Hunting the Darkness

I entered the room. He was standing in front of a painting, looking at it. So big it covered the entire wall.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, still looking at the painting.

"I need your help."

"Yeah, I figured," he paused, Turned his neck a little, and continued, "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to find something for me,"

"And why would I help you?" he sounded sad. I could barely hear him like he was whispering.

"Because we are in the middle of a war," I tried to understand him more to tell him what he wanted to hear, but it was different with him this time. I could not feel him. "If you don't help me, there would be nothing left for you to fight for."

"How long have you fought in this war?"

"8 years"

"After 8 years of fighting alone, now you come to me for help?"

"I didn't ask for your help sooner because you couldn't help till yesterday. In all the possible future I predicted, you didn't exist. But yesterday, I saw it." I paused for a second, "Something happened yesterday, didn't it?"

He was so quiet, was not even moving. I could not even hear him breathe.

"Frank, what happened yesterday?" I asked.

He brought up his hand to touch the painting, and then slowly he turned to face me, "This happened."

Oh god! I walked towards him, reaching for his face, his eyes. There were two circle bandages on his eyes. I carefully took one of them off. His eyelids were stitched together, burned. He put his hand on mine and put his bandage back.

"I am so sorry," my hands were cold as ice.

"Why? You didn't do this." he shrugged and continued, "I guess you don't need my help anymore,"

"I do. This is the reason the future changed. I don't know why this happened, and I hardly believe in coincidences. You are the one who is going to help me," I took a deep breath, "with or without eyes."

Silence.

"My grandfather painted this," he pointed at the painting behind him on the wall. It was the head of an owl, a barn owl. Looking right into your eyes with its deep dark eyes, "He used to say owls are harbingers of death coming from hell. And when I asked him why he painted one, he said because there is an owl inside all of us." he paused, turned to face me, "They rely on a sense of hearing and hunt in complete darkness. Do you want to know why I still have it?"

"sure,"

"Because it felt good to look at it. It felt like he was watching over me." He turned to face it. "Since yesterday, I can't even see it. Now I have something I didn't have yesterday. I hear it hoot" he touched the owl's eye, "Like it is calling my name. Hooting, Hooting. In my absolute darkness. Leading the way. Telling me to Hunt in darkness."

"well, What I saw makes more sense now," I whispered.

"So answer the question. What do you want from me?"

"I need you to find a door," I waited to see if he was going to say something, "I need you to find a door to hell."

He bent his neck a little. I could not see his face, but I felt he was smiling. "You are kidding, right?"

"I need you to find hell for me."

"You are serious. How long do I have to find hell?"

"3 days,"

He laughed. "You had 8 years, and now you want me to find hell in three days? A blind man! You are out of your mind! There is no such thing as hell. This is hell, right here, right now."

"Frank, Please."

"Why would you want to find hell?"

"I need to put someone there."

"Like banishing? Why not kill them? They go straight there!"

"Because that person can not be killed."

"I have never seen anyone who can not be killed, Except for you" suddenly, he paused, turned to face me, "Who do you want to put in hell?" his tone was like someone who found out about a big secret, but didn't want to believe it.

"Myself."