The Angel of Mercy

Chapter 1

           

He was dead, of that he was sure. There's no way he made it out of the Holy Land alive, not after what he'd done. This must be hell, because there wasn't enough good in him to get him into heaven. Though, if he was being perfectly honest, he didn't believe in either place, or an afterlife, or even god. It was much easier to do terrible things without the thought of someone always watching you.

Wherever he might be, it sure was bright. Blindingly bright, shining even through his closed eyelids. And loud, beyond the roaring in his ears, he heard people yelling, indistinguishable commands coming from all directions, layered over sounds he couldn't recognize. Pain split his head as he tried to focus on the voices, the mental effort making him dizzy.

Wait, that wasn't right. Can you feel pain if you're dead? He should have paid more attention to the drabbling ministers when he was a child, so he knew what to expect when it came to death. If he is really dead, which he wasn't so sure of any more. How unfortunate, he had been ready to embrace death with open arms.

It was then that he realized his heart was beating. No, that wasn't strictly true, either. Someone was beating his heart for him. He was suddenly aware of the rhythmic pressure being applied to his chest, could feel with each thrust his life blood being pushed through his body. His body, though it didn't feel right. He felt heavy, weighted down. Or maybe that was weight of the person straddling him, forcing him to remain alive.

Alive, though he didn't want to be. No, he should be dead, deserved to be dead, wanted to be dead. How dare someone take that from him, make him suffer the consequences of his actions, when he had nothing left to live for? This thought enraged him enough that he struggled to open his eyes and face his aggressor, the monster that was foisting this torturous existence on him.

Blue eyes snapped open, locking onto the soft brown ones that hovered above him. Startled, she faltered a moment in her compressions. He took that opportunity to take a deep breath, the dry air stinging his lungs. With a roar, he sat up, pushing the girl off of him. She was caught by waiting hands before tumbling to the floor.

Pain shot through his side with the exertion, making his vision swim with stars. He cried out again with an endless scream, falling backwards into a black pit. Struggling, he tried to claw his way out, but people were holding him down now. The last thing he remembered before passing out again was the sharp prick to his arm, the sudden rush of warmth spreading through him, and a soothing hand brushing his forehead. After that was blackness.

His nightmares were filled Marian. She danced around him, out of reach, smiling. Or lay next to him, the shock clear in her eyes, realizing what he'd done. Sometimes he'd begin to wake up, struggling against the forces holding him down, only for a soft voice to shush him, some magic keeping his body subdued. Why? Why wouldn't they let him just slip away into the darkness that was calling for him?

Even while his body was asleep, his mind was not. Trapped, constantly fighting to wake up, never quite succeeding. The pain in his side was still there, but different now. It didn't really bother him much, except for the moments he fought too hard, before being coaxed back into his forced relaxation. If he had believed in the afterlife, this was surely purgatory. How long would he stay, stuck in limbo, held prisoner in his own body? The thought made him panic, deciding to put up one last fight. Strange alarms started blaring as he struggled against the unseen force pulling him under. Searing pain, stars, then blackness once again.

The next time he awoke, he was acutely aware that he was restrained. The soft cloth binding his wrists didn't feel strong enough to hold him down, but when he tested it, he was weaker than the bonds. Flashes of memories broke through the haze of ripping fabric and countless hands holding him still. At least he hadn't gone down without a fight.