"You failed," Jacky whispered to Kathleen as his hand moved around in her chest, snapping the arteries and sending blood spurting. "You know that? Your daughter, what's her name? Mina," he pronounced her name slowly, with venom and delight. "I'm going to find her, and when I do, I'm going to kill her. I am going to tear her apart."
A deafening bang echoed around the cavern. Cohen's head snapped towards the entrance of the cavern, and he drew a sharp breath.
Myrna stood at the entrance, her feet spread and her hands still holding her gun steady in front of her.
Jacky gave a wheeze, and then a cough. Cohen turned to look at him, and heard Niall gasp. Jacky looked confused. He pulled his hand from Kathleen's chest with a thick, sucking noise and touched it to his chest. It was hard to tell where Kathleen's blood ended and his began at first, until it began to seep out into the fabric of his hoodie. He gasped, and gave a wild, feral scream that cut off prematurely, then fell sideways with a thump that echoed through the room. Cohen instantly knew he was dead. He could see his eyes, glazed and distant. It was like looking into eternity.
"Jacky," whispered Niall, and Cohen grabbed him and held him tight. Niall was shaking all over. Myrna was there a moment later, grabbing and shaking Cohen by the shoulder, and he looked up at her. He felt as if his reflexes were slow, and everything was a little too bright.
"Tell me I've just shot the right person, Cohen," she said.
Cohen nodded wordlessly. He felt Niall stir and get up, rushing over to the bodies. There was blood pooling on the dirt floor, but he knelt in it, regardless.
"Niall," said Cohen tentatively, and Niall let out a sob.
"I know I'm awake now," he said. "This can't possibly be a dream." He looked at Cohen, his eyes red but focused. "They're coming now."
"I know," said Cohen. He felt a sob creeping up his throat, but he couldn't even piece together why. Not when there was so much crowding his consciousness. "You have to go."
"I have to destroy all of this," said Niall. "I have to, the Guild can't know what happened here. And you two, you both need to go right now."
"Niall, I don't want to lose you—"
"I know!" shouted Niall. "So you have to go right now. You both have to go and you have to pretend that none of this ever happened, and you were never involved with me. Cohen, listen." He touched his hands to Cohen's cheeks, and pressed their foreheads together. "Remember what you said? About us running away together?"
Cohen nodded; the misty fantasy of him and Niall together, far away and safe, sprung up again, fragile and hazy.
"It can only work if the Guild has no idea that you ever knew me, and no reason to think that you did."
"But..." Cohen's heart was racing again. He was thinking about how the Guild had tracked Niall and Jacky down, what they'd done to them, how they had used Kathleen's daughter against her. How they were part of the government. Part of everything. "Niall, that will never work. They'll know I'm connected to you. I bailed you out of jail. I came here with Myrna to help you. They'll see her memories. They'll see my memories. They've got me under surveillance, right? Under their control?"
"They have," said Niall. "But—"
"Then I don't have a choice," said Cohen. Tears were welling up in his eyes. This was never going to be all right. Nothing was. "Don't you see, Niall? They'll use me to get to you. At the very least they'll watch me forever to see if I ever contact you. And they might do worse. They might use me as bait. And Myrna, and Myrna's daughters." He glanced at Myrna, who was staring at him stonily. "And if I go with you, try to escape, they'll use my family. There's... there's nothing we can do."
Niall took a few steps back from Cohen. "You're right," he said. "Of course, you're right. There's only one thing to do, isn't there?" He glanced down at Kathleen and Jacky's bodies. "I have to turn myself in."
"What?" Cohen gasped, realising at once that he was right, while every fibre of his being rejected it. "You can't."
"Of course I can!" shouted Niall loudly. "I was willing to sacrifice everything to stop people from dying, wasn't I? Well, this is the result!" He stared at Cohen, and Cohen could see the fear in his eyes. "No," said Niall after a moment. "No, I've got a better idea." He looked at Myrna.
"What?" said Cohen. "What are you doing?"
"I don't want to go back there," said Niall levelly to Myrna. "I'd rather die. They'll use me to do things I don't want to do. They'll make me into something I'm not. Myrna, Jacky would rather have died. And so would I."
Myrna stared at him for a long moment. Then she unhitched her gun from her belt.
"No!" said Cohen. "Myrna, no, you can't!"
"I can." Myrna's face was still, her eyes dark. "I would do anything if it means protecting my daughters, Cohen."
"No." Cohen shook his head. "No, that's just like Kathleen. They're making you all like her."
"She's choosing to sacrifice one person for the lives of many," said Niall. His voice was shaking, his face devoid of colour. Cohen could see his lips trembling. More than anything he wanted to kiss them and make everything okay. "She's nothing like Kathleen."
"Well I'm not letting this happen," said Cohen. He glanced around, to the altar with the withered hearts, the bodies of Jacky and Kathleen on the floor. Kathleen's body was losing blood fast, the cavity of her chest ripped open, with her organs on full display. She didn't look real any more. And that was a good thing.
