Prophecy

Chapter 60: Help

*Grace's POV*

I stand at the edge of an Apocalyptic vision, gazing out over a world ravaged by decay and despair. The once-vibrant landscape that stretches before me is now a barren wasteland where lush forests have withered into skeletal remains. The cities crumble into desolate ruins beneath a heavy, darkened sky. The air is thick with the acrid stench of death, a perceptible presence that clings to everything around me.

In the heart of this chaos, Death emerges, riding a pale horse that seems to embody sickness itself. Its ghastly color reflects the grave, a foreboding symbol of doom. Death, an elderly figure with a wild, unkempt beard and hair, appears almost spectral. His skeletal frame and protruding ribs accentuate his ghostly presence, and his minimal clothing adds to the air of eerie chaos. He wields a scythe that pulses with evil energy, an instrument of destruction that matches his dreadful aura.

As Death rides, the scene unfolds with grim inevitability.

His horse tramples over the fallen, each step marked by the sickening crunch of lives being snuffed out. I watch in horror as people around him collapse lifelessly, their bodies dropping as if struck by some invisible force. The ground beneath him cracks and groans, revealing the molten fury of the earth's core as if the planet itself is rebelling against his presence.

Trailing behind him is a spectral shadow that deepens the sense of dread. The vision is a relentless parade of suffering and annihilation, each moment more haunting than the last. As the cataclysm unfolds, a crushing realization settles heavily in my chest—the Apocalypse I am witnessing might not be just a nightmare but... a grim omen of what lies ahead.

I jolted awake, a cold sweat clinging to my skin as the remnants of a visceral vision lingered in my mind. Images of a world succumbing to illness and decay played behind my eyelids. The sky darkened by ash, cities crumbling under the weight of despair, and the anguished cries of humanity echoing in my ears.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

The Horseman's wrath was spreading like a plague, leaving destruction in its wake, and there seemed to be little anyone could do to stop it. Fear gnawed at my heart, but beneath it all, a fierce determination burned brighter than ever. I couldn't escape the ominous feeling that what I had seen was a forewarning of a calamity yet to come. I knew, deep down, that my vision would come true if Xavia and I didn't stop Death and, soon, her own father.

I will protect her no matter what.

I will kill him if I have to.

I turned to look at Xavia, who peacefully slept beside me. Her chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, oblivious to the nightmarish vision that had plagued my sleep. Her dark hair lay across the pillow like a silk curtain, framing her serene, beautiful face. The sight of her brought a sense of calmness that washed over me, easing the turmoil swirling within.

As I watched her, a different kind of heat began to build inside me—a yearning that stirred my very soul. The curve of her lips, the softness of her skin, and the way her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly as she dreamed. All of it ignited a desire I couldn't ignore. A sly smirk curled my lips as I bit down gently on it, imagining the myriad ways I could make her moan my name and... make her body tremble with waves of ecstasy beneath my touch.

Carefully, I shifted my weight, grateful for our shared habit of sleeping in the nude. Any barriers between us would have only impeded the plans forming in my mind. Gently, I parted Xavia's legs, revealing the intimate beauty that was my lover. The mere sight of her made my mouth water, and I couldn't hold back any longer—the need to taste her was too overwhelming.