A Deadly Love

Mortem

She was suffering, always suffering. A rusty knife was thrust into her innocent flesh and I could do nothing to save help her without seeing her die. My only love screeched and cried at my feet.

How did I get there? How could I ever imagine the this fate, the one only my creator new? Who else could have seen it coming? That first morning started as every other, me looking in the mirror, grimacing at my reflection. Cold, dead, black eyes stared at me under midnight hair. Bone white skin provided a stark contrast. Truly I could only be described as the living dead.

I sat looking over my list in the dim light of my dining room already feeling a headache nesting in the back of my skull as I saw all the work I had waiting.

No, I would not say I love my job. It is not coveted by any earthly or unearthly creatures, half of them probably don't know or believe I exist, let alone that my job does. Needless to say that means I’m kept very busy, not that I really have a life anyway.

So, sighing I took a long swig of steamy, black coffee and set off to my first house in Silverthorne.

It was a cool dawn, the sun just barely peeking out from behind some mountains, I glided along, blending easily into the breeze, a mere shadow in this small city, until I came to a cul-de-sac surrounded by a lush, green forest, a distant stream trickled like a autumn morning soundtrack. Silently, I made my way into the house. As soon as I entered, I could hear soft weeping. I rolled my eyes, the girls always cry. It was getting really old.

Slowly, I searched the house, letting my fingers graze the walls. My eyes squeezed tightly shut in consentration and I listened...ahhh. I went down the left hall and unlocked the basement door, the only thing in between and girl I came here for. What I saw at the bottom of the stairs shocked me.

The girl, Juliet Vita Smith, was not the one crying. Sure, she head tears streaming down her pale cheeks, but she held a sobbing 8 year old boy. The most surprising thing, thoughm, was that even though she bled profusely from her chest, she comforted the child, smiling, singing to him even. That stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Julie..." The boy whimpered.

After a beat of hesitation, Juliet took a shaky breath in and answered, forcing her voice to sound calm and pleasant, "Yeah Cole?"

I stood quiet as a mouse, listening.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

A small smile from the girl, "Yes." Then she kissed the child's forehead, telling him not to worry.

My black heart broke.

Juliet knew she was going to die. I could see it in her shiney, wet, emerald green eyes. She tried to mask the pain, the fear for the sake of the boy that lay quivering in her arms, but she knew her fate. And she was afraid.

I sucked in a hollow breath and her gaze flickered up to me. Dark brunette hair stuck to her clammy face and cascaded down her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall. I stood there, staring at her simple beauty for a long moment, marveling at her bravery, then turned, and for the first time in my existence, walked away.

Juliet

It all happened so fast. All I remember is hearing Cole yell for me, so I ran down to him. Vincent stood there, holding a gun, so I jumped in front of my little brother to block him, then BAM I was on the floor with a bullet hole in my chest and Cole was shaking in the corner. Vincent left then and locked my little brother and I in the basement.

As soon as Vincent was gone, Cole rushed over to me, crying hysterically. I scooped him up in my arms, wincing at the ungodly fire radiating through my torso. Cole's face was white as a ghost's, so I took in a deep (painful) breath and pulled myself together. I sang to him softly, assuring him constantly that everything was okay, and that I was going to be all right.

Then I heard someone.

I looked up to see a man, who looked a few years older than me, 19 or 20 maybe, but his eyes seemed as if they had seen all the tragedies of this world over and over again. Our eyes locked for what seemed like hours, then he just turned and left me, dying and consumed by fear.

The pain turned excruciating and all together unbareable at that point. It felt as if someone was stabbing me with a sword made of flames then twisted it deeper and deeper. I couldn't hold on anymore, it was to much to bear. So, I let my brain snap and feeling like I was floating, and the awful pain dulled. The last ting I remember hearing was Cole's cry, "Julie! No!" then utter, peaceful blackness.

* * *

I woke up to a bright light in a sterile white room. An irritating, high pitched beeping noise filled my ears and made my already aching head throb. I tried to rub my sweaty face but something pulled on my arms. I looked down and gasped. An IV was stuck in my hand, I was in the hospital.

