Ethereal

Chapter thirteen

Chapter thirteen: 

Mikael sauntered along the stone pathway. Graceful beauteous figures stood tall at the ends of the path with their sunken roots, the trees. The light from a candle he bore in his shivering hands flickered on to this ravishingly grim presence. It was dark and he was weary of the scent of the forest, abiding in the depth of his soul, groping it with its divine allure. 

He was walking through this endless path, barefoot, angst shook him. As he walked further, the forests seemed to wither, he watched as life forsake the timber.

"You're not destroying life because you're clumsy. You're destroying life because you are, in a very literal and deliberate way, at war with it." She said with a sigh.

At that point, readers, I need not tell you who that was.

"Your words seem familiar." Said he with a smile.

"Yes," She smiled back and took his hand, leading him into the timber, "You read it with your own eyes."

"Were you the one to have written it then?"

"No, Mikael," She pushed a stubborn bush bearing wild roses aside to reveal the scene, "You were."

Awe struck him as he lay his gaze upon the sight. 

Before them, a reflection of his own self, sitting by the Stensjön, smoking a joint, singing the same song.. Just the way it had been that night. He looked at her, wide eyed, inquiringly.

Multiple questions raced through his mind, but he knew her, he decided not to utter any. 

For a few seconds they stood behind the trees, watching.. 

When an alarming ache burned, enhancing, through his chest, it was like nothing existed. No sound, no sight. Nothing but the catheter, seeming to be a dagger, trenching his chest, taking its time, being thorough. Everything spun around him until it blurred from his tears. It was then that he fell to the ground, it felt like his chest was burning fire. No, not fire, for fire was quenchable. 

He could see Vilhelmina, getting down on her knees and laying her hand on his chest. With the other, brushing her fingers across his dark thick beard, telling him, with her poignant eyes, that this shall be over.

He could hear her sigh full sore, as she unbuttoned his shirt.. 

"Et liberabit vos, deliciae." She blurted, before incising the catheter out of his skin, he cried as she did, in agony. 

I could not describe to you, how gratuitous that had felt.. He knew he didn't have much until he would breathe his last breath, but he would rather breathe his last, free. 

Everything was fading, he could feel his soul trying to break through, demanding to be delivered to its claimer. He smiled at her, his eyes speaking for him as the hot tears ran down his face..

This was the end.

She took his lips which were moist with tears, into hers, bidding them a last kiss. He struggled as he felt it coming..

He closed his eyes, felt her hand as it held on to his.

He couldn't breathe anymore, his hand stiffened, his heart stopped, the last tear was shed..

She was weeping at his chest, shaken, flustered and alone in that dark hell hole. 

At this point, you might question my reliability, you can't exactly trust me, and you have the absolute right to, my readers.

Because he opened his blood red eyes wide, sat straight on his bed and took in a deep breath.. 

It was just a dream.

"Dead eyes always stare, huh?" Said she with a smirk.