He was the first to go.
The darkness. It floods the mind and kills what's left. Some call it, the death marker. This was because you wouldn't live a day with it in your system and as soon as you contracted it, you knew.
First, your limbs would no longer work.
Then, you'd slowly lose control of all functions.
Soon you'd be left with only your eyesight and hearing as portals to the world. This was the worst torture of them all. Seeing your friends cry. Your parents weep. You siblings sob. And having no way to comfort them. You'd simply sit and watch as all those you loved died along with you.
All this would happen in a manner of a few hours.
"Death Marker" was a bit harsh in my opinion.
Death itself did not create this. This was not a whim of some divine being in an attempt to rid the world of humans. No, this was a mutation of a preexisting virus. One that had started out as so insignificant that no one had noticed it. It snuck into its hosts bloodstream and awaited the moment to strike. That moment, a week ago today.
He was the first to go.
I watched from my perch above his head board in confusion as his systems slowly failed. I saw as he began to vomit. But with no ability to even turn his head, he simply opened his mouth, releasing the bile. I studied through the eyes of another man. A man that sat there as his love died in his arms.
He was the first to go.
I watched that man, his dark hair covered his soft eyes as he cried silently for his fallen lover. The dying man used his final moments to think of the man by his bedside. He thought three simple words before he passed into my awaiting hands. His body didn't pass of course, only his soul. It came to me easily with little resistance. He was finally at peace and without pain.
It's something I never truly understood of humans. You fight and fight to keep your breath, but preach of wanting peace. Is it not the same thing? To die and to have peace? I have never had life. I have never had death. I just am. There are many like me. We simply are. We know not of the process of our creation. We know not of a god like the men preach about. No heaven or hell. Just peace. I have always been at peace. I see the pain to the eyes of the people who hold on. I do not understand. Why fight the inevitable? Why do men fear their own mortality? Why hold on, when all your holding onto is pain and grief?
That's all I see now in the breathing husbands face. Breathing, but not living. Heart pumping, but not feeling. He died along with his love, his body just hasn't caught up.
He was the second to go.
I watch the man sob again as the coffin is lowered. I saw the misery in his eyes as he read the headstone. I felt the pain in his gaze as he stared through me. I knew the relief he felt when his legs gave out.
He was the second to go.
A/N
Happy Halloween!!I honestly don't know how I feel about this one. Oh well.
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Oneshots!
FanfictionI'll be writing in here when I'm supposed to be writing my other story's because I'm trash and can't just commit to an idea.