Cohen took a deep breath. Niall was looking at him, and he couldn't see that dead, hopeless look in his eyes, not for a moment more. He lunged at Kathleen's body and shoved his hand into her chest, tugging on the heart. Lucky Jacky had all but detached it already.
"Cohen!" Niall screamed and ran at him, but it was too late. Cohen had tugged the heart free and turned to the altar, slamming it down into the last alcove, next to the others. The room went dim. Cohen gasped as he felt the air sucked from his lungs. He drew a breath, but instead of air, something else flowed into him, like pure darkness. Then the pain began.
To say it was like nothing he had ever felt before would be an understatement. It was more than just pain. Sickness and darkness. Hatred that seemed not completely his own. His dysphoria rose to the surface, threatening to choke him, like a live beast burrowing into his soul. His body felt small and fragile and not enough to contain what was within him now.
Who has chained me?
The voice echoed in his head. The pain was so great that he couldn't feel or hear anything, but it didn't matter. This was inside him, so much inside him that he felt his body might break at any moment.
It wasn't me, he thought. I didn't chain you, I've released you. But... but you have to do what I say.
So it would seem I am chained, replied the voice, and Cohen realised that that was probably the case. As long as he held on, the darkness was contained in his body. But it hurt so much.
I don't want anyone to die, he thought. It was hard to think, but that was the most prevalent one. I... I don't want anyone to die or get hurt.
Then we are very different, you and I.
Cohen tried to blink his eyes, tried to move his limbs, but nothing worked. His body was exerting all of its energy to keep the vast force inside of him. He thought it might kill him. Where was he? Where were Niall and Myrna right now? Were they touching him? Trying to stop him?
What is it you desire, creature of mud?
What did he desire? He desired Niall, and safety, and to not have a body that fought him at all angles. But those were just little things. Things he could live without. There was more at stake. Do you know about the Guild?
I saw the dark mind of the one who came before you. Yes, I know of the Guild. He wanted them dead.
I don't want them dead, said Cohen. I just want them to leave everyone alone.
They will die before they do that.
I don't want anyone to die.
Then you were unwise to release me.
Niall had said that summoning the demon was the stupidest thing he'd
ever done. Cohen thought he might have just topped that. I haven't released you yet.
Cohen felt the Titan bristle inside of him. If you release me, I shall see that whatever you desire comes to fruition, little creature of mud.
Think, think, think. This was what Cohen was good at. He may be short and round and clumsy and trapped, but at least he was smart. He needed to use that right now. If I release you, you need to promise never to hurt anyone, or... He thought long and hard. He had to get this right... or do anything that will cause someone pain. Ever.
The creature's mind boiled and growled. It didn't like that. Very well.
And... said Cohen. You have to release the Guild's hold on Niall. Make it so they've never even heard of him. So even if they were to come face to face with him, they won't care about him, or anyone he is involved with. Can you do that?
I can. But... The darkness seemed to laugh. Your lover has powerful magic, does he not? Do you wish for him to go unchecked? Why not just release me?
He's not going to misuse it, said Cohen, but the Titan had a point. The Guild had good intentions too, but too much power had corrupted them as well. But he doesn't want it anyway. You can take it away.
You are very stupid and brave, little creature of mud. Your mind is full of light. There is too much of you for your body.
I like my body, said Cohen firmly. He didn't know what the Titan was insinuating, but he didn't like it. I'll keep it, thanks.
You are going to die soon. Your body will return to the mud, your soul to the magic. Would you not rather live forever?
We're not having this conversation, said Cohen, although the pain that his body was in right now was tempting him. Was he going to die right now? Would he ever be able to come back from what he'd just done? I gave you my terms.
And I accept them.
Cohen felt like his body was breaking apart. Darkness flowed out of him, through every opening in his body, and out his pores. Suddenly his body felt very heavy, and dysphoric. Was this all he had? Was this all his body would ever be? Little and broken and not enough. Every nerve ending was in pain, every part of his stupid little wrong human body was obvious to him. He sobbed, pulling his arms to his chest, and fell forward. Why had he refused? This was torture.
"Cohen!" Niall's voice echoed in his head, and then shouted, too loudly next to his ear. "Cohen! Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he murmured. "I'm fine, Niall, just don't—don't touch me." He felt wrong. Every part of him felt wrong. He shuddered, over and over again. He felt nauseous and oh so tired.
"Where's the Titan?" asked Niall. "Cohen, what happened?"
"It's gone," said Cohen. "It flew away. I told it... I told it not to hurt anyone."
"What else did you tell it?" Cohen could tell that Niall wanted to touch him. He wished he could.
"I told it to take away your magic," he murmured. He felt dizzy. Which way was up? He thought he was falling sideways, onto the ground. He was going to puke. "I told it... to make the Guild forget about you." He did puke then, turning onto his side and heaving his guts out. Myrna grabbed him and helped him turn. She seemed to know the exact way to hold him so that he didn't choke.
"That was so stupid," said Niall. "Cohen, you could have died!"
