Nothing Thereby Allison K. East
He had not felt anything for a long time, not fear, not elation, not anything. Quite a feat for a man (Immortal) who once felt too much. But it had not been like that for years. Decades even. Maybe he had lived too long. Part of him knew that his growing apathy should be a cause for concern, but that was also something he could not seem to care about. He began doing crazier and more dangerous, life-threatening stunts, trying to generate something. With each stunt he failed. With each dangerous stunt he pulled, he knew that no matter what happened, he would not die—or at least stay dead. Which meant that no matter how life-threatening the stunt, it literally could not scare him, let alone fill him with any sort of elation. Life suddenly meant nothing to him. He was not living, just existing. As time went on and his ability to feel diminished, he began to forget what it was like. What it was like to feel fear, elation, or anything else. Suddenly it was not enough to do crazy, life-threatening stunts; they were doing nothing for him. He needed more, he needed something else. So when he did his crazy stunts, he began to do them with other people. Friends. If he could not feel anything for himself, on his own behalf; maybe he could feel it on theirs. Maybe he could feel fear for them, or elation. He should have realized that it would not work. Not only did he not feel fear for their lives, but he found that he was rapidly not caring that he was not scared. He felt nothing, he cared about nothing. Was there anything that could get to him?
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