remember me, always.

This is a short story I wrote for an assessment. The genre is gothic fiction, but I think it's more of romance =

‘She began to groan around 1.24 in the early morn. Within a few minutes, her body started to convulse and she let out a blood-curdling scream. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I watched my sister intently. She came to me the other night and insisted that I stay awake and record what happens to her at night, to see if anything unnatural went on. Now I understand why; she was thrashing around the whole night, making incoherent sounds, sweating as though it was the middle of Summer, although, Winter has befallen us for weeks now. I wonder what is wrong with my sister, she doesn’t seem to know; or if she does, she isn’t telling me.’

 

Composing myself I closed Callum’s diary and put it back in his top drawer. Inhaling sharply I spun around and left his room, retreating to mine. Only then did I think back to last night. I’ve had another dream, a nightmare if anything else. These dreams have been invading my unconscious state every night. If only they were pleasant dreams! Instead, they are filled with images of death, plagues, bloodshed " events that I would prefer not to have any knowledge of. What makes me question the strangeness of these dreams is that, I remember them. Yet, once in a blue moon when I have pleasant dreams, I never remember what they’re about. All I remember is waking up with a smile on my face and a sense of serenity flowing through me.

 

What is happening to me? Up until my 19^th birthday, I’ve never had these horrid dreams. All had been normal until the eve of my birthday…

I lay in bed, breathing in and out, trying to calm myself enough for sleep. It was difficult, considering that amazing party that my friends had just thrown me. Finally feeling myself drift into the land of unconsciousness I felt a sense of bliss. It was then that the Angel of Death visited me. I’ve seen him in many books, on many websites, yet, this night, I have the privilege of seeing him in person, in my sleep. He was beautiful, exactly as the books had depicted him. He doesn’t have that skeletal face that extreme artists would paint or draw him with. He has that smooth pale skinned face; with coal black eyes, framed by a deep set of eyebrows. His nose was one I would die to have; high-bridged and perfect, there’s no other way of describing its beauty. It was perfect. His lips were full, hinting at a pale pink color. His hair, though covered by that ridiculous, yet cute hood he always wears was obviously jet black, exactly like his eyes. Not once did I feel scared. I felt drawn to him. Somehow, he made me feel safe; I was home. Slowly I moved towards him, reaching out my hand to touch him when I felt he was close enough. As my fingertips were about to touch his arm, it became dark. Darkness consumed me. As a child, I have always been afraid of the dark, it also doesn’t help that I have night blindness. Groping in the darkness for something that will remove me from this darkness, I was suddenly blinded by a white light. Shielding my eyes from that awful glare I looked around. The light dimmed a little and I could see the street I lived on. My home was behind me and across the road, the Angel of Death stood, almost hovering, on the roof. He grinned a lopsided smile at me then faded.

My alarm woke me up then and as I scanned my room I realized, that dream felt real. The presence of the angel of death still lingers. You’ve had too much to drink, Ayla. Snap out of it.

 

That day, as I sat in the living room watching TV, waiting for my family members to get home so that we could go out to dinner, across the road from me, an ambulance arrived in the driveway. I heard it before I saw it, and as I got up off the couch to see what was happening; I felt a sense of déjà vu. I gasped as I saw the men roll out the body of Mrs. Penny. They put her in the back of the ambulance and drove off, leaving poor Cassie and her father standing in the driveway crying.

I turned around and slumped to the ground. The angel of death had visited that house last night in my dreams. Or was it a dream?? I’m not sure. It seems so real. I shook my head, trying to dispel the thought, although, I felt as though it is true.

 

He visited me again in my sleep that night. But this time, he was hovering above a different house. I know that house; it’s the one next to my dance school. I didn’t find it significant until it was ablaze at around 12pm. It was all over the news.

 

From that day till now, the Angel of Death would visit me in my dreams, every night. I’ve realized now that the he will hover above any house that is soon to experience tragic loss. I’d watch as day after day another life is lost, not being able to do anything. Although I felt immense sympathy for those who have lost their loved ones, I was selfish enough to thank whichever god exists that it wasn’t someone I love. That was until the Angel of Death hovered over my house…

I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it. How is that possible? All of my family members are well and healthy. How could one possibly depart this life? It just couldn’t be.

