What kind of activity do you think about when you think of sweating?
Maybe various sports, like boxing!
Perhaps a construction worker.
A farmer is also a great one!
Bryon isn't thinking about that right now, but what's causing him to sweat so much is none of the above, but rather the hard labor of.....cutting a body into pieces.
Bryon isn't a serial killer, so it was hard for him to get started.
But oddly enough, his duplicate is decomposing weirdly fast, thus making it easier as time progresses.
Bryon wasn't very squeamish when it came to blood. But he was really uncomfortable dismembering a human corpse, it just felt wrong- as it should.
And since it was his own body(?), it made it even weirder for him.
"Sorry...me? Bryon the second? I can't have you stinking up my apartment or being discovered, I wouldn't want my dead body to have this fate either."
He's also debating if he should have some kind of funeral for himself.
After draining all the blood, and all the parts into a trash bag, he starts the next phase of his plan.
Which is trying to figure out what to do after you have a corpse in a trash bag.
He could throw it out, but what if it gets discovered?
Maybe he could try burying it somewhere.
Randomly, he had a stray thought about cannibalizing his own corpse.
No no, that's way too messed up. Not only is that cannibalism, but it's also myself! And the body's decomposing real fast so that's a health risk.
Hm? But if it's decomposing abnormally fast, then burying it should be the best thing to do, right?
He seals the bag tight, and leaves it in his bathroom.
Hoping that the body would become mostly fertilizer by the end of the day, he leaves it and starts cleaning up the mess in his living room.
"I might have to throw this away."
Even though he has his own dead body in the bathroom, he's more depressed about his blood-stained rug. Well, even if it gets found and investigated, surely it'll just be his blood, and he's alive and not-missing.
He tosses it into a spare trash bag and starts scrubbing the floor with bleach.
Hours have passed, it's already getting dark out.
He should probably get ready to go dig his own grave, but there's a problem- he doesn't own a shovel.
Should he go borrow one? But that's a bit suspicious..
And a trowel would take forever.
Guess he'll have to go buy one, in the middle of the night.
"Come again."
He's simply buying a shovel in the middle of the night, with dirtied latex gloves still on, not suspicious at all. Yet he's still getting stares from people. I wonder why?
Walking through the automatic doors after a great splurge- a singular shovel. He can't shake the feeling that he's being watched.
Hopefully it's not some kind of detective trying to get dirt on him for murdering himself.
But that happened this afternoon, so it's unlikely something like that would happen so fast.
At least the cool breeze calms him down. It'd be nice if he didn't have to dispose of himself.
As he approaches his motorcycle, he notices a woman coming towards him.
Suspicious
Am I going to get jumped? She's definitely bait.
"Here."
"Huh..?"
He was handed a piece of paper, containing a phone number.
Do women just give out their numbers like that?
Even though he was thinking it was a trap, he still felt excited.
"Call that for more information about the device."
"!"
Device? The teleportation device!? Is she the sender!? or related?
"Are you-"
"I'm just a messenger. Nothing more nothing less. This is all I'm here for."
"...Could you tell me your name?"
"Mmm~, not right now. But I have a feeling I'll have another message to send to you sooner or later. I'll see you later."
"..."
He was disappointed, well he did get a number from her, but it's probably not even hers.
Man, she was kind of pretty too..
Getting to dig a Bryon-sized hole, he chooses an area with plenty of trees, vegetation, and no people.
Digging the earth seemed to be more difficult than he had expected, he thought digging dirt would be super easy. However, reality is different, not to mention his exhaustion after dismembering himself.
"Maybe I should've worked out more, like- 5 more pushups than usual per day!"
After digging a hole that he believes he could fit himself in, and after testing it by literally fitting himself in, he brings out the body bag.
As soon as he unseals it, he immediately gags at the stench. The inside is some kind of unrecognizable mush of crimson brown and piss yellow and maybe some other colors. There's still some chunks of bone left and what looks like to be an eye and even some fingernails leftover.
Looks like it didn't fully decompose, but this is still a lot for only one day..
Trying his best not to vomit and add into the already disgusting mush, he pours the mush into the Bryon-shaped hole.
After the bag is emptied, he realized that he could've just thrown the bag into the hole instead. Especially since it was apart of evidence. Oh well.
He hastily fills the hole to prevent the stench from getting any worse and allow the mush to return to mother earth.
"Guess I'll just throw the bag away, probably won't raise suspicion...probably."
Arriving home, he quickly disposes of his gloves and dirty clothing.
He's more exhausted than he has ever been in his entire life.
He would love to take a shower and clean off, but the recent dismemberment in his bathroom disturbs him. But it's that or sleep feeling like shit. And so he forces himself to shower in the dismemberment room.
After cleaning off and finally ridding himself of.. himself, he feels at peace. He would love to read that manual and call that number he got, but he's way to tired.
He jumps into bed and quickly begins to lose consciousness.
And in those few seconds before sleep, all he could think about is his dead body.
He's gasping for air.
Where am I?
Everything around me seems otherworldy.
Am I dead? Am I dreaming?
His surroundings were nothing but static white, and what resembled clouds.
He didn't seem to have any physical senses, or a physical body to begin with.
All that's within his view is a dense white fog, while the sky somewhat resembles a normal, cloudy blue sky.
Then- he notices a silhouette in the distance, concealed by the fog.
With each heartbeat it comes closer, and this figure is instilling fear into Byron.
The closer it gets, the faster his non existent heart beats.
It's moving slowly and coming closer as time progresses.
Yet each second feels like an eternity and each half-second feels like a lifetime.
All he can do is wait and wait until that figure reaches him.
And soon, he can make out a face. It's his own
Even though he has no lungs or way of breathing, he's gasping for breath.
The fear he's experiencing is like none other, a fear that cannot be rivaled.
He feels like he's drowning, burning, being crushed.
And he's terrified, he's terrified of death.
The figure isn't even walking towards him, it's simply gliding towards him in a straight line.
Not even an expression on that face, as if he's already soulless.
Maybe, maybe he is. And he's trying to take my soul.
As the figure is merely a few feet away from Bryon, Bryon tries to scream, but he cannot.
"-AAAAAHHH!"
He had jumped out of bed, with cold sweat leaking out of every pore of his body.
His heart was beating faster than it ever has.
Still terrified and nervous, he nearly colored his bed with his stomach acid.
That scream probably disturbed a neighbor.
He'll probably have to apologize to whoever lives at 405.
But right now, all that was on his mind was that box.
Soul Transit - Chapter 2 "Damaged in Transit"