Page 40 of Love and Death
Because he is dead, and if this fate mark that I’ve been given has its way, in a few days’ time, I will be as well.
I sink to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, and press the heels of my hands into my eyes until the darkness gives way to wild bursts of color.
Why then, shouldn’t I end my suffering now? What reason do I have to keep going, to keep surviving, when all that I have ever loved is already lost?
Even if Father isn’t dead. Even if I am able to save hissoul and escape the Underworld, would I want to continue existing if it meant doing so without Death?
No, of one thing I am certain …
A life without Death is one I do not wish to live.
I’d rather join him in nothingness than spend an eternity without him. At least then we would be together, our souls finally bound forever, however unknowingly, in a shared fate.
I fight to push these thoughts away, but fail.
A hot tear finds its way down my cheek, and I hurry to brush it away before it can summon more. I know I swore not to think like this, to wallow in self-pity, but I can’t seem to help it.
My thoughts feel like madness, and I want nothing more than to escape them.
I reach up to touch the mark on my neck before I can think better of it. My fingers brush over the raised flesh, and a tingling sensation spreads like wildfire throughout my body before quickly turning into excruciating pain.
I crumple, my lungs straining as I collapse sideways, and I am left gasping for air in a matter of seconds. I ride the rolling swell of pain as it intensifies, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of consciousness.
Enough, little one.
His voice rings out as clear as day, startling me enough that my hand drops from my neck. The pain slowly ebbs with each heaving breath as I steel myself to glance around the room.
“Death?” I whisper, a sob choking the sound of his name from my lips.
There is only silence in response.
The room is empty, his voice nothing but a desperate hallucination of my mind. A simple bid to save me from myself.
Pushing myself back into a sitting position, I take a deep, shuddering breath. Though the physical pain has more or less subsided, my heart remains heavy, and I cannot help but wish to hear Death’s voice again.
I would suffer any amount of pain a thousand times over, if it would give me but a moment more with him … whether real or imagined.
I close my eyes and try to clear my mind, but these thoughts—these desires—are like a whirlpool threatening to pull me under the harder I struggle against them. Reaching to pull my knees to my chest, my fingers graze the lines of the hidden dagger.
His dagger.
Suddenly, in the midst of my despair, a flicker of determination ignites within me, and I am able to step onto solid ground once again.
Enough.
I am stronger than this. It would break Death’s heart to see me like this. He would want me to fight, and to keep fighting, until there is nothing left to fight for.
I cannot give up, not yet. Not until all is lost.
If there is a way for me to defy fate, however slim my chances may be, I must find it.
Death is a last resort, and it must remain so.
New found hope rising within me, I pull myself up off the floor and finally make my way over to the bed. There’s a soft crinkle as I settle on it, and I quickly leanover to take my father’s … Cyprian’s book out from between the mattresses.
It opens to the torn-out page, and my eyes widen as I am thrown back to the last few moments before the trial.
The note.
