Chapter III

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The pain, it was gone. I felt nothing at all. No sadness for Sarah, no guilt for my Father and no shame for Nathan. I had done everyone wrong, but yet, none of the grief was there. It was incredible.

I was dead. My heart didn't beat in my chest and my skin was cool to the touch, but I could feel things again. I could feel heat and cold, but it didn't affect me like it had before. I didn't get that aching feeling if I left my hand in cold water for too long or flinch if I accidentally touched a warm stove. I didn't feel pain. I spent almost an hour keeping my hand under the boiling tap water to see if I'd ever feel it burn my skin, but I felt nothing at all.

And when I thought of my father, who had lost his only daughter and wife, I felt nothing either. I tried to cry, I tried to feel remorse for the reckless decision I had made that morning, but I couldn't. I was a hallow shell.

I attended my funeral when the last of the people left. I looked down at my pale face. I looked calm and at peace, a small, barely visible smile playing on my lips. It felt as if I was looking down at a complete stranger who had had an unfortunate accident, and died. I took the locket my Dad had put on my neck for the embalmment and walked out without a glance back at who I used to be.

I visited my house when my Dad had gone to work. He had begun packing my things, but he had left all the old photo albums lying on the ground, open for everyone to see. He must have been looking through them, and by the looks of my room, he couldn't handle it any longer. I crouched down and picked one of them up. The dark shadow that appeared in almost every one of my pictures was no longer there, like a distant memory no one wanted to remember. I guess it got what it wanted. I was dead.

"I need to borrow your car," I sat on the bar stool next to Lucifer, who was in the process of taking a sip from his scotch. The bar was almost empty, but I knew he'd be here. He's here, everyday, around four o'clock in the afternoon. We hadn't spoken in weeks, but I watched him sometimes, now able to sense where he was.

"You're not touching my car," he laughed and I groaned.

"I need it. I have something to finish."

"That look in your eye doesn't reassure me. Do you remember what happened the last time you drove a car? Oh wait, I remember, you died," he said quite loudly and I looked around, the bartender sending us a glance.

"Then come with me," I offered but he still wouldn't look at me.

"Don't take this the wrong way love, but I find you rather unpleasant," he tilted his head back and downed the last of the content of his glass. He got up and walked out of the joint and I followed right behind him.

"What have I done?" I asked as he pushed the door open.

"You aren't yourself," he stated simply, crossing the parking lot.

"It's still me. I'm still here."

"But you're not," he turned around suddenly and I stopped walking. "You're dead."

"Well, I don't feel dead," I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm breathing, walking and eating. I've never felt more alive."

"But there's nothing in you," he pressed his finger in the middle of my chest. "Your personality, your kindness, it's all gone. And it's only going to get worse."

"Give me more credit than that. I won't fall off the deep end."

"The monsters and demons you've seen; they were all like you once. Innocent and desperate, begging me for a second chance. And now they're bed time tales to scare children and running around painting humanity's nightmares. There is darkness in you now, and it's only going spread until it consumes you."

"Then how do I stop that?"

"You know who can help you? Nathan. Well, that is if he's willing to speak to you."

"I don't want to see him and he won't want to see me."

"Then I'll meet you in Hell," he gestured and stepped into his car. He started the engine quickly and I banged my fists on the window for him to open it. He sent me a smirk and drove away, his tires screeching as he got on to the road.

"Asshole," I muttered and walked back inside.

___

I raised my hand and knocked on his door. I played with my fingers as he took his sweet time to answer and when the door swung open, I raised my head with wide eyes, like a dear caught in headlights. He was about to shut it in my face, but I pressed my hand to it, stopping him.

"Nathan please," I begged and he dropped his head, opening just enough so that he could look at me. "Hear me out."

"There's nothing here for you anymore," he said and I shut my eyes at his words.

"I just want to talk to you," my voice was quiet. He looked up at me and finally opened it. I walked inside, all of his belongings packed up into boxes.

"Moving are we?" I attempted to lighten the mood.

"What do you want?" he sighed and I turned around to face him.

"I need your help."

"Haven't you taken enough from me?" His once soft eyed were now closed off to me.

"Nathan, I didn't mean..." I started but he cut me off.

"You've taken everything," he shouted. "Because of you, I can no longer go back home. I was ready to fight for you, ready to give up everything for you and you threw it all away like it was nothing!"

"I didn't ask you to do that," I whispered and he balled his fists, trying to contain his anger.

"Well, I guess I'll be doing you a favour by leaving," he grabbed something off the chair and tossed it into the box.

"Nathan please. It's my Mother," I said and he paused, looking away from me. "I think she may be alive," I went on and he stayed quiet.

"That isn't possible," he muttered.

"Someone sent her wedding ban in the mail with an address."

"That doesn't mean she's alive," he said harshly. "Anybody can take the ring off a dead woman's hand."

"But it's a chance," I sent him pleading eyes.

"A chance that leads to disappointment. It's some lame attempt to get you and your stupid enough to fall for it, but I don't care because you're no longer my responsibility. You can't kill someone who's already dead."

"It's still me!" I repeated the words I had said to Lucifer.

"The person I'm looking at is not the Olivia I know, or rather, I knew," he said flatly and went back to putting his things away. "You made your choice, and you'll have to live with it for the rest of eternity."

"I'm changing in ways I don't want to," I said and he scoffed.

"What did you expect? That he would grant you back your life and you could go on living your merry little life? You belong to the Underworld now, deal with it."

"I don't want this, I don't want to feel this way."

"Well too fucking bad!" he shouted. "You should've thought of that when you chose this."

"But I love him," I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Get out," he seethed, leaning on to the desk, his knuckles turning white as he held the edges.

"Nathan, please."

"Get out!" he roared and I flinched, backing away. I let out a huff and stormed out of his house, slamming the door behind me. 

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