To Trust in Death

When the sunlight pierced the thin veil of the blinds the next morning, I was alone in the room he had found for me. But I was not solitary. His scent was still wrapped around me, even after I had scrubbed my skin of last night's bloodshed and heartache. It was soothing to my soul, as though it knew the scent of its owner and was at peace. I had one year to spend on this Earth, one year to ponder the nature of our bargain and decide whether my revenge was more important than the life he had returned to me.

Use your time wisely little one. He had whispered to me before he too had joined the shadows.

I had used my time wisely. I had learnt more about myself in those last few hours of two-thousand and eighteen and the last hours before the dawn of that New Year than I ever had in the short twenty years of my life. I knew who I was, I who had found beauty in nature and life, had found beauty in Death. I had relished my life, and that of those around me and I yearned even more darkly for the destruction of the people responsible for taking that away from me.

He had given me life, he had breathed sweet breath back into my prone body and I had given him ownership of my soul. He had asked that I think carefully...and I had. I wanted my revenge; I wanted Molvern's last sight in this life to be my face and the first sight in the next to be that of my Death's judgement. I wanted it more than life.

I know what some of you may be thinking...so many are taken from life and would do anything to get it back, to hang onto it with every shuddering breath and then beg Death to spare them. I begged Death to take me. I offered my immortal soul to the ferryman, and in return he would rid this damnable city of its vermin. I am protecting them all from the murderers, rapists and bastards that have holed themselves up in Gallagar's bar and take great delight in murder of the 'mass' variety. I am protecting thousands of ignorantly blissful people, from the injustice of police covering up any more deaths. I am allowing thousands to keep their bubbles. To keep their daily de-stress walks in the park, their nightly glass of wine as they indulge in their favourite soap operas, their manicures, pedicures and world of tiny dogs and one up-man-ship. They could keep it. I was finally going to be free.

Pulling on my boots, I had to steady myself for a moment. Sinking onto the bed and lying back amongst the soft sheets I contemplated what would happen tonight. My mind wandered, back to the night of my death and those few hours I spent in his arms here before dawn. It calmed me; I felt my soul make its final decision and his scent wrapped around me in an instant.

I turned my head towards the table when I felt him leave me and there it was. Shiny and black, it gleamed in the dim light in a way that was just as otherworldly as he was. I picked it up expecting it to have more weight than it did and turned it about in my hands. It was exquisite. It reminded me of his cloak, the void of black that was alive rather than a woven textile. Fine lines of paler black moved over its surface, just as they did over his skin and I found myself almost mesmerised by it. The alarm of the small clock beside my bed sounded softly dragging me from my appraisal of the weapon and reminding me I had just one hour left. I hid the gun at my back and pulled on my coat. It had been a gift from him, hanging on the back of my apartment door waiting for me the next morning. It was long and dark and warmed my suddenly chilled body when I pulled it closed and fastened it beneath my breasts.

With one final look at the stark place he had brought me to, I smiled and headed out into the night.

Revellers already spilled out onto the streets as I made my way through the yellow tinted darkness. Their joyous shouts, their insignificant brawls and their drunken testaments of love echoed in my ears as the sky began to light up with premature fireworks. With each step I took through the streets, through 6th and 8th, continuing passed the park at 9th, crossing the bridge and the sombre River Taram and into the darker streets, I thought upon my last night of life.

Millie and I had been enthralled by the beautiful fireworks display being set off from the top of the telecom building in anticipation of midnight. The colours streaked so high and in a million different directions and speeds. Some whizzed, some were silent and all were met with smiles. Momma was making us bacon sandwiches in the kitchen, something we did every year – not much of a tradition granted – but it was something we did all the same. Even when we had been old enough to party and celebrate the New Year in the clubs we had stayed at home with Momma instead. We brought in the bells with her and the music channels, and bacon sandwiches before Millie and I would head out and have a few drinks with friends.

It was only half an hour or so before midnight when the door caved in. Momma screamed when the first of them wrapped his arm around her slender throat. I stood motionless in my pretty blue dress, too scared to scream as Millie rounded on our attackers. She knew them. The anger in my lovely sister's voice was evident. She had battled her addictions, she was better now...and yet this monster thought to drag her back into that shit with him. I watched, helpless as he swung a meaty fist at her, broke her nose and sprayed both of us in her blood. He noticed me then, the recognition sinking in. His comments about us being twins, and various other things relating to that fact were sickening. Millie's response mirrored my own 'Go to hell'.

Molvern's evil chuckle could still send shivers through me...even in memory.

It didn't take them long to drag us from our apartment. Or for them to take those foolish enough to come to our aid as we descended the ten floors to the dark street of Rue 14. I passed my old home on the right with fresh sorrow as our screams burned in my memory. The taste of blood was still fresh in my mouth as I drew closer to my target.