I was alive.

I shot up, groaning at the protest of my ribs. A nurse who was fiddling with some tubes and such whipped her head around to me and squealed with delighted surprise. She looked about 50 with dyed, curly strawberry blonde hair and a bit pudgy. She waddled over to me and shoved a glass of cool water in my hands. Realizing for the first time how thirsty I was, I immediately gulped it down, sputtering and gasping when I was done. Nurse Joy checked my pulse, felt my forehead and studied my bandages while asking, "How are you feeling, Hon?"

It took me a minute but I finally rasped quietly, "Fine, I guess. I'm alive." The nurse chuckled and told me how lucky I was that the bullet just missed my heart, but I had some broken and bruised ribs and I lost a lot of blood.

I nodded only half paying attention. "Excuse me, miss, " I croaked then cleared my throat and restarted, "Miss, do you know where my family is. I really want to see my little brother Cole."

Nurse Joy nodded and bounced away, leaving me alone in this terrifyingly blank room.

Or that’s what I thought until I saw him.

He stood by the small plastic chair to my right staring at me with piercing black eyes. He was tall and slender, but I could tell he had muscle, and he looked extremely pale, nearly a white as the walls. He was the same man from the morning I was shot.

"Who are you?" I asked in a small whisper.

No answer.

I tried again, louder this time, "Who are you?"

After a few seconds he answered in a low voice, "Mortem." 'Interesting name,' I thought silently.

"Why didn't you help me?"

Mortem laughed darkly, "You should be asking why I didn't kill you."

I stared at him in shock, but all of the sudden he disappeared, just as my little brother yelled out, “Julie!” And slammed into me, hugging me tight. My ribs ac,hed at the pressure but I was too relieved that Cole was here, safe with me to care. My dad and my step mom came up to me, smiling and saying how happy they were that I pulled through. My step mom kissed my cheek and the pair left.

I sure didn’t have an evil step mother.

I had and evil step brother.

* * *

Mortem

The night they released Juliet from the hospital, I just couldn’t resist, I had to see her.

Around midnight I crept into her window and watched her sleep. Her deep brown hair had a tint of auburn in it, her face ashen, but utterly beautiful and serene in sleep. Her tired eyes had rings of dusty purple under them, she breathed lightly but I knew that it taxed her.

An hour or so later, she stirred in her sleep and her eyes fluttered open once again to meet the face of death. I expected her to jump, yelp, scream, gasp or do something, but she just laid there calmly, staring right back at me.

“Hello.” She finally breathed, completely nonchalant. I nodded once.

She then asked the same question she had in the hospital, “Who are you?”

I knew what she meant but I answered just the same, “Mortem.”

Juliet rolled her eyes, “Not your name. I’m not stupid. You didn’t help a bleeding, dying girl but for some reason you happened to wander into her basement. Oh, and you sure sounded like you were going to kill me. What are you, some mass murderer?” She gave me a hard look, “The truth, please.”

I opened my mouth to tell her some brilliant lie about being a CPS worker or, like she said, a killer, but the way she stared at me with those knowing green eyes took away all my false words. Therefore, taking a deep breath, I told her the simple truth, “I am death.”

Her eyes shot wide opened, her breath caught in her throat, but after a split second she composed herself and gestured for me to continue with just the littlest bit of skepticism touching her features.

“Me and a handful of others like myself were put on this earth by God years and years ago, ever since the time of Adam and Eve. We got the job of guiding lost souls of the dead to Heaven, Hell or wherever the Creator says they should go. When I was in your basement I was supposed to transport you to the next life. But when I saw you holding back your pain for that child, and your so young and innocent and beautiful…I just couldn’t do it. This job has always been gruesome, but I have never been moved like that.”

Juliet blushed ever so slightly. “Thank you.” she whispered, hesitantly, reaching out to lay a hand on my arm. I stepped back and Juliet dropped her hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but then a teenage boy stumbled into her room. Eyes wide with fear, Juliet backed up to the wall behind her bed and shifted her gaze between me and the boy.

