Death and Destruction

The Price Of Immortality

The letter "M" was written in a circle on the book. It had a streak of red for emphasis. The owner of the great mind used the rubber to erase the fluid which the pen squirted. Every last drop was removed. The author put down his risen hand in the pond of ink and lifted it to watch the colours drip off his fingers. His fingers swept through his hair, dying it jet black, as the sharpened stone he used to write his stories with, shattered into rainbow coloured shards with jagged edges.

As if by magic, the book flew open and a weird chanting began. He was slammed to the ceiling by a gush of wind. Slowly, a dagger appeared out of thin air and impaled him. Screaming, he looked on in terror as the shards of stone pierced his skin. The pool of ink grew larger as his blood was added to it.

His pierced skin started to heal and the hole in his chest closed up as he pulled the dagger out. Grinning, he did a few seals and shut the book, siphoning the ink away with the rubber.

"You cannot kill that which made you, dear son!" he said as he plunged the dagger through the book.

He had learnt his lesson. Never again would he try to save his mortal children by trapping their souls in the page of their most hated children's books. But maybe he could try the toys next time? Yeah...that seemed like a good plan.

As he turned around, the dagger rose from the book and thrust through his heart. With his last gasp, he cursed his first-born as he died a slow painful death.