Legacy's Ghost

Episode 25: Praying for Death

"No, no, no. You don't get to get out of it that easily," the Ghost says. He puts something that smells like incredibly strong rubbing alcohol under my nose, forcing the darkness out of my vision, and bringing me back to consciousness.

My head throbs and pounds like I'd been kicked in the face. It takes a few seconds for my brain to re-engage, reminding me that I've been impaled by a Swam, and now the Ghost is performing his own form of torture by trying to cauterize my wounds enough to stabilize me so I can be moved to safety.

Safety.

The Swarm. I'd seen more of them in the darkness, beyond the reach of the Ghost's light. Where are they?

I sniff, but I can't smell anything over the sweet smelling stench of the cauterizing powder the Ghost has been using on me.

"You with me, Atan?" the Ghost says, his voice deceptively bright.

I groan and nod.

"How much of my story do you remember?" he asks. "Before you blacked out?" The Ghost puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip. "I finished the wounds on your front. I need to roll you over and do the back, okay?"

I grunt and nod again.

I hiss at the pain when he rolls me over.

The Ghost curses under his breath.

I feel him patting at the wound on my back where my ribs are with his robe. Must be the worst wound.

"You still there?" He asks before he tears another bag.

"Yeah." I take a couple labored breaths then say, noting the slur to my speech, "You were telling. . . bombshell."

"You're doing great, Atan. I've never seen another kid as strong as you. You're..." he huffs. "You're amazing."

I try to smile, but I can't. I just let his compliment wash over my mind, and seep into the cracks of my soul. If I die today, I'll die knowing the Ghost called me amazing. That's something, right?

"So I've got good news and I've got bad news," he says, pulling me back to the present. "The good news is I have only one more cauterizing pack. The bad news is, you still have four gaping wounds."

My nostrils flare. My eyes sting. A hopeless abyss hovers over me, waiting to consume my soul. All of that pain for what? To die anyway?

I pull in a breath, fighting the tears. Swallowing back a sob.

That smell is back. Oily and pungent. Seeping into my nostrils and filling my pores.

The Swarm are back.

". . . I'm gonna patch you up, then hightail it back to the colony and get some help. . . hold on. Okay, bud?"

I think I nod. I'm pretty sure I open my mouth to warn the Ghost. I'm fading in and out of consciousness now.

Not that I'm complaining. Every time I come back, the pain is overwhelming.

He tears open the last cauterizing bag. "Okay. Here we go."

The instant the powder hits the wound on my ribs, it's like boiling tar hits my veins, branching in all directions, searing the pathways of my arteries and boiling the blood up my neck, into my brain, out my mouth and nose and ears, and every pore of my body.

This must be what it feels like to be burned alive from the inside out.

I shriek in pain. My body arches convulsively, trying to jerk away from the pain, but when the agony is everywhere there's nowhere to escape. Nothing to do except jerk and shake.

My nostrils burn with the scent of cooked blood and meat. I taste metal and feel the crackle of electricity.

The torment looks for more ways to escape, more parts of me to scorch. It finds my eyes, forcing them open.

The cavern glows an eerie blue. Electricity crackles and arcs around my body, rippling over the cavern floor. A cobalt-colored bolt of energy connects to the carcass of the dead Swarm, and then returns to me. It zaps us over and over again like a Tesla coil attached to cockroach.

Paralyzed by the heat and pain, I stare at the ceiling, praying to everything that his holy to just. let. me. die.

Please let me die!

As if my prayers are answered, my vision fades.

The scents disappear.

The crackling and sizzling lessens.

The metallic taste mutes.

All thought disappears and I'm lost to the oblivion.