“Hey Julesie,” The boy laughed, hiccupping every now and then. Juliet’s nose crinkled at the stench of alcohol in the room.

The boy staggered over to Juliet and yanked her to her feet by her creamy neck. Furious, I moved toward the two but then my sense came back and my feet glued themselves to the floor.

Juliet gagged for lack of breath and clawed at her attacker’s hands. He only tightened his grip and slapped her hard across the face. The boy flung her to the ground, coughing and sputtering. She struggled to her knees and looked at me pleadingly. The boy sent a hard kick to her side causing her to fall back over. Then her pulled her back up.

“Vincent,” Juliet whimpered, “please let me go-” She got her wish. Vincent threw her toward the bed. Her head hit night stand right next to it making a loud cracking noise. She slumped forward, knocked out cold. Her tormentor left as fast as he came, slamming the door on his way out.

“Juliet!” I yelled, not afraid of anyone hearing me; I knew the couldn’t. “Juliet wake up! C’mon.” Blood started to pool on the floor behind her. If I didn’t get her to come to she’d end up in the ER again, and I couldn’t shake her without killing her, and no one in this house was close enough to death to hear me if I called. I let out a huff of breath and let my mouth hover right next to her ear, “Juliet! Open your eyes!” I shouted at her over and over, knowing for the first time how much it would hurt to never see her open those beautiful emerald eyes again.

Desperate, I grabbed a pillow off her bed and threw it at her. “Juliet! Wake up!!”

Finally, she stirred, blinking several times. “What happened?” She mumbled sleepily.

“You hit your head. You need to bandage it before you lose even more blood. Now!”

She looked at the shallow red puddle around her and quickly struggled to her feet, leaning heavily on the bed post. She made her way to the bathroom, shaking and stumbling often. Soon enough though, she had cleaned her wound, bandaged it, and gotten something to drink.

Juliet hobbled back to bed and breathed heavily, winded from the effort.

“Why didn’t you stop him, why didn’t you help me. You spare my life but you spare me no pain? Why?” She hissed at me, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

At that moment I hated myself.

“I’m sorry. I…I just….I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”

Juliet bit her lip and closed her eyes against a river of tears. I had to make her understand that I didn’t want to hurt her. While thinking of how to show Juliet without hurtin her, I spotted a rose on a shelf and walked over to it.

“Juliet, open your eyes.” After a moments hesitation she did. Gently, I brushed my fingers against the soft, crimson petals of the flower and it wilted instantly. Juliet's face was shocked and she looked up at me.

“That, my dear, is why I couldn’t help you.” And just as she was about to say something I disappeared back into my own dim dining room.

Juliet…

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, both from when I hit it and from thinking of Mortem. Did I really talk to a…a death angel or whatever he said he was, or did I dream it all. ‘Well’ I thought feeling the lump on my head, ‘I sure didn’t dream this. Hallucination maybe?’ But who was I kidding. I believed every word he said.

And once you see death, you can’t get rid of it.

I kept seeing him everywhere. At school, in my room, even in the basement when my step brother would beat me, Mortem was there. When he saw what Vincent did to me, his eyes were like an uncontrolled wildfire and his fingers twitched with yearning. I knew he wanted to help me but he couldn’t. And that killed him.

When we could be alone, we talked about life and death, what each were like, since he’s never been alive and I had never been dead.

One day after a particularly bad beating from Vincent, I was fingering my new black eye and Mortem appeared behind me, his eyes filled with rage.

“How could he do this to you?” He growled, looking at the red finger prints on my neck, “I can’t wait until the day I get to drag his worthless, disgrace of a soul to Hell!”

I turned to him, shocked.

“What?” He asked, bewildered, “How can you not want him to die and suffer, after all the years her tortured you?”

“I can take it.” I whispered.

“But can your brother? Cole, remember him?” It knocked the breath out of me when he mentioned my brother and that was evindent on my face, but he continued, “You may be able to handle this abuse, but he can’t. And believe me, once you die, or have to be put in the hospital for life, Vincent will just move on to Cole, and he isn’t a s strong as you, Juliet. You know that better than I !”

