The Stuff of Nightmares [bocadelinferno]
“I have decided to grant your request.”
I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding; after weeks of asking, begging, pleading, and demanding, they were letting me go back. Back to living, back to Earth...back to Faith. My Slayer. I hoped she hadn’t got into too much trouble without me, and that I wouldn’t have too much trouble finding her.
“However, there are a few conditions that will be placed upon your return.” The ivory-robed being gestured to one of its attendants, who produced a thin book - about the size and thickness of a magazine, from the look of it - and presented it to its master. The head being repeated the gesture; a second attendant stepped forward and presented the master with a stone knife. Opening the book, the master waved a gloved hand over the first page. “Step forward, you who wish for mortality once more, and grasp the knife.”
The being nodded slowly as I obeyed seemingly pleased. “Draw the blade over the lines of your left palm.” I was to sign in blood, then. Extremely binding, but worth it. I clenched my teeth and began drawing the knife across my hand. Fate...head...life....heart.... The cuts were wide and the blood welled up quickly; I made a fist, as much to slow the bleeding as to coat my fingers with the blood. The being turned the book toward me. Writing - part of my contract, apparently - had appeared when he’d waved his hand.
“These are the terms: you may return to life, but you shall be as you would be had you survived your death. You will not be as you are here, nor as you were the day before you left your world. Do you sign?”
I could live with whatever that turned out to be. Pressing my bleeding hand to the blank section of the page, I said, “I sign.”
The being turned the page. “These are the terms: you may return to life, but you shall know again the horror of your death. You shall bear the memory and it may, perhaps, haunt you. Do you sign?”
After a moment’s hesitation, I pressed my hand to the page. “I sign.” I had known horrors before; I could face my own demons.
Another page. “These are the terms: you may return to life, but half of your remaining lifespan will be forfeit. Do you sign?”
I cupped my right hand under my left to keep the blood from dripping onto the page. “’Remaining lifespan’,” I repeated. “Clarify that, please.” Always read the fine print; I needed to know what I would be getting into if I signed.
The master nodded slowly. “You are wise to ask, human. Here it means the years you would have remained on Earth had you not met a violent end. I cannot tell you exactly how long; that power is not mine, but the time you have spent here will not be counted against you. Now. Do you sign?”
“I sign.” A gamble, perhaps, but a risk worth taking.
The being turned another page. The writing on this one was larger than what had been on the other pages. “These are the terms: you may return to life, but should you once again meet with an end that sends you to this realm, you shall not be able to leave again. Do you sign?”
Lovely. Must remember not to get killed, then. I pressed my hand to the page, saying once more, “I sign.”
Standing, the being tore the pages that I had not signed from the book and laid them on the ground between us. It wiped its gloved fingertips over my bleeding palm, which made my hand hurt like hell, and drew a circle around the pages; the being waved its hand over the circle and the blood flowed toward the pages and didn’t stop until it had completely soaked them. Another wave of the being’s hand and the pages liquefied, leaving behind what acted like a pond, albeit a very small one, of blood.
Which the being gestured for me to step into. “This portal will return you to life and to Earth,” it said. “You will be returned near the place of your death. I cannot, however, guarantee anything after you land, aside from those things stated in the agreement you have signed. Farewell, and may you find what you seek.”
I took a deep breath and stepped into the circle. Then everything went black.
* * * * *
The knife rips a line down my torso, all the way from just below the hollow of my throat to my navel. I bite down on my lip as I scream, straining with what little strength I have left against the dagger that has my least damaged arm - the other shoulder's dislocated and the upper arm and forearm are good examples of open fractures - penned to the wooden floor. I wonder for an instant if that was what crucifiction felt like before he twists the knife in my belly.
"Fucking bastard!" It should be a howl but it's a wail.
My tormenter only laughs as he clamps one cloven hand over my mouth, leering down at me as he repeats the cut, this time in reverse and much deeper. The blade grates against my ribs and I can barely breath for the pain.
He wipes the blade off on my throat; I'm surprised when he doesn't slit it. He reaches into my chest - dear God in Heaven that hurts! - and starts breaking my ribs. If it wasn't for the pain, I think I'd feel more nauseous than I do.
Oh God...he just lifted out my sternum...I can see my heart...can't look at it. Can't look at him. From the corner of my eye, I see him pick the knife up. No...no more...don't-
He plunges the knife through my right lung and into the floor. I scream again, but it's not much because I can't get the air for it. I cough and taste blood - why won't he just go on and finish me?
Growling and grinning, he bares his fangs, holding his mouth just above my throat...death is near...oh God, he's got his hand on my heart...tugging on it slowly...make it stop, make him stop...
I glance around, frantic, what to see last before I die...oh, dear God, no. My eyes land on Faith...damn it, girl, run, I want to scream, yell at her to get out...I try but I can't because his teath are in my throat...he's not even really feeding, just...tearing...all I can do is gurgle, God it hurts...mouth filling with blood, feel it on my cheeks...
OH GOD, HE'S RIPPED IT OUT...my heart's...in his hand...dieing...run....Faith
I sat bolt upright, shaking uncontrolably. It was dark...and it was raining. I struggled to my feet only to fall to my knees again, retching. In a moment I stood again, more slowly and forced myself to begin walking. I wiped the rain from my face and looked around.
Oh...God. There was the house... I shuddered but stumbled towards it. Anything to get out of the damned cold rain. For sale sign, faded at that, in the yard. Empty then. Good.
I stumbled to the backdoor and tried the nob: locked, I should have known. I pulled my hand inside my sleeve andand rammed it through the window. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, I felt around for the catch, opening it when I found it. I crawled in, landing hard on my back on the floor. I managed to get away from the window enough so the rain coming in no longer reached me and then collapsed, exhausted. Then everything went black again.