Across Acheron

Session 9

I lost my parents, my memories, and my mind. I survived through jumping out of a moving vehicle, talking to the woman my brother stole, and receiving innumerable amounts of beatings, but the last thing I wanted to survive through was Keenan. But suffering was easy with a guy like him. It came with him like a package; a two-in-one deal that you couldn’t ignore.

I didn’t want to think about anything the moment I came to. I didn’t want to think about how his whole identity had been a lie and how I’d probably have to wake up at sunrise and pretend nothing happened. I didn’t know how long I’d be pushing the truth aside, but I knew I couldn’t hate him. I could never hate him ‘cause the moment you start liking somebody, it becomes hell of a lot harder to see the bad in them.

When I finally decided to open my eyes, I wished I hadn’t. I found myself gazing down at the dirt ground, the sound of chains against leather boots filling my ears as he walked.

Chizk, chizk, chizk, chizk...

My stomach was aching and it was getting harder to breathe. I peered over my shoulder and found it against someone else’s. Pale arms decorated with moving Celtic tattoos held my body in place, his head full of raven feathers soft against the skin my shirt exposed.

I snapped my eyes back to the ground, my hope that it was all a dream shattered. I coughed slightly to show that I was finally awake, but Keenan never stopped walking. It wasn’t until my stomach began to burn from the pain did I mutter, “Put me down.”

Keenan didn’t hesitate. He stopped walking at once and set me down to my feet, ignoring my eyes. He never did ignore my eyes, unless he had something to hide.

Come on, I thought desperately. Let this be fake. Let it be a lie.

I reached out and touched him, something I’d never do if I was in my right mind. I went for his cheeks, eyes, nose, and lips before raking my fingers through the feathers. Keenan’s body tensed, his eyelids fluttering shut as I made my exploration.

“Is it really you?” I found myself asking, my fingers desperate as I searched for a crack, or a zipper, or anything to prove that what was standing before me was just a dirty trick.

Keenan finally looked up at me, honey brown eyes shining as bright as gold bars. He caught my hands and brought them away from his face, voice quiet as he said, “I have many names. Bás rí, morte re, Death King, Man of the Shadows...” he smiled slightly. “Keenan.”

For a split second, I thought I saw the old Keenan from the way he looked at me. I thought I saw the Keenan who liked playing catch with himself and thought he was pathetic; not the one who made false deals with pitiful people, stealing souls that could have been saved. I wanted to believe that I had him back, and at any second he would rip off that hideous costume and yell, got you.

But as quick as he came, he vanished into the night air. He suddenly became composed once more; his back straightened as his lips went into a tight line, making the best poker face I’d ever seen.

“Then Cillian’s your...client? You made a deal with him, right? You’re the one who told him where to find that woman. You planned all this!” my eyes went wide, although I couldn’t feel the shock. “I probably seemed like the biggest joke by wanting to save her, right? Is that how you got your kicks? By watching me scramble and fall?”

“I never planned any of this, Jack,” Keenan said, his voice sharp. “I only do what he can’t, like finding the exact place she would be at. I never planned for him to put her in the basement or tell him different ways to torture her.”

“Liar!”

He sighed. “Your mother told you about me, didn’t she? You should know that my job doesn’t include doing all the work. I would save her if I could but that would mean forfeiting the soul, and I definitely can’t do that.”