Into the Night

Ups and downs of serendipity

If the murderer perished that night, the story would be over. Together the two survivors would have dug a spade into the earth and left the body among the worms and their regrets. They would have parted ways at the mound, mourning the men and women who died for their love, the death of his second chance at life, and the love they almost had.

Sella would have cashed in his savings, borrowed a considerable sum from his aunt, and moved once more. Possibly to a different town, in another state, possibly another country. He'd leave on the plane, get over his fear of heights, and hope he wasn't headed to yet another town filled with murderers and their enablers. He'd finally have to accept that his life would never meet his ideal, that his quest for normality dealt him more harm than anything else.

Instead, he lived. His lover delicately wiped at his forehead while his strength returned to him. The black sweat dripping from his body stained the white sheets that the lovers had previously rolled in. Life can only be so cruel, before it decides show mercy and mete out sadistic punishment elsewhere. Needless to say it does so at the last possible moment; in the worst possible way.

His short raspy breaths turned clear and long. His heartbeat returned to its prior vigor, and the curse of his birth and punishment receded before disappearing altogether. No longer in his veins, it clung to the sheets and the wet rags wiped against his skin.

Sella leaned in the doorway, sporting a new change of clothes he planned of burning the moment he stepped in his house. Until then, he had to stay to see the rest of the situation through. He only wanted to be there long enough to hear his voice, to make sure that he was as much a victim as he was. He had to be sure that he was a prisoner in his own body, like his lover alluded. Only then would he be able to move on without harboring malice for him.

As for Ash, that would make him more of a monster than he knew.

"Sella, you still there?"

"Yeah," he replied lifelessly exhausted.

The righteous judgment had left his body drained and desensitized. He could barely stand much less traverse the complexity of their social dynamics. As such, he didn't bother giving it much thought. He allocated all of his energy into remaining awake and focused on the unconscious man before him.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you?"

Sella groaned at that thought. He didn't know, nor did have to spare energy to guess.

"I've never heard of a monster that did what you did. You were like a storm cloud, I could feel all the hairs on my body stand as you stared me down. The light that came off you made my entire body feel on fire."

The drained judgment shrugged to say his guess was a good as his.

"How did you turn him back human? Are you some type of witch on steroids?"

Sella straightened up and tried to inject life in his voice.

He failed.

"No, I'm not a witch on anything. Frankly, I don't know what I am or even care at the moment. From what I read and was told, Lilith is my mother and the mother of all monsters. Meaning I'm the first and only one of my kind. I doubt anybody would know..."

Ash's ear picked up at the revelation.

"Well I'm honored, I've never met an original, nor have I met the illustrious Lilith."

Oh the thought of their union. Sella snickered at the image of him trying to converse with her. How it would take a turn for the worse and then some. It pecked at the glass of his mind that held back his inhuman side, that held back memories he wished to keep forgetten.