DYING MOURNINGS, original

twenty-three: bright lights and you're out

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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 : 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓

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I woke the next morning with an aching body and still covered in mud.

I had come inside last night and for a brief moment, carefully took my shoes off and put the groceries away, and then fell asleep instantly in the warmth of my bed. I didn't give myself time to even think of what had happened, to truly process everything that I had witnessed in less than five hours.

Gretchen Cork was dead, killed by Jeb Reed.

At least, he made it seem like it was him.

Jeb Reed was also dead, Spiorad had done her job quickly after I had, of course, gotten brutally beaten up first.

His name was marked off in my mother's journal, the book laying open on my side table with my pen still resting against it's neatly lined pages. I had only eight more demons to go through before Cage's plight could be resolved and the threat would finally be gone and I'd be free.

Well, I'd be free the second the tarot cards were enacted and completed. The idea of those cards still being able to play a role in my life sent a cold shiver down my spine and an irreversible anger towards Wrath for allowing me to take part in her little games.

I sat up from my bed and slowly slid my legs out from under the covers. I scowled, I would have to do laundry at some point, my blankets were filthy.

I felt true pain the second I stood up and stretched lightly, my back and sides and face bringing out a sudden dull ache that grew and grew that I had to double over slightly to catch my breath. I trudged slowly into my bathroom, bracing myself against the doorframe as I turned the light on and looked at myself, truly looked at myself, in the mirror.

I had deep, dark circles under my eyes and my hair was matted and clumped with dried mud. The cut along my cheek was puffy and red and there was dried blood crusted through the center line, dark and brown. Along the cut was the beginning stages of a large bruise that was spread across my cheek. I brought my fingers up to it and winced, it didn't seem like I was going to be able to cover it up well enough without hurting.

The bruise on my face stretched from near my eyes and down the course of my cheek bone and jaw. Reed had struck me with everything he had and it was apparent just how strong he truly was by the monster creeping across my face.

I stripped out of my jacket and rest of my clothes after turning the shower on and I caught a look at the bruising across my ribs and stomach from where he had hit me so hard I couldn't catch my breath. I had bruises around one ankle from where he had grabbed me, yanking me across the earth and into his clutches and when I turned around to look at my back, I noticed the artwork of bruises from hitting the ground too many times.

I suppressed a yawn because opening my mouth too wide sent a shooting pain through my face as I got into the shower. In an instant there was brown, dirty water circling the drain as water rained down my sore shoulders and bruised back. Even my legs and thighs were sore, the muscles never having worked this hard before. Hell, I don't even remember the last time I was sore like this. The way my muscles ached when I moved and breathed, the tightness in my legs and arms, the soreness right between my shoulder blades and abs.