But I can’t kid myself. I know that the angel of death has a purpose, and that purpose is to take away the lives of those he deems ready to depart this world.

 

I stayed up that night, watching for a spark of flame that may set my house, my home ablaze. Listening out to hear if anyone has crept in to murder my family.

 

As the clock struck 12, there in the corner of the living room, a hooded figure appeared. The Angel of Death. Again I felt that sense of security, of belonging. But this time, I stood my ground, waiting for him to come to me. His face was fully hidden behind his black hood as he approached me. I started to hyperventilate, as he was a meter away from me. When he was a hairs length away from me, he suddenly through back his hood and grabbed my arm. A scream escaped my lips as he grabbed me, but was muted by his lips crushing mine. I froze. He sensed my surrender and started to move his lips softly on mine. No, I’m not surrendering. I’m in shock! And at that moment, the only thing I could think of is -- I elbowed him right between the legs with my free arm.

 

He yelped and jumped backwards, holding his key to carrying on the family name, that’s if angels can actually do that… The pain seemed to subside because he looked directly into my eyes, his face contorted with shame and rage.

  “What was that for??” he demanded. What was that for?? Is he kidding me?! I hissed in a breath and said between my teeth, “That was for planting your filthy lips on mine and not introducing yourself. What do you want??” If he can be angry, then so can I.

  “Oh… true, I didn’t introduce myself did I?” a look of mischief crossed his face, “I’m Dylan, descendant of the Angel of Death and Tyra, the Necromancer.

“Excuse me? You’ve got to be kidding me. Even if that was true, that doesn’t explain as to why you’re here, or what you want. Like, how could you be the spawn of an undead angel,” I was rambling, my nervousness was getting the better of me and I was saying anything that popped into my head.

 

As if he was able to sense my nervousness he grinned a lopsided grin, and even though I was angry, my heart melted. 

“It is true. The Angel of Death is my father; I am one of his many sons, the youngest in fact, as he has stopped mating with mere mortals. And what I want… Well, what I want is you. And as to what I’m doing here, I’m here to stop my father from taking you away. Does that satisfy you?”

 “But… what do you mean by take me away?? Take me where? Why??” I was getting scared, this can’t be happening to me, not yet, not now anyway.

  “Come on Ayla, surly you’re aware that the Angel of Death only appears to those whose life he is going to take. And to where, obviously the afterlife, the underworld.”

  “The afterlife? Why would you want me?!” I felt my knees weaken. A look of shock crossed his face abruptly and just as quickly he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him, wrapping his muscular arms around me, locking me in his embrace. His arms around me… it felt right. Like it’s where I belong. I tilted my head back, looking at his face, “Why me Dylan? Why?” He placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head back even further. His eyes burned into mine as his lips touched mine in a feather soft kiss. An electric shock ran through my body as his lips touched mine, and I all but dove into the kiss, my lips moving against his. Not once did his eyes leave mine as our lips danced the dance of lovers. As he pulled back, he grinned, and my heart did a flip in my chest.

 “Can’t you feel it Ayla? That we belong? That we’re meant to be? Can’t you feel how perfect this is?” he gestured at his arms around me, my head resting on his muscular chest. “You’re mine Ayla, always have been, always will be. But my twisted father believes differently. Although he’s aware of my destiny, to be with you, he wants to destroy it. He’s detested me since the day I entered this world, and he will stop at nothing to make me miserable. He’ll try to take you away from me, but I won’t allow it. I just won’t. I pro -- ” I kissed him full on the lips, shutting him up. I pulled away and said, “Okay, I get it. Your dad is crazy. But you know what? Don’t risk your life for me. If what you said is true and we’re meant to be, then you better listen to me. Take it or leave it.”

  “But Ayla, you’ve got to understand that"“

  “Take it or leave it, Dylan. There’s no compromise.” As stubborn as a mule. Mother has always used that metaphor to describe me, and I know it’s true. I am stubborn, but if it’s to save the life of my soul mate isn’t that all right?

  “Fine. I won’t fight him. But, if it becomes necessary, I’m not holding back.” He became serious.

