to forget everything that was before... who I was before... and... you know... I...’

‘Oh, come on! Don't you start this drunk song again! I know that neither alcohol, nor drugs can help you to lose your consciousness completely! You do it every time on purpose to make someone help you to get unconscious! To forget! Tell me more! Go on and find yourself someone! You know that what you hear is only a voice inside your crazy head!’

He gathered his stomach inside his belly and grumbled. He wasn't ready to forget. Not yet. He used to be one person, now he was an ander... slightly different one, unfortunately, the information of his verdammt past wasn’t going to get erased!

He already involved himself in the modern world and its life: he had created a few (not more than two!) different businesses, some, well most of them (meaning one of the two!), with a renewal income, nowadays he wasn’t as poor as before...

When he was a young crusader, participant of the Kreuzzug... he was too young then - unexperienced... stupid! He forced his death and the death of his crusaders... in the first attack: he commanded them to jump at their enemy and they gladly killed them all. He died. He was young.

Now he was neu, kinda alive. He was re-born? If so, he was definitely unzeitgemäß! Though he had some importance in the world... These days in a bit different way – he has finished that fight. Though he wasn’t sure about that for the needed percentage… He was rather an old-liner than a young start-upper. 

In this life of his he was already tired of making wars and killing people: now he was creating businesses and charities all around the world to help somebody who's in need or trouble. He possessed lots of houses to host charity organizations of his own, not including the bigger number of other helping organizations.

Yep, sure, he was not a happy modern businessman! He was just hypnotizing those poor silly believing people, he was telling them lies, they were giving him money, they were building businesses under his commanding word. Not all of them were successful, some were anyway.

But still - yet and again - he was alone and lonely. It was hard for him to forget the war where he had made his first and last mistake alive.

‘You know very well that I can't...! Thanks to you by the way.’

‘Don't say so! Of course you can!’

‘And then what? Kill them along with the kids? Oh, no! Thanks, but no, thanks!’

‘Still you should go out sometime during the daylight! Look at you, you're so pale! In addition, you'd leave the town as now they know your special nature.’

He sat back on the ground, he was thinking hard, and, unfortunately, he had to agree with the voice! But he had to play it as if it was his own decision, his "amma-always-right" role.

‘Okay, I'll leave. I'll leave the country.’

‘You mean the state?’

‘Nope, I’ve meant what I said. They have already known me in some other cities, states. I guess, now I should run much further than to a different state.’

‘And where would you go?’

‘Why does it matter for a voice in my "crazy" head? Hm-m?’

The voice remained silent, it might get offended after his "insult". There was still a chance that he was crazy, and was hearing voices as a common schiz. Wasn’t he?!

He definitely had to be a true sick patient somewhere in a mental ward! He was warding the true belief when he was for sure aware of his actions. Nowadays he certainly was either mentally ill or physically unkillable!