Chapter Six: Sorry, Your Life Has Been Disconnected

 

            “Wait,” I say. “Before you bind me, can I ask something?”

            Andrea gives an impatient huff. “Yes?”

            “How long will it take for us to save to the day?”

            “Well, time flows differently between here and there. I can sense the time in the Underworld, wherever I am, and I know for certain that only a few seconds have passed since I left the Underworld to come find you. When we get there, that time probably would have elapsed to a few minutes. At that point, we’ll have twenty-four hours until Nikolai and his brothers end the Grim Reaper’s soul. As for how long it will take to stop this madness in your world’s time, I have no clue. Sorry,” explains Andrea.

            I frown. “What’ll happen if we don’t get back before Shane and Theresa? They’ll give me a funeral, probably, and I’ll be stuck underground forever! And, if you resurrect me at that point, what will they think if dead Shawna comes knocking on the front door? Or…my body might have decayed by then. Ew…” I put my head in my hands.

            “Well, if that happens, then I’ll just kill you again,” Andrea says, as if it’s no big deal.

            “It’s no big deal.” There’s Roy’s voice again.

            “Shut up, Roy. I don’t need this right now,” I mumble under my breath.

            “Humph.”

            “Are you ready to die?” Andrea asks.

            I might not get the chance to die again, so I’ll say something dramatic as my last words. I take a deep breath. “I’m ready,” I say. “Goodbye, World.” Yeah, I know that is not exactly dramatic, but too bad. That’s all I’ve got.

            “Alright,” Andrea says. “Now, lay down in the middle of the floor, please.”

            I do as she says. Andrea takes the scythe in both hands.

            “Commence Eradication. Binding: begin.”

            A thick, black ribbon shoots from the tip of the scythe, which is taller than Andrea by at least two feet—Andrea is only about an inch taller than I am. Anyway, the black ribbon shoots from the tip of scythe and quickly wraps its way around my form three times, encasing my entire body. I hope I don’t suffocate before Andrea finishes killing me. Wait, I thought the Grim Reaper does this after the person dies. Maybe it works for the living, as well. I would ask, but I’m incapable of speech, because of this stupid ribbon.

            “Binding: cease. Extraction: begin.”

            I can’t see what Andrea’s doing because the ribbon has covered up my eyes. I’m really scared. I let out a blood-curdling scream as the scythe sinks into my chest and circles around and around my beating heart. My heart beats no more. The scythe scoops out my heart from inside my body, and I can feel it being disconnected and torn away. There’s probably so much blood and guts pouring out of me right now, and I’m pretty sure that I’m dead at this point.

            “Extraction: cease. Inscription: begin.”

            I can actually feel Andrea etching “DEATH” into my heart. I think I’m in more pain than a woman giving birth right now, but…I don’t cry or anything. I feel the pain, but, then again, I don’t feel it. Maybe this is how things are when you’re dead.

            “Inscription: cease. Ejection: begin.”

            I literally breathe out my soul, or at least, that’s how it feels. My soul is still bound in the black ribbon; however, my head and hair of my soul are not. Oh, gosh. My body is still on the floor in the black ribbon, with a bloodied hole where my heart would be. That is disgusting! Blood and guts to the maximum are pouring out. Hmm…so that’s what my insides look like. I look over to Andrea, who is holding the scythe, which has my dripping heart still stuck on the blade. Yuck.

            “Ejection: cease. Obsidian Bereavement: begin.”

            Andrea pulls out the locket—um, Obsidian Bereavement. It’s really weird, because it’s the outline of a heart-shaped locket, but it’s completely black so that it looks like there’s nothing there. And, I mean nothing. Absolutely nothing, as if someone cut a locket out of the construction paper of the world.

            Unbreakable chains shoot out of the Obsidian Bereavement and quickly shackle me. Then, I feel myself being sucked into it.

            “Obsidian Bereavement: cease. Transformation: begin.”

No sun☼shine here

            I land on my knees.  I look up to see a black hole, which closes up in two seconds. My wrists are no longer bound in the chains, but in the black ribbon. My legs, however, are free. I sit there on my knees for so long, it seems.

            I’m trapped in a vast, almost-clear blue glass cube. I’m in the very center of the cube, staring out at a rectangle of darkness that looks as if it’s supposed to be some kind of door or doorway. I’m guessing that’s Obsidian Bereavement’s exit. How do I know if I’m done Transforming? Oh, wait. Andrea said that I’ll look just like I did back when I was still alive. I fall forward, land on my hands, and look at myself through the reflective floor.

