by Nick Stead
“Once all your vital functions stop, your body will automatically shift back to human form to try and heal itself, but my witchcraft will prevent them starting up again. It will be unpleasant. You should be prepared for the state of panic it’s going to instinctively put you in, before you lose consciousness and reach that place where the reaper waits.”
“Just get on with it.”
“This is especially dangerous without the proper tools to guide such power,” she continued. “Though you can take comfort from the fact I just performed this on myself and came back from the very brink, despite the reaper’s best efforts to drag me over. If you’re sure this is what you want, then I’ll do as you wish.”
“I have to. Wouldn’t you do the same for your sister?”
She didn’t answer my question but she didn’t really have to, since her price to attempt something so risky for Amy’s life had been for me to save Lady Sarah. “I understand, though I wish it could be otherwise. We can only hope it will not change the events I have foreseen. Be careful, and as our new friend said, don’t let Death take you without a fight!”
With that, a surge of power seemed to pass through her hand into my chest. My understanding of witchcraft up to that point had been that they needed to chant the words of a spell or perform a ritual of some kind to work their magic (or both) but this seemed to be something that went beyond words, though where the power came from or how she controlled it I couldn’t even begin to guess at. Presumably she could have used a ritual to help work the magic, judging from what she’d said about having the proper tools to guide it, but there evidently didn’t need to be a ritual to conjure the power in the first place. I supposed that was as well, since she probably wouldn’t have been able to put herself in the state she was placing my body in if it had required an incantation or anything, but on some level I was a little unnerved to learn she could call on such power without the tools of her craft or anything. Then the power took hold of my vulnerable flesh and such thoughts were driven from my mind.
A feeling of pressure descended on my chest, some invisible force crushing the life from my body. Even with Selina’s warning, I’m not sure anything could have fully prepared me for the trauma of the experience which was definitely on a par with being shot through the heart, if not worse. I’d been winded before and I had that sensation again of having all the breath forced from my lungs, but the moments dragged by and the feeling of a weight on my ribcage never lessened, preventing me from taking a gulp of fresh air. Terror shot through me as my survival instincts sent me into a panic, just as the witch had said would happen.
My body screamed for fresh oxygen but no amount of willpower could overcome the magic constricting my organs and preventing them functioning, my lungs refusing to swell and breathe in more. That unseen power also put a stop to the frantic beating of my heart, squeezing until it could pump no more. I tried to move my limbs, instinct driving me to fight back, but another stab of cold terror went through me as I realised I was paralysed. Utterly at the witch’s mercy, there would have been nothing I could have done if she’d wanted to kill me for real. I tried to remind myself of why I was putting my body through this latest hardship, tried to think of Amy and the need to save her, but such primal instincts as those connected to survival left little room for rational thought. I would have been thrashing in the grip of such power if I hadn’t been rendered completely immobile. Then the transformation kicked in and I knew true agony.
I couldn’t even scream as the bone of my skull ground back in on itself so that my snout shrank back into my face and the black wetness of my lupine nose turned pink and dry, reshaping itself into human nostrils. Skin itched while the fur of my handsome wolf pelt receded, leaving only the sparse covering of dark hairs that belonged to my human form. The cartilage of my ears slid down the side of my head and became rounded and my eyes stung as the amber fires gave way to the greenish brown I’d been born with. But all those changes had long since become familiar and the pain manageable after being forced to shift between human and wolf form so often in the year and a bit I’d been a werewolf. It was in my chest cavity where the real torment raged, the pressure feeling caused by Selina’s witchcraft combining with the pressure I’d often felt as part of the transformation whenever my internal organs altered to take on the different anatomy of my human and wolf forms.
Despite my body being mostly humanoid in my hybrid form, my organs seemed to be straining against Selina’s power as part of the transformation. And yet, for all that regenerative ability that went right down to a cellular level, for the first time since becoming a werewolf it seemed my lycanthropic healing had met its match. It felt like my heart and lungs were struggling against the chains of witchcraft keeping them from functioning but to no avail – my heart remained still and dead, my lungs deflated and incapable of taking any more breaths. The transformation completed but there was no surge of fresh power that should have come from its restorative powers, even though I’d reverted to my weaker human form. Instead blackness closed in as my brain lost its hold on consciousness due to the lack of oxygen, my eyes rolled up into my skull and I slipped away from the earthly realm.
I found myself back out on the moors where I should have died after the bullet had pierced my heart. Just behind me was a blinding white light which I assumed represented consciousness and the way back to life. Ahead there was the stretch of moorland just as I remembered it from the earthly plane, except it ended in darkness, so complete that I could see nothing of what lay beyond, if indeed there was anything beyond for me. That blackness was surely the way to death, and at its very edge there stood a figure who had to be the reaper, though he didn’t have the face of Death which I’d been expecting to see. Rather than the robed, skeletal figure I’d seen before (even if it was only ever dreams and hallucinations), he resembled the same grizzled older Slayer who’d almost succeeded in killing me with that fateful gunshot to my chest, if Selina hadn’t intervened. And he was pointing a gun at me just as he had that day on the mortal plane, but he also had hold of Amy’s arm in his other hand. She looked pale and sickly as if she was practically a corpse already, just like her physical body. Her soul or consciousness or whatever it was the reaper had hold of (if there was even a difference between the two) didn’t seem to have any awareness of its surroundings, her eyes dull and not focussing on anything in particular, her body limp in the reaper’s grasp and not offering any resistance.
