Sympathy for the Devil

39

Akira's brain matter stained the obsidian wall as I stepped back and dragged the dagger out of her eye. Her eye oozed a white-red substance that strung around the pole like snail slime.

A literal eye for an eye.

My head burned with anger. I was dizzy with rage.

Akira's body was pulverized into black ash that scattered around the room once the dagger was removed from her eye, as if the dagger provided glue to her fractured structure.

I grunted as the weapon clattered at my side.

Arawn nodded at the choice I made. It wasn't a look of pride he shared. It was one of predictability. I made the obvious choice. The choice he assumed I would make all along. He only acted as if my will was free rather than orchestrated in sheer, manipulated pursuits.

He took two fingers and trailed them along Bennett's legs as he crouched down to be level with him.

I mustered every last ounce of strength that I had to inch closer to Bennett and keep Arawn away from him. I let out a groan as I slammed my hands against the glossy floor.

I touched a pinch of Akira's ash. She deserves to be mourned and remembered. I'm sorry I couldn't save her.

It would've been easier if she were just evil. Fully gone. Nothing left to question. Nothing left to regret.

It's not as simple as that.

Sluagh are parasites latched onto souls. There was a soul in Akira once. And now there is nothing left behind. No carnage. No existence. It's sadistic.

Killian's soul was tainted. He was no longer Killian. He was void.

I was too late...

Bennett's body broke into a burning sweat. His body could no longer self-regulate.

Killian revived Bennett's soul and brought him back. Bennett should be living. He should be healed, but he was supernaturally wounded. That takes time. Time we no longer have.

"Don't look so pathetic, Jellie Belly. We can be together now. Till death do us part, right? Bennett was holding us back." His teeth ached as his mouth salivated. "I'm so hungry." He bared his teeth towards Bennett as he lunged towards him. His urges were driving him. He couldn't control the insatiable hunger. It was controlling him.

Seeing Killian's void self is like you're drowning when the shore is right there, but you can't make it. You're going to die, and the last thing you see is supposed to be your salvation, but it turns out to be your demise. You exert all forms of energy trying to make it as the water swallows you and the salt floods your lungs until everything goes black, and still, haunted and paralyzed by the pursuit to not let every bad thing consume you as you're already drowning. You're dying. A decaying being washed up on shore with the frothing foam. Your lips are blue, and your body is hollow as the last few deep breaths fill you with poisoned seawater.

That's how this moment can best be described. You almost make it, but you cannot possibly anymore. It's an impossible probability. The odds are stacked against you. But knowing that will never satisfy you, either.

I wanted to touch him and remember him before I drowned in him and let him consume me. His touch wasn't his own. He was a cold and clammy dead thing. A black hole of a person. A shell. Killian was nowhere inside. I was alone. Bennett was dying. Killian was dead. His body is a vessel now.

My heart swelled intolerably. I nearly keeled over from the pressure. I didn't want to kill him again.

I stayed between Killian and Bennett with quiet strength. "Kill me. Not him. Let him live. Give Killian his body back. Take over me. I know you're capable."