Afterlife: Oblivion #Wattys2024

13. Divine Die-ary: Gods I've Known, Loved, and Accidentally Killed

POV Jane Doe.

I turn and run, my skirts tangling around my legs as I flee blindly into the darkness. I don't know where I'm going, don't care, as long as it's away from him, away from the searing intensity of his gaze and the dark, honeyed threat of his voice.

But I haven't gotten more than a few steps before I slam into a hard, unyielding surface. Strong hands grasp my arms, holding me fast, and I look up into the golden mask of my pursuer.

"You can't run from me, Jane," he says softly, his grip gentle but unbreakable. "There's nowhere to hide."

I struggle against him, trying desperately to wrench myself free. But it's like fighting against a statue, a being carved from marble and shadow.

I fall to the floor, scrambling backwards on my hands and knees, my heart lodged in my throat like a stone. "Who are you?" I gasp out, my voice shaking with fear and confusion. "What do you want? Where have you taken me?"

The masked man tilts his head, considering me with a stare that feels like a physical caress. "We don't have much time," he says, his voice low and urgent. "But know this, Jane. I am yours, and you...you will always be mine."

The way he says it, with such quiet conviction, such possessive intensity, sends a shiver down my spine. It's like he's stating a fact, an immutable law of the universe. Like I belong to him, body and soul, and there's nothing I can do to change it.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are," I spit, anger momentarily overriding my fear. "But I belong to no man. I'm not some prize to be claimed, some trophy to be won."

The masked man chuckles, a low, dark sound that seems to vibrate through the very air. "Of course you don't remember," he murmurs, almost to himself. "But you will, in time. You will remember everything."

He takes a step towards me, his hand outstretched. I flinch back, scrambling to my feet and backing away, my hands held out before me like a shield.

"Stay away from me," I warn, my voice quavering despite my best efforts. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I want no part of it."

The masked man pauses, his head cocked as if listening to something I can't hear. "You don't have a choice, my dear," he says softly. "The game is already in motion, the pieces set. And you...you are the key to it all."

He takes another step, closing the distance between us with effortless grace. "They'll rip you apart, you know," he murmurs, his gloved hand coming up to brush a stray curl from my forehead. I shudder at the contact, my skin crawling with revulsion and a strange, unwanted heat.

"The courts, the council, even your precious Raphael...they'll tear you to shreds to get to the truth."

I stare at the masked man, my heart pounding in my chest like a drum. "What are you talking about?" I demand, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and anger. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers racing down my spine. "Oh, I know that, my dear. But to them? To the courts, the council, your precious Raphael? You are a godslayer. A murderer of the highest order."

"No," I whisper, shaking my head in desperate denial. "No, that's not true. It can't be..."

But even as the words leave my lips, the world twists around me, the shadows melting away to reveal the glittering ballroom once more. But now, instead of a scene of chaos and panic, I find myself standing before the raised dais, the assembled pantheon of gods and monsters staring down at me with cold, merciless eyes.