Page 67 of Remnants: Disruption
And they stand there.
Unaffected.
A barrier of thin red surrounds them as they stare back at me. After a moment, the barrier disappears and they take another step forward.
They’re taller than me. At least a few inches taller.
“Tell me why you are so willing to rush into death.”
With a scream, I launch myself at them. There’s nothing my powers can do. Nothing that can stop this person. This being.
A damned god.
But they simply catch me mid-leap, fingers hooked loosely around my neck. The weight of my body hangs below me as they lift me into the air. My feet dangle off the floor, and I start to feel the pressure around my neck. Tight yet not yet squeezing.
“Arya,” they whisper my name like it’s sacred somehow. “Tell me why you want to die so badly.”
“The fuck does it matter to you?” I hiss, feeling tears prick at my eyes.
Of course I’m fucking crying in this moment.
Without a word, a tendril of red curls around my head and presses at the release latch on the mask. The tendril then snares the beak of the mask and lifts it off my head. My loose braid uncurls as it falls.
“Just fucking kill me. Please,” I beg.
Begging for death. To finally stop hearing the way the undead have crowded around. Even now I can see them pushing in. All of them angry.
Angry at me. At the world. At whatever took them too soon. Even Revenant has appeared near his corpse. My eyes find him as he seems to dwell on his body.
The god follows my line of sight and tilts their head as they examine the corner of the room.
“What are you seeing?” they ask, turning back to me.
Tears fall freely now as I dangle loosely from their grip. The way their fingers press against the back of my head is almost soothing.
“Everyone,” I say, my voice shaky and lacking all the previous heat. “Everyone who’s ever died. Everyone who’s ever been murdered.”
“What do they say to you?” They don’t seem confused or surprised by my admission. Just curious.
“All sorts of stuff,” I scoff. “The other night they really wanted me to go through with slicing my own throat. I would have, too, if—”
“If?” they prompt.
“If I’d found my fucking knives,” I gasp, and they finally lower me to the floor. My knees shaking with waves of realization.
“Then I would have lost you before you could know the truth,” her voice comes smoother now. Regal, yet warm and inviting.
I work my jaw wordlessly as she drops her hood.
Not a god.
A goddess.
“I did not murder Malachi Blackwood,” Bloody Mary says, her stunning red eyes lit with a fire that I haven’t seen before tonight. “But I did eliminate Fyre and Revenant—they knew the price for their sins.”
Chapter 29
Damned
