Zelus (Perseus Reimagined) (BXB)

Chapter 36

I'm seriously being complimented by my illusions right now. What the hell is wrong with me?

???

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO," I kept chanting in the darkness of my closed eyelids, hands blocking my ears only to hear myself. "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real."

I kept repeating it, and my words were jumbled up that I started mispronouncing everything. I paused, but my eyes and ears remained closed. I listen and hear nothing but the soft, muffled music of nature. I then open my eyes, seeing my feet, wriggling my toes to know I'm still there. My hands fall from my ears, and I slowly pan up, only to see Alex still standing there, but his arms are crossed against his chest this time. A single eyebrow lifts as he stares at me with secondhand embarrassment.

"Are you done?" He asks.

"No, no, no," I walk towards my illusion and speak straight to his face. "You. Are. Not. I repeat, NOT real!"

"You. Are. Really. I repeat, really, hurting my feelings now," he responds, placing his palm against his heart, pretending to be hurt. "I come back to see you, and all I get is, you're not real?"

"But you're not!"

"I am," he holds his hand out, waiting for mine to grasp it.

I hesitated, but I knew my mind was begging me to take his hand, to remember what he felt like. His warmth and veins pulsed against my skin when we held each other. I took his hand. In an instant, I recalled the ways I felt when I held his hand for the first time. It felt surreal that I fell back once again.

"Nope, no, you're not Alex," I said, backing away, but a tree prevented me from going further. Its overgrown roots sprawled at my sides, poking my wings. "Dolus, this is a whole new level of low, even for you! Stop it, and just come out with your true form!"

"What will it take for you to believe it's me, Jon?" He strode towards me, crouching down to his knees, and our eyes met. His sky-gray orbs made my chest heavy because they looked exactly the same as I remembered.

"Alex is dead... and everybody knows the dead never come back," I said.

"And everybody knows the impossible would never happen. Like a twenty-first century man being sent to the eighth century," he lifts his hand up, studying his palm. "I know I'm dead. I still am, actually. And you're right. The dead never return, but they could pay their loved ones a visit."

He sits cross-legged in front of me. It's then I notice he's wearing his favorite pair of gray sweatpants with a mini-Pikachu head sewn on the left pocket and his most comfortable black V-neck t-shirt. He wore them so often back then that sometimes he forgot to wash them.

"Hear me out," he says. "I was on my way to the afterlife. Judgment has been bestowed upon me, and my afterlife has been determined. I didn't know what awaited me, but the Gods assured me that there was nothing to fear. I suppose it doesn't matter if I'm scared because whatever happens next, I'll have no memory of my current life. I'll be reborn."

Even though I still perceive him as my illusion, my eyes well up quick when he mentions his memories will fade once he leaves for the afterlife permanently. If he were the real Alex, he'd forget about his parents, his life in Seattle, and his friends. Me.