Page 27 of Surviving Hallow Hill
“Shifter blood did nothing to your friend except taint him and make him useless as a subject and a Sekar. But you’re more powerful than he is. I have high hopes for your transition.”
His words begin to sound far away, a distant echo that I try to reach and grasp in my trembling fingers. The pain in my mind seems to push aside the gravity of what he’s saying until I don’t understand a fucking thing at all.
“Vitals are steady.” The touch of his fingers on my eyes makes me flinch. My eyelid is pulled back, but I don’t see anything other than bright light. “Pupils are dilated, but that’s to be expected.” He pulls away, and I take in a deep breath.
The scent of black orchids hits my nostrils as soon as Dr. Hyde pulls away. My teeth clatter together; my body feels cold, so fucking cold.
I’ve danced with death long enough in my life to know when it’s near. To know when she’s near. I know I should feel afraid for myself, that I should cry and scream and rage that I don’t deserve this, but I can’t muster the energy to do it.
All I want is an end to this pain.
For a moment, the blinding light in front of me dims, and Hyde’s silhouette shifts, morphs into something else. My vision is blurry, but I see her clearly. I know down to my soul who is in front of me. It’s like welcoming an old friend home. Like having a missing piece of my soul settle into the perfect place right next to my heart.
A smile pulls at my lips.
“M-my Lady...”
Her face, like always, is veiled with shadows of darkness, hiding the deathly impact of her skeletal face. But even through the veil, I can see her lipless face pull into a smile.
“Take me.” I shouldn’t be making demands of a deity, but the pain is becoming too much. Like rivers of fire are coursing through my blood, and I can’t douse the flames.
Her robes shift and flow like shadows themselves. They cover her whole body, but do nothing to hide her womanly curves. A light flashes, and I gasp as a scythe appears in her hand. The handle is shining obsidian, the blade curved and etched in runes.
Runes I recognize, because they’re etched into my own sword.
In all her holy images, I’ve never seen her scythe carry runes, and I wonder why they match mine, but push that away. It’s not important. It’s an honor to match my Lady of Holy Death and Darkness. The only thing to fear here is the fact that I’ll die without being buried with Damios.
“Take me,” I demand again. My voice is weak, my body is cold, and the scent of orchids envelops me like a blanket of smoke until I feel like I’ll choke on the sweet stench of death.
There’s another flash, and this time, my Lady is not alone. Two figures appear behind her. Two figures I know as well as I know my own lovers, because that’s who they look like. Styx and the Reaper. My Lady and her scythe.
They are the holiest figures in Sekar legends, and they all hover before me. My Lady, a goddess that can give life as easily as she smothers it. The Reaper, who condemns dark souls to die and suffer. The Scythe who takes the lives. And Styx, who guides souls to the afterlife.
Together, they make the most formidable group, but instead of fear, I feel awe. I feel starstruck. My Lady is framed between the Reaper and Styx. Reaper with his massive body of muscle and shadows, Styx in his wolf-like form with his head cocked to the side.
I try to make out the features of their faces, but the harder I concentrate, the blurrier they appear.
“Take me.”
Then my Lady’s voice cuts through my pleading. “No.”
I fight back the groan that wants to rip through my body. I don’t want her to think I’m complaining, but that pain is too much. It hurts, and I just want the torture to end.
“Now is not your time, Emmera.” A skeleton hand reaches forward, and I feel the touch on my forehead. “You have reaped souls for me all your life, and you will continue to do so because you are my—”
I don’t hear what she says next because my whole body seizes up, and I scream. I scream out my pain and my anger. I scream out dozens of curses.
I feel the needle in my leg and liquid pouring into my system. This time, it isn’t fire. It’s ice.
“There you are,” Dr. Hyde purrs with amusement. “Thought I lost you for a second. No matter. Ancient blood brought you right back.”
My head drops against the table. Hyde speaks again, but this time I shut his voice out, even when I can’t shut out the agony of what he does to my body. The tears come then, slipping from my eyes and sliding against my temples. I pray he can’t see them. I’ve given him my freedom, my pain, my screams.
I’ll be damned if he gets to have my tears, too.
So I shove them back as far as they’ll go and take a steadying breath. The scent of orchids is still there, my Lady’s presence prominent in the air. I focus on that instead of anything else. I focus on that and the words she said to me.
It is not my time to go, but when I get out of here, I will have my revenge.
I will have a soul to reap.
