Dead Lines

27: Becoming

Unedited. It's a long one, loves! 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

And it all came back to me, like finding a missing puzzle piece and having it slide back into place without incident…

“Hello, Natalie.”

The voice was soft, caring. So unlike the first time I heard it. It was so different, in fact, it caused me to pause for a moment and think it over. What exactly did it mean and why was there a sad lit to his tone? I had to face him sometime and I couldn’t help but think it wouldn’t be so bad when I did.

I turned away from the endless sprawl that was the Underworld and confronted its keeper. His eyes were still a brilliant blue and shrewdly assessing, his skin as pale and untouched by the sun as I’d ever seen. He was the exact same and I knew he would never change. None of them would unless they wanted to.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

All I could manage was a weak smile and a careless shrug. “Things happen beyond our control.”

“Yes. I dare say they do.” He stood up from his throne, which was solid black stone instead of the shadows I was used to, and approached me. I looked down, hoping I wouldn’t see the damage done to me but no such luck. The Greek and Latin words made from the Goddesses’ blood still stained my skin; the dress I was put in still blood soaked. “You are a complete mess.”

I nodded, still keeping the tears in my eyes even though this would be the opportune time to shed them. I was dead but I still couldn’t bring myself to cry like a normal person. “I’m a little out of sorts, I’m afraid.”

The tip of his shoes touched the tips of my toes and I took in a deep breath. It was almost laughable considering I didn’t need to breathe anymore.

I was dead. You don’t need to breathe when you’re dead. You didn’t need to do a lot of things when you’re dead.

Hades’s pale hand lifted from his side and cupped my chin, his skin chilled but not freezing cold like one would think. With a little bit of pressure, my head was lifted up and I was looking him in the eyes.

“It takes a bit of adjusting to get used to being dead. At least that’s what I’m told.” His head tilted to the side just a little like he was contemplating something. “You’re afraid. But not for yourself.”

“You know what my death means.”

“And alas, the horrors your demise was supposed to bring has yet to come to pass.” His right eyebrow slowly rose and his eyes grew distant. “My Time Particular is praying, rather insistently. Normally I do not mind speaking with him but…I’m attending to other matters.” The last bit was said as if he was speaking with someone other than me. He waved at the air like it was irritating him and a slip of shadow pulled away from the tip of his pinkie only to quickly disappear.

I wanted to ask how Cecil was. As I imagined arriving just as our former friend slit my throat was a bit traumatic as well as heartbreaking. I worried he might do something stupid in order to correct it.

“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice scratchy and barely there. Chris had done considerable damage to my vocal cords and how I was able to talk right now was beyond me. Magic of the Underworld, I suppose. “Please. Whatever he’s asking, don’t do it.”

“I know.” He still had his hand cupped under my chin and his fingers brushed the line of my jaw before he dropped it. “But I’m not going to lie and say I’m not considering it.”