The lights of Gallagar's bar were garish and vulgar in the empty concrete square which had once been the local park land. But like everything in this city – if they saw it, they wanted it – and miraculously, it had suddenly become theirs with no intervention from the local law enforcement. Like the desert sands, they had simply swallowed everything from the shore into the city. They had centred their barbaric asses in this one base and by the look of the full compliment of bikes out front – including the black and gold flecked one that signalled my pay dirt – there were a damn sight more of them here tonight then usual. Perfect.

I stepped out of the shadows and strode towards the bar. I would not look out of place here; it is amazing how a radical change in hair colour and new eyes can fool people who had been close enough to taste your tears. I pop in from time to time, learning the lay of the land so to speak and to keep an eye and an ear on Molvern's whereabouts. I didn't want him disappearing before I could have my chance. I walked straight in, not drawing much attention as they are all occupied with a pool game to the side of the bar. Molvern is there. I can already sense him; he wears his greed and malice around him like an overwhelming perfume. He is winning no doubt, hustling as per usual. I take a seat at the long-bar so I can keep him in the corner of my eye and the mirror beneath the bottles could do the rest. It is my usual place to perch and it draws no suspicion from Gilligan. He has seen me here, served me before and I smile as he automatically opens a corona and slips in a lime for me before making small talk. I reply, casual, bored even as I feel each second to my death tick by. The wait alone is killing me. I had to give it a year exactly to the wound he gave that killed me, even though I bled to death after the bells, it was Molvern's final bullet that ended my life.

So even though my fingers itched, my hand would not obey my vengeance until that moment.

I watched him bend and shoot his last few shots, I watched him enjoy his last few sips of beer and I watched him laugh with his murderous comrades. And I counted.

Each. Second. Closer.

I felt his presence reach my heart; I felt my soul lighten as he wrapped his arms around me. I saw his strong hands smooth over my arms and caress the backs of my tightly clenched fists, and yet in the mirror before me...there was nothing. To all around me, I was alone. I felt his breath over my neck as his kissed my shuddering pulse, my lungs ached and my heart sped as I began to feel Molvern's bullets hit their marks the way they did a year ago. I hid my agony and gave myself over to my vengeance.

Its time my little one.

My hand moved, reaching behind my back and wrapping around the sleek weapon. Time slowed, just as it had in the park as I watched a thousand lives pass by. This moment, this place, this action was what I had waited my year for. My arm extended, my body readied, my finger tensed as I ensured my aim was true. I wanted the chest; I wanted him to feel the burning agony of a bullet to his heart before Death took him.

I could hear the commotion commence all around me, the beginnings of sharp inhalations, the brush and creak of leather as they prepared to move for weapons of their own. But none of that mattered. I squeezed the trigger and watched in awe as the dark projectile made its way though space and time and connected with Molvern's chest in a brilliant splatter of red that decorated the walls and those around him.

I barely registered the burn of Gallagar's bullet; I welcomed it as I crumpled to the floor in time to see the look in Molvern's eyes. He knew. He could see me; he could see the malevolent being that surrounded me. He took my soul from my finally dead body with a kiss before he walked towards him. Death had come for him, and relished his screams.

~~~

I watched from a distance at first as Death did his work. Violent and horrifying, he defied nature itself for me, for my given soul. He dragged his victims through the veil fully alive and let his demons ensnare them as he went. In minutes the bar was empty in the human realm, not a single thing out of place apart from the two bloodstains – Molvern's on the wall, mine on the floor. I followed Death on his path, his hand wrapped tightly around my own as we stepped through the veil and pulled the unworthy from their beds, their parties, their seedy motels beneath even seedier whores. He dragged through the police men who were corrupt, he pulled through the Mayor who had covered our cases up, and he yanked them through the fabric between worlds until the other side echoed with nothing but their screams. When his demons finally dragged them all from his great hall – their tortured pleas muted behind their eternal prison walls – I shivered and collapsed to his black marble floor.

It was over; my vengeance was sated, my hatred leaving me in a sudden rush. I resisted the urge to cry and lost as the weight lifted and I felt grief for my family like a sledge hammer to the chest. Hot tears streamed silently down my cheeks, but as I took my first shuddering breath in his world, filled with the scent of all that was him, I knew my soul ready for his taking.

He came towards me with a fire in his gaze and hauled me into his arms. He held me tightly as I finally let go, and as I cried he calmed my tortured heart, and with a gentle kiss, claimed my soul. My hands slipped around his waist until I was flush against him. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heart, soft and slow, soothing in its gentle beat. In the dark silence of his hall, I honoured my side of our bargain with a willing heart.

On this night – one year ago – I died for the first time.

I sold my soul into the gentle rain.

And put my trust in Death.

~~~