Tainted Wings

Chapter Seventeen

It happened again. The dream that haunted Hekate's nights returned, but this time it was different. It changed. Hekate felt the same hand holding her back, the same skin covering her eyes and mouth. Between her fingers, she felt the same cold iron.

The same as before, she tore through the skin to see and breathe. Blood dripped down her face as the loose skin hung along the edge of her cheeks and eyes. But as she glanced down, expecting to see a hunched over body, there was nothing. There was nothing but darkness.

She pulled at the arm still lifted in the air. The hard iron stayed in place as whatever it was held her wrist back. For a moment, there was silence. She could only hear her breathing as she tried to understand what was happening.

Then suddenly, something stepped out from the shadows. A man, dressed in a black cloak surrounded by a haze that seemed to follow. His hood laid on his head, but didn't block his face. He was old. Ancient. But instead of the white hair that revealed age, his hair was pitch black, including his beard.

His face was covered with wrinkles so deep, it was impossible to see even his eyes. The skin hung loosely over his face and the hands that held onto a walking stick as he approached. Each breath staggered as if the motion was too much for his old body to take.

But with each step, his appearance changed. One minute he would be the old man, then suddenly he would change into a younger version of himself. Then the next he'd shift into a young girl, with matching long pitch black hair that was braided intricately along her face. And she too would grow old with each step before reverting back to the young man.

An old man, a young girl, an old woman, a young man, an old man...this continued until he stood in front of Hekate. His hand reached to grab the pieces of skin that hung loosely over her face. He did not speak to her. But as a young man, his milky white eyes glanced at the sword waiting in her hand. With one knock from his walking stick, the sword fell to the ground behind her.

Whatever had been holding her before suddenly released, allowing her to lower her hand. She reached to rub at her wrist, feeling grateful to have control again. Her eyes stared into the milky white ones that evaluated her.

"Who are you?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

As if in response, the man's image suddenly flickered, flashing through the previous incarnations that had walked towards her until the woman stood in front of her. With black painted runes over her face, she leaned close until her voice could whisper into Hekate's ear.

"Are you willing to make the sacrifice?"

Hekate didn't know what she meant. But as the woman leaned back, waiting for an answer the milky white eyes evaluating her, she answered, "Yes."

The woman grinned before her image flashed again, changing back into the old man. The walking stick that was in his hand previously, suddenly changed shape. She didn't get a chance to see what the new shape even was before she felt something sharp go into her chest.

"Death will be a gift," the man whispered.

Suddenly, he vanished. Hekate fell to her knees, as she looked down. On her chest, where the brand had once been, was an open wound, bleeding profusely. She lifted her hands to cover it, applying pressure to her chest. Realizing it was a futile effort, she looked up, breathing suddenly becoming difficult.

Surrounding her now were her friends from school, and even her mother. They all stared down at her with tears running down their cheeks. She leaned forward, using an arm to hold her steady, she cried out, "What happened?"

Marcia moved to stand in front of her, face expressionless, but covered with tears regardless. She bent down, eye to eye with Hekate. Without hesitation, her wings shot out of her back and she thrust her golden-lit hand towards Hekate's chest.