Even though there was nothing to be seen in that darkness ahead, there were voices seemingly whispering from within. They weren’t the voices of tormented souls I’d sent to early graves seeking revenge like I might have expected, however. I didn’t recognise any of the voices in particular but they were soothing, whispering promises of an eternity blissfully free of all my earthly troubles, even though I knew full well that if I did face some kind of afterlife and not oblivion, I would never be allowed to rest in peace. But even knowing that, I still felt drawn to that darkness, and I knew there was a very real risk that I might be seduced by those ghostly voices if I wasn’t careful.
Feet that were closer to lupine paws than those of a human began to carry me forward with barely a conscious thought, and I realised then that I was back in my hybrid form. I didn’t know if that was symbolic of my true nature as a werewolf – a creature who would never be completely human or completely wolf but always caught somewhere in between – or whether it was my consciousness giving itself the best chance it could against one of the most powerful forces of nature, but either way it seemed fitting. As did Death’s chosen form and the grounds we were meeting on, I supposed. You could say I’d cheated him twice since I’d had to die to lycanthropy and be reborn for the curse to take hold and make me a werewolf, but it must have been surviving the mortal wound to my heart that stung the most. If I was going to go with him this time, it felt right that it would be in the same setting where he should have been allowed to take me before.
I forced my feet to stop j
ust short of the gaping blackness and tried to ignore the pull of the voices, focussing on my sister’s weak form and the being holding on to her. My anger might have taken over at the sight of Amy in his clutches if I’d let it, but this was Death himself. He might not look like the typical grim reaper I’d been so obsessed with as a human and I’d so admired in gothic artwork, but he was still the most powerful being I’d met to date. If anyone had ever deserved my respect, it was surely him, and I dipped my head in a gesture of reverence.
“I’m told you wanted my life in return for my sister, so here I am,” I said.
“Yes, though I was not entirely convinced you would come. The lengths to which you mortals will go for family still amazes me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t reply to it directly but instead asked “And there is nothing else I can offer you besides my own life?”
“You should belong to me already. Nature hangs in a delicate balance, and the very existence of the undead upsets that balance. Releasing my hold on any creature when their time comes is one thing, and it is a thing I do not do lightly, but allowing those with no natural end to slip through my grasp? It is bad enough that you can exist for centuries outside of the natural balance, without your kind using other means to escape any hold I may be granted over you. We both know you should have met your end on this moorland. Now you have the chance to put things right and restore some of that natural balance between life and death.”
“And what about humanity, do they not upset that balance? With their technology and their constant pursuit to cheat you of their natural end, and the way they keep on overpopulating the planet at the expense of nature. Surely the existence of we undead is a good thing, to help keep their numbers in check?”
The likeness of the older Slayer tilted his head, seeming to consider me. “I concede you make a good point, but humans must still succumb to me eventually, and to Time. Their lives are still relatively short and nature has a way of repairing itself. All it takes is one virus to mutate into something their drugs can’t fight and spread across the planet, and the natural balance is restored. You unnatural creatures are not so easily brought to your knees and your existence continues to threaten the balance it is my duty to keep.”
“Okay,” I answered, resigning myself to having to make that ultimate sacrifice to save my sister. “But if I’m going to go with you, first let Amy go so I can be sure she’s safe. I mean, if I allow you to take hold of me while you still have hold of her, how do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain and release her as promised?”
That seemed to amuse him. “You mortals are so full of distrust. But by that same token, if I let your sister go, how do I know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain and come with me?”
“You don’t,” I admitted. “Maybe I’ll grab my sister and run or maybe once she passes back into the light I’ll turn and fight you. Maybe I’ll even win – after all, Selina already successfully fought free of your grasp so who’s to say I can’t do the same?”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I let her escape with the intent of luring you here.”
I felt that sinking feeling in my stomach again but I couldn’t just give up.
“Then how about you let her go and we fight, if you’re so confident you’ll win?”
Glowing red eyes appeared at my side, the powerful form of the barghest materialising beside me. New hope ignited at the sight of Selina’s familiar. I didn’t for one minute expect the spirit dog to be capable of beating Death himself, but maybe it could buy me enough time to get away. And its presence surely meant that my allies were doing everything they could on the mortal plane, which filled me with an unfamiliar warmth, a feeling I’d become unaccustomed to in my months of exile and isolation.
Death narrowed his eyes. “It looks like you’re not going to give me a choice.”
