Chapter Thirty-Four

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Chapter Thirty-Four

I rolled over with a slight groan, lavishing in the oh-so-delicious soreness lingering in my tired muscles. Dragging the tips of my fingers lightly over the soft sheets, I reached for the smooth, delectable expanse of Luke's back and shoulder blades that I knew were within arms-reach. But my arms met nothing but empty beds, and my eyes cracked open to take in my suddenly empty room.

"Luke?" I groggily called out, glancing towards my ensuite to see whether he had escaped my tight embrace to attend to some bladder-related issues. Wait, did Luke even have to go to the bathroom? He was the Devil after-all, did that mean he never had bodily functions? Surely not.

After receiving no reply, I quietly slid my legs out from underneath the sheet covering my bare body, to place my feet silently on the floor. For whatever reason, anxiety crept it's way into my body, chilling me to my bones. Tightly wrapping the sheet around my still-naked body, clutching the top of it in a white-knuckled grip. Calling Luke's name once more, I moved towards the centre of the room. Once more, there was no response.

The only answer was the eerie echoing of what sounded to be a slightly out of tune piano coming through the cracks under the closed door leading to the hallway. The tune seemed familiar, each note piercing my subconscious like the melody was begging- no, shouting – for me to understand, to remember. Straining my ears to catch the melody once more, my hand hovered over the door handle. When I had moved towards the door I didn't know – but the melody was so compelling. I had to follow.

The door was silent in opening. Missing its tell-tale creak that often notified the guards responsible for my wellbeing standing in the hallway. Something wasn't right. But I had to remember what that song was, it was just so damn familiar.

Humming gently along to it, my body gravitated towards it unconsciously. Simply giving in to my instincts, my pace sped up. As if sensing my growing urgency, the melody picked up, speeding up to match my racing heart rate. And then my feet stumbled.

I turned my head to the left. Beside me, an assuming door. I had never noticed it before, nothing about it drawing my attention in the past. But now it consumed me – whatever was behind that door would solve the riddle that wouldn't escape my head.

The song was louder now. Without hesitation, my hand reached forward and gently turned the handle downwards, half expecting the door to be locked like so many others in Hell. But the handle slid smoothly down, and it stepped into the dimly lit room.

The figure sitting at the piano was shrouded in darkness. Long and delicate fingers were gently pressing the keys, it was tender, almost a caress. My eyes strained to make out the distinctly male-body.

My body locked up in shock. "Michael," I breathed out. The Archangel made no indication that he had heard me, only continuing to play the melody gently.

I felt torn. Part of me was tempted to turn around and race back to the relative safety of my room – back to Luke. But another part of me, a subconscious and primal instinct drove me forward.

My last interaction with this reborn Michael had not gone well. I had not forgotten this, despite all of the incidents that had transpired since. Was it only a few days, maybe a week since? It felt like years.

The sheet dragged elegantly along the floor as I made my way slowly over to the bench seat where Michael sat. Looking him up and down, I noted the differences in his stature and physical presence from the Michael – before his second death, that was. He was more rigid, his posture reflective of his new status as an Archangel. My Michael had slouched more, giving off a relaxed, gentle vibe.

Nothing about this Michael reminded me of the man I had once loved. He only shared the same face, and even that didn't seem the same. As I drew closer, he finally turned his head to meet my eyes. His jaw was clenched, a definitive and sharp line that contrasted to the still soft, delicate lips. But his mouth was pinched, and his eyes seemed to glitter with malice that I couldn't remember ever seeing before.

"What are you doing here?" I finally broke the tense silence. Without breaking eye contact, Michael slid along the bench seat and patted the newly-freed spot beside him.

"You know that I am not here, Eve," Michael stated. My head tilted in confusion. His voice was devoid of all emotion except disdain as he continued. "Come now, Eve, you know that if I were really here Luke would have attempted to have my head on a spike within seconds of arriving."

"So how can I see you then?" I refused to give this fake-Michael the satisfaction of breaking eye contact first. Even in my state of sheeted-undress, his eyes never strayed from mine.

"I'm in your subconscious – I've been trying to break through to you for days. But it seems that even though you are the one the prophecy indeed spoke of, my true form is still too powerful for your little-human eyes to perceive."

I felt my eyes widen in surprise. "I'm a-asleep?" My voice quavered without my permission, and my hands twisted the sheet tighter around my body. Not even my mind was a safe retreat these days, it seemed. Michael nodded, letting out a small sigh – my human brain clearly annoying him in its limited ability to comprehend what was happening.

But the cogs in my brain sputtered to a stop with a sudden realisation. "Oh my god," I breathed out. "The headaches, the white-light, the bloody coma! That was all you! Why would you do that?!"

Michael remained unaffected by my clear outrage. Shrugging indifferently he said, "I wished to speak to you privately, but with my baby brother clinging to you like a possessive little child, I had to find another way." Sarcasm dripped from Michael in reference to his brother – it was the only sort of emotion that he had shown so far.

Disbelief had me rocking back from my seated position next to him. "My killed me, you bastard! I was literally dead for days! What the Hell is wrong with you?" My hands twitched, itching to slap him across his smug face.

"Well, like I said," A smirk crept its way onto Michael's face. "We need to have a little chat, Eve."

And even as the adrenaline pumping through my body left my heart racing, my mind clicked into overdrive. And then it clicked; the song Michael had been playing. It had been familiar for a reason – like I would ever forget 'You Are My Sunshine'. It was the song attached to the memory of Michael bleeding out on road.

It was the soundtrack to my very first heartbreak. The soundtrack to the steady decline of my life for the past decade.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 04, 2018 ⏰

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