  “Thank you, that’s all I’m asking for.” Again our lips met in heated passion. I felt his hand go to the small of my back as he turned me towards him. He led us towards the couch, pushing me down and falling along with me. The kiss was never broken, even as our legs entwined. He finally pushed away from me, only to start stroking my hair.

  “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are, Ayla? I’ve never seen eyes your color, those deep magnificent emerald eyes. God I just want to kiss them.” And with that he kissed each of my eyelids. “And your hair… hunny, that ebony hair is beautiful. You’re perfect in every single way. But do you know what I like most?” He grinned that lopsided grin that I’ve grown to love within a couple of minutes.

  “What?” I whispered, not wanting to break the magic he has created.

  “Those beautiful lips of yours.” He said, diving right back to claim them as his own. Our lips danced the dance of lovers, moving in synch with each other, to the beat of our hearts. He drew back and inhaled.

 “Ayla I -- ” at that moment we were thrown apart from each other, darkness engulfing us. The darkness subsided and the bright moon allowed me to see Dylan, we were in a graveyard, he was on his feet, facing Death himself. His father’s skeletal body was barely covered by the tattered cloak he wore. In his right hand, he held a giant scythe. Dylan shot me a look over his father’s right shoulder. The look said it all, ‘I love you’

 

The Angel of Death started to circle Dylan.

  “You really think you can fool me, Dylan? You truly think you can defeat me?” The true Angel of Death spat out, “Tonight is the night I get rid of the mistake I made, of the abomination I have created. Tonight, you will no longer be!” With that he lunged at him, his scythe slashing downwards. Dylan jumped out of the way, as graceful as a dancer. He turned and delivered a spinning kick right to his father’s head, sending him backwards.

I saw it then, the shadow that was lingering by Death’s side. It flew straight towards Dylan; I saw the fear in his eyes as it advanced towards him. Why is he just standing there?! His eyes were on mine and his lips mouthed the words: I love you. One last time before the shadow knocked into him. His body crumpled to the ground as Death roared with triumph. He disappeared then, his shadow along with him.

I ran towards Dylan, holding his body in my arms.

  “Dylan! Dylan!” I could feel the tears flowing down my cheeks, but I didn’t care.

  “Ayla… I’m sorry.” His voice was barley a whisper.

  “What was that… thing?!”

  “The soul of a dead necromancer. Only he can kill me… I didn’t know my father knew -- ”

  “No Dylan. No! You’re not going to die. You’re not!” I can’t lose him, I can’t. Not now.

 He grinned that grin I loved so much, “Promise me Ayla" remember me, always.”

And with that… I lost him. Lost him to his hideous father. Lost him to Death.

* * * * *

19 years have passed, and yet, I haven’t aged one bit. It was only after my 25^th birthday that I noticed it. I’m not aging. Somehow, Dylan’s death gave me the gift of immortality. I’ve spent these past 19 years visiting places where Death was about to strike, interfering with Death’s plans. Revenge.

As I was wandering through the city of Venice, there at one of the stalls stood Dylan. My heart leaped in my chest. It was beating like crazy. I ran towards him, yanking on his arm and turning him towards me.

  “Dylan!” I was hyperventilating, just like the first time I met him.

  “Do I know you?” He asked in a heavy Italian accent.

I was shocked; my heart was shattering. He doesn’t know me! I was on the brink of tears when I noticed something on his right arm… Words…

Remember Me, Always

He had those three words tattooed on his arm! I touched it ever so softly and he cringed. His face contorted with pain and as I watched him, he seemed to have had a revelation.

He looked at me with a new expression, knowing in his eyes.

 

“You remembered.”

 

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The story got stronger by the word. I like the feel of death near and the battle to keep the sanity in the story. I had to read a second time. The story description is strong. Making your story come alive. A excellent story. When death is near. Can be a scary time.
Coyote

[.:Arianna:.]

I definately want to read more short stories of yours. You are truly talented, i dove in every word,this ever so dark and still passionate story!! I loved it, it's all i can say! Great job! I think while i was reading it out loud, i must have said ''oh,my god'' to nobody in particular more than once...