            My hair, still the same color, hangs down from my head and onto the floor. My skin is still the right shade. My nose, ears, mouth, and whatnot are all the same, except my eyes, which aren’t there. In place of them are two giant wholes of darkness. If this is so, how can I see? Ah, Obsidian Bereavement is so weird.

            I slowly rise to my bare feet and walk forward, coming closer and closer to the doorway of darkness. When I arrive at my destination in front of the doorway, I lift one hand and reach into it. It sucks me in like a vacuum, absorbing my whole body like a sponge. I’m gone like that.

No sun☼shine here

            “Transformation: cease. Dream Sequence: begin.”

            She fell further and further through the darkness, knowing that escape could not be granted. She would fall forever; it was Her punishment, after all. She could not see, nor hear, nor use any of Her other senses for that matter. All that She was capable of performing was conscious thought—or rather, subconscious thought, though She isn’t able to perceive that much as of yet. She’s really not among the living anymore, and She knows ‘tis but a dream. However, in Her current state of mind, She’s lost that memory.

            Anyway, none of that mattered now. She was just happy to be free of the world, all of that way behind Her. Downward, downward She fell until—

            “There it is,” She said. “There’s the light that my heart seeks to embrace. There’s the light of my future. Darkness cannot reign forever in my soul.”

            She fell faster and faster to Her everlasting sanctuary.

            “Thank you,” She breathed as the luminescence enshrouded the darkness, with Her in the midst of it all.

            And as She plummeted into the light, wings sprouted from Her shoulder blades. She dove and swooped through the cavern of pure light that had been waiting for Her. He was waiting for Her, as well.

            Finally, She sank to the ground, to the open arms of Her prince. Their silky, black hair sparkled with the glow of the cavern, although, Her hair had a reddish hue to it. Her eyes were purplish-blue, and His were a lustrous scarlet, like oxygen-filled blood straight from the beating, pumping heart. They were both dressed in white as pure and untainted as the cavern; She in a simple, short dress, and He in a tuxedo and billowing cape. She was lacking in height, but He was quite the opposite—not at least seven feet tall, but somewhere between  six and seven feet.

            “Hello,” said He.

            “Hello,” said She.

            “Come with me,” said He, and She agreed, taking His pale hand.

            He led her out of the cavern and into the radiant sunlight of the outside world within their little, safe haven. Their secret sunshine was a place of utmost serenity, where none could find, except them, of course. She followed Him through the snow-covered forest of snow-covered trees that made up the outside world of their sanctuary. They felt the chill, the bite of the surrounding atmosphere, yet it did not bother them.

            Each step She took created the delicate, resonating ‘ting, ting’ of tiny bells, and each step He took created the ‘dink, dink’ of a chorus of xylophones. Their pace hastened and hastened again into a run, the notes of their melody becoming faster and faster. Thousands of ghosts appeared between the trees with an orchestra of instruments. Some played violins and violas, while others played cellos and basses. His and Her steps synchronized and harmonized along with the Symphony of Ghosts. He and She began to sing. Music filled their ears, flowed through their veins, beat with their hearts, thought like minds, and sang with the wind. This was Her animated requiem.

            He and She sang. First it was He, and then it was she.

            “Morrow winds will tell the tale.”

            “Tale of the girl who’s heart did fail.”

            “Fail to find the love she sought.”

            “Sought to discover what she had naught.”

            “Naught is what they thought of her.”

            “Her life was a mistake, an error.”

            “Error from start unto end, birth unto death.”

            “Death was her purpose; away went her breath.”

            “Breath had stopped, and so had her life.”

            “Life was over, but continued was her strife.”

            “Strife had in store for her to eradicate.”

            “Eradicate he who planned to annihilate.”

            “Annihilate good old Grim.”

            “Grim who ended lives and brought lost souls in.”

            “In the end, after she had sought.”

            “Sought to discover what she had naught.”

            “Naught was not what poor she got.”

            The requiem ended when She and He arrived at a small clearing with a small waterfall. Placed in front of the waterfall was a lonely grave, which they walked up to. She stopped, but he kept going. He walked through the tombstone and into the waterfall. He then turned around and waved goodbye.

            “Wait, don’t go…” She called, but it was far too late.

            A black-cloaked figure came up behind Him and simply sliced through His torso. He fell to the ground; His soul was destroyed. The black-cloaked figure stepped over Him and walked toward Her.

            The black-cloaked figure was carrying a scythe, stained with His blood. He removed his hood to reveal those same glowing, scarlet eyes that He had. However, the black-cloaked figure had brown hair, instead of black.

            “Hello,” he said to Her. “Goodbye.”

            He lifted his scythe, and then—

Author's Note

"He" and "Her" are capitalized for a reason.