"So could you," said Cohen. "I think I need to go to the hospital." With that, he felt his head spinning, and darkness claimed him again. But it was an empty kind this time, like the darkness and relief of sleep, and he fell into it willingly.
Epilogue
He awoke in a hospital. He knew it was a hospital immediately, because the ceiling was tiled, and there was the smell of chemicals and sanitizer. For a moment he just lay, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he'd imagined the whole thing. Then he heard Niall's voice and knew he hadn't.
"You're awake!"
"Yeah," murmured Cohen. "Of course I'm awake, sleeping is boring."
Niall leaned over him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess and his face unshaven. "I should call the doctors."
"You look terrible," murmured Cohen. He was dimly becoming aware of things like the scratchy hospital blanket and the fact that he wasn't wearing his binder. "Shouldn't you be hiding?"
"I don't need to," said Niall. "The Guild already interviewed me and Myrna, and let us go. They don't seem to know or care who I am."
Cohen smiled blearily. "Good. How long have I been asleep? Also, where are we?"
"Three days. Hospital in Dublin. Your family's here."
"Oh, great. I don't want to see them."
Niall looked confused. "Why not?"
"I just..." Cohen blinked, suddenly aware that he had a massive headache. His eyes teared up in reaction to it. "How will I explain everything to them?"
"You don't need to explain anything to them. You were kidnapped by a murderer, but Myrna took care of him. I'm your boyfriend, which is why I came with you to Dublin."
"You're my boyfriend?" Cohen grinned. He still felt incredibly dopey. "What do my parents think of that?"
"They, um... think it means you'd like to go back to being a girl."
Cohen sighed heavily. "See, I don't want to talk to them."
"Cohen!" Halley's voice ripped right through Cohen's headache. She was next to him in a moment, although a bit blurry in his peripheral vision. "You're awake! I'll get mam and dad."
"Okay, fine," said Cohen, accepting his fate. "Halley."
Halley turned back to him as she was leaving the room. "It's good to see you," said Cohen. Halley took a moment to smile at him, and then rushed off.
"I want to get out of here as soon as possible," Cohen told Niall.
"Where do you want to go?" asked Niall. "I mean, I thought I might visit my family in Cork."
"Your family," said Cohen, jumping up.
"Yeah," said Niall. "But it might be better to wait a bit, make sure the Titan's... effects... are permanent."
"Oh." Cohen stared at Niall, trying to will his fuzzy brain to remember. "Your magic. Is it..."
"Gone," said Niall. "I can still do witchcraft, but that's it. Thank you, by the way. I…" he heaved a sigh. "I never wanted it."
"I know." Cohen was silent for a moment, before remembering. "And Jacky and Kathleen?"
Niall swallowed. "The um... the Guild recovered their bodies. Myrna says she went back to the site, but it was closed off."
Cohen's parents arrived a moment later and their conversation was cut off. They stayed and chatted for several hours, until at last Cohen managed to convince them to go home for the night. Niall sneaked back in just before visiting hours ended and planted a kiss on Cohen's forehead.
"You saved my life," he told Cohen quietly. "You saved... everything."
"I didn't," said Cohen sadly. The time with his family had given him time to come down from his high of having survived and realise how far short of perfect everything was. "The Guild is still out there. They're still doing horrible things. What are we supposed to do?"
"I don't know if there's anything we can do," said Niall.
"Fuck that," said Cohen. "There's got to be something."
"You have time," said Niall. "We've got time to figure everything out. You can't change everything, Cohen."
"Maybe not." Cohen shook his head. "But I can damn well try."
Niall had to leave then. He kissed Cohen's forehead again, and then his lips, a lingering kiss full of promise, and then he left.
Cohen lay in the darkness of the bed, unable to sleep for a long while, but with nothing else to do. He wanted to get up and wander around, but his body still felt like lead, and he was connected to an I.V. He looked around for a book, but saw nothing. The people in the beds next to him were asleep, so he couldn't watch T.V. He sat, resigning himself to boredom.
There was a shadow at the foot of his bed, on the green textured linoleum of the floor, and he stared at it for several minutes, trying to figure out what was making it. The only light in the room was the warm glow from the hallway and the moonlight th
rough the window, but there was nothing in either of those directions to make that shadow.
As Cohen continued staring at it, his eyes grew tired, and wavered, and it looked for a minute like the shadow was moving. It swirled and began to creep down the floor, to the night table next to Cohen. Then it latched onto the I.V. stand and pulled itself up next to Cohen. It wavered and shimmered, and then a body and a head formed. It blinked slowly, dark, shadow-black eyes.
Hello again, little creature of mud.
Fin
About the Author
J.K. Pendragon is a queer writer hailing from British Columbia, Canada. They have been writing and telling stories from a young age, and enjoy writing in a variety of different genres, mashing them together whenever possible. A social recluse at heart, J. likes peace and solitude, with the exception of attention from their doting boyfriend and cold disdain from their snot-bag of a cat. J. loves receiving messages and feedback, and you can reach them by email at [email protected], or tweet them at @JKPendragon.
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