“I know!” I cried, falling to my knees, sobbing, “I Know…”

A moment of silence passed before Mortem knelt next to me, “Juliet, I’m sorry. I just can’t stand seeing him hurt you like that. I love you, and I don’t want to see you suffer.”

I froze. He…loved me? I looked into his eyes to see if he lied, but only saw adoration, and in that moment I knew I loved him too.

Closing my eyes, I leaned into him. His cold, colorless lips hovered agonizingly close to my mine. My skin tingled with anticipation, his ragged breath was cool on my flushed cheek.

“Juliet, no.” He said, voice restrained.

“Why?” I begged hopelesy.

“You know it will kill you.”

I looked into his black eyes, “I’d die for you.”

He shook his head, “No, I’m not going to let you die for our selfish desires.”

“Why? What do I have to live for? Tell me.”

My question hung in the air and after a few seconds I turned away from him. Finally, he whispered quietly, “You’re brother.”

Again, that got to me. I turned to face him but he was already gone. I cried because of a whole new pain then.

Separation.

Mortem

Life was good, even as I longed for Juliet. She knew I took her mother away, we couldn’t touch, I couldn’t dry her tears or save her from her step- brother’s abuse. But She still loved me. And I loved her.

When I stood by Juliet, she was stronger. Every time Vincent hit her, I would yell out how brave she, ho beautiful, and that I loved her, adored her, cherished her.

It pleased me to watch her live. I would laugh when she would go crazy over homework or think she lost an essay, but it was right in front of her. I was content when I was with her, and for the first time, I truly enjoyed existing.

But those days didn’t last long.

Juliet

Vincent circled me, teasingly. I shuddered at his beer tinted breath. Cole lay unconscious in the corner. ‘Where is Mortem?” I thought desperately as my eyes darted from wall to wall. I couldn’t do this without him, I needed him.

Vincent hit me hard across the face. The bitrer taste of coppery blood took over my mouth. I gasped and lifted my hand to my cheek but he caught my wrist and twisted my arm across my back until I felt a harsh, severe snap. I yelped in pain. Tears stung my eyes and my step- brother laughed menacingly. I begged for him to stop. Instead he yanked me face up to his by my hair. I cried out, but he cut me off with a rough kiss. I pushed away, again he chuckled.

“Oh Julie, Jule, Jules.” He sighed and smiled at me. Oh God, where was mortem. Then I felt a sharp impact in my stomach.

I screamed.

Mortem

Just as I arrived at her house, I heard Juliet’s agonized shriek. That could only mean one thing.

Vincent.

I Ran down to the basement just as Vincent dropped Juliet’s convulsing body to the unforgiving floor.

“No!” I yelled, and knelt beside my bleeding love. Liquid crimson flowed from an angry would in Juliet's stomach like a gothic waterfall. A knife protruded grotesquely from her soft, ivory flesh , staining it and her shirt a deep, dark red. She writhed in pain and screeched, sobbing and gasping hysterically. Her right arm was limp and turning purple. Her face was clammy and pale like the first time I saw her in the basement, so tragically beautiful, but this time she didn’t have to hide her torture and misery for anyone. I felt sick looking at her and knowing I could do nothing to ease her suffering.

Unless…

That was what she wanted, or at least what she did a few weeks ago, but could I really ask something this serious and life changing of her? Again, Juliet let out a shriek of pain. I squeezed my dead eyes shut and took a deep breath. I would not let her endure this again.

“Juliet!” I shouted, willing her to meet my gaze and focus. “Juliet, can you hear me?” After a moment, she managed a weak nod. “Listen, this pain can end. You can come with me, forever. All you have to do is take my hand. Or, if you want, I will let you live. It's your choice.”

“Save me!” She screamed, and another spasm racked through her body.

My heart sank, of course she would want to live. With my head hung I started to walk away.

But then I heard it. The softest, frailest voice whispered, “Wait.” So quiet that I almost thought it didn’t happen, and I almost didn’t turn around.

But it did happen, and I turned. What I saw shocked me.

Juliet lifted her hand.