A Chance at Death: Part 1

So this week I'm doing something different. Instead of my usual rambling blog posts, I'm going to share a story that I wrote for an anthology themed in death. The story was not accepted so Faith suggested that I post it on my blog. I'm dividing this story into a three part series. Considering that I'm starting to write some flash fiction for Havok there may be longer series like this in the near future.

But now, without further ado, A Chance at Death- I hope you enjoy!

I’m not dead. And that surprises me.

Because I should be.

A groan slips unbidden from my lips as I struggle to lift my eyelids. It is as if they have already been weighed down by the coins that would have bought my passage into the underworld. Finally I manage a small crack and peer through it at the hazy world beyond. Perhaps there is something wrong with my eyes because everything is dark. But as I blink several times I realize that the problem isn’t with my eyes. Everything is dark.

A few more blinks and I finally recognize where I am. The Starlight Caverns. Named because of the hundreds of precious glowgems that dot the ceiling and wall providing a dim light.

It had been our hideout for the past several days as we waited for the army to arrive.

The question is, what am I doing here now instead of floating down the River of Tears to my soul’s final resting place?

I sit up, fighting a grimace at the sharp stab of pain in my abdomen, but when I rub my hand across my midsection, I find no bandages. I don’t feel the dip of an open wound or even the familiar bump of a puckering scar. Just a phantom pain. A reminder that I had once been wounded. My body and my magic berating me, telling me that even if I am healed this time that I must be more careful.

Other than that, there is no evidence of what should have been a fatal wound. Someone healed me completely.

My eyes move around the small interior chamber of the cavern, seeking answers of how I lived

I freeze when my eyes land on him. The villain, the boy, the something more.

What is he doing here?

I don’t know why I bother asking the question, obviously his presence here is directly tied to the reason that I am here as well.

“H-Hade?” I gasp out, my voice slicing against my dry throat.

He grimaces and I wonder if the pounding in his head is worse today. I regret having talked. Then I remember that I’m supposed to be dead. I have bigger problems at the moment. “What have you done?”

The last thing I remember was the biting pain in my abdomen as I stabbed myself. I remember collapsing on my back and staring up at the sun one last time, wondering if there will be a sky in the Underworld. Then the pain stopped and I had closed my eyes.

I was dying, and yet here I am.

He glances away, unwilling to meet my gaze and I know that my suspicions were correct. He is solely responsible for the reason that I am still alive. I should have known better than to trust the villain of my story. Instead, I was fooled. When he came and begged me to help stop the destruction that was coming- that he was bringing- I believed him.

What sort of fool am I?

And worse yet, so many people had died for my foolishness.

“You didn’t mean any of it did you?” I ask, I can’t muster up the strength to feel angry, just hollow. My eyelids droop low. I am so, so tired I just want to lie down. Coming back from death is exhausting. But more than that, the despair is worse. All my life has lead up to one moment. Just one moment. Now that moment is gone and yet here I still am.

All because I had trusted a villain with sad eyes and an urgent plea. I curl my fingers into a fist.

Now the anger comes.

“You didn’t really want my help. You only wanted to get close enough to me to figure out a way to stop me. How could I believe you?” I cry, I don’t care how it hurts his head even as he recoils into the wall opposite me. I slam the palm of my hand against the slab of rock that I had woken up lying on.

My magic races down my arm trying to heal any damage I might have done to the delicate bones. I ignore it and the guilt at the familiar rush of light and warmth in my veins. I had tried to betray my magic. And yet here it still is, my ever constant companion, unaware that the wound that had nearly killed me was caused by my own hands. I had stabbed myself in an attempt to bleed my magic out for the rest of the world to feast upon it.

It would have risen to my last request. Wipe out the army of Tibernans attacking. Save the village.

But with me still alive, the village was never saved.

To be continued...

That's all for this week! Tune in next week for the second part. What did you all think of this? Would you like me to publish more short stories on my blog in the future?