“Can you blame me for wanting to fight to stay alive? I don’t want to make a move until you release Amy though. Please, let my sister go. Surely the life of one mortal human isn’t going to cause too much damage to the cosmos in the grand scheme of things. Or we can stay stuck in this stalemate but what good does that do any of us? Or you could decide to claim her life here and now but then you’ll only be giving me more of an edge when my rage rises up, and if it’s me you really want then why risk me escaping again? I’m sure you’re well aware of the damage I can do when driven by anger and the need for vengeance.”
I knew my argument was weak in the face of his considerable power and that in reality there was nothing to stop him dragging my sister into that final darkness gaping behind them now we’d established I wasn’t going to go willingly into the void, but I prayed he would choose to let her go. Attacking him could put Amy at risk so I didn’t really want to instigate the fight until she was safe, and luckily the barghest seemed to be waiting for me to make a move before it attacked. Though I also knew if the reaper didn’t release his hold on her then I might not have any other option.
Several tense filled moments went by before finally Death said “Very well.”
His fist opened, Amy’s arm falling to her side and the rest of her limp body collapsing to the ground. Her eyes still remained apparently unseeing as she laid there, showing no indication of awakening from this kind of living death she seemed to be stuck in. I’d hoped she’d recover and run straight for the light but it seemed she was too far gone, still trapped in that state between life and death even without the reaper physically (so to speak) having a hold on her. I should have known it was never going to be that easy but inwardly I cursed at the added challenge, knowing full well the odds of me escaping back through the light with her were slim to none, even with the barghest’s help. Then Death made his move to claim me once and for all and the fight for my life (literally!) began.
Chapter Nineteen – Fight for Life
Powerful though Death himself undoubtedly was, the gun was just for show or symbolism or whatever. It obviously couldn’t actually fire a bullet capable of sending me into the darkness or the reaper would surely have tried, and I guessed Selina’s power granted me a strong enough footing on that patch of ground that stood between life and death that prevented him from simply snuffing me out like he perhaps otherwise would have done (with the use of that symbolic gun or otherwise). Instead the likeness of the Slayer’s eyes fixed on me, the colour of cold grey winter skies but with something pulsing through them which wouldn’t have been possible in their mortal counterpart. It put me in mind of lightning beginning to streak across the sky, visible only as flashes in the clouds while the storm builds only to unleash its true power in bolts of electricity lancing down to earth.
He lunged forward, swinging the gun in his hand which was lengthening into that iconic weapon most people associated with any personification of death – a scythe to reap the souls of mortals. I barely managed to duck out of the path of its blade, outclassed yet again when it came to my opponent’s speed and strength. Keeping my eyes fixed on my adversary in an attempt to stay one step ahead, I watched with morbid fascination as the human mask he’d been wearing began to rot away. Greying flesh soon appeared sunken, skin clinging tightly to the bones beneath. The cartilage of his nose and ears just dissolved away into nothingness, as did his eyes and hair, and finally his skin went the same way, baring the chalky white of his skull. His clothes had been the same as I remembered the real Slayer wearing that day on the moors before they turned black, as if they too were going through some kind of necrosis. That blackness formed itself into the more familiar garb of Death’s robe, the skeletal face I’d been expecting all along grinning morbidly from within a shadowy cowl.
The grim reaper attacked again, and again I just managed to dodge the worst of the scythe’s arc without suffering a fatal injury, but I didn’t completely escape that time, the blade slicing through my upper arm and causing me to roar in pain. If it had been a mortal weapon I’d have suffered a mere flesh wound, but even though the scythe had done little more than ni
ck my bicep, somehow it cut much deeper and created fresh damage to the very fabric of my being, my soul if I still had one – as if that hadn’t been ripped and torn enough by my lycanthropy. It was more than a feeling of physical pain left in the blade’s wake, I could feel it was somehow spiritual as well. I knew then that one blow to my head or my chest would place me firmly in Death’s clutches and there would be no coming back that time, no more cheating him. My physical body back in the mortal realm would die and there’d be nothing Selina or any of the others could do.
I also found myself stepping dangerously close to the gaping blackness of the void, and I realised Death could just as easily push me through it and claim me that way as he could cut me down. He was well aware of his options and he pressed his attack, manoeuvring me closer and closer to the eternal darkness. I was given no chance to retaliate and even if I did get an opening to strike back, what could I possibly do to the one being who was literally an unstoppable force of nature?
With a growl, the barghest finally sprang into action, clamping its muscular jaws down on a bony arm and tugging with all its might. Death was pulled off balance and he was forced to turn and deal with the black shadow dog before he could resume his onslaught in his single-minded determination to sever my connection to the earthly plane. Not wasting any time, I took full advantage of the distraction and dived to where my sister still lay. She looked so small and frail in comparison to the powerful forms of the barghest and Death himself, and I thought it a small mercy that she still didn’t seem to be aware of what was currently going on since at least that meant she was spared the terror that the situation otherwise might have put her in.
