Beautifully Damaged

29. Oblivion

No!

Drake willed himself to free himself, to reach down and help her. Had he done this to her?

The blood curdling truth was that he was a prisoner in his own head; a spectator to what his body was being forced to do.

Time caught up with itself, sending a booming roll of thunder across the sky as the first few drops hit the pavement once more. The trees around him screamed in the wind, bending against the wind.

Drake snapped back into his body, stumbling forward with the extra fight leftover from the struggle with Him. His foot connected with Blaise on the ground and he splayed his arms outwards to stop himself from falling on top of her.

Dark tendrils of smugness still lurked in the peripheral of his thoughts, only reminding Drake that he would never be truly free.

He dropped to his knees beside her and reached out to pull her into his arms. But what if his very presence was what was hurting her? She'd been fine until she had kissed him.

The cursed whispers in his head started up again; they willed Drake to finish her off while she was vulnerable. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

Wrong, he reminded himself sullenly. All he wanted was to kill her. It was as if his subconscious was completely separate from what made Drake himself.

Raging inside him was an unwinnable war, a perilous battle between a force much stronger than Drake could be, and a lost soul.

The balance needs to be restored.

How could Drake even hope to fight against Him? There was no option. Something as ancient as Him was to be obeyed, willingly or otherwise. It was what Life depended on, after all.

Her life is already over; she is living on borrowed time.

Drake sat back on his heels, hopelessly staring at the girl he was destined to kill. To murder.

Just a touch, and her soul would surely be lost, overcome by the darkness harbored in Drake's own body. It wouldn't be difficult to do, as quick and fleeting as a breath on the wind.

All that would be left would be a body, a meaningless vessel of the soul- something that Drake could not hold any feelings for.

Despair permeated the air around him as he tore himself apart. There was no good answer to this, no action that would be fully right. Which was the lesser of the evils?

Drake couldn't kill her.

You can.

He wouldn't.

You would. There's no other choice for you.

Drake's throat constricted, his muscles quivered under the strain of decision. His hands hovered over her chest, over the place where her heart would be.

Just one touch and it would be over.

***

The clouds outside had hung over the building, an oppressive blanket dulling the alertness of everyone around Alex. He had sat in the back of his History class, fighting the urge to catch up on much needed rest. After all, he knew all about human history. He'd watched it all himself. The nagging feeling that Blaise was in danger had eaten at his insides all day.

However, the night before, she'd made it very clear that she didn't want him anywhere near her. The truth was, she hadn't felt okay to him in a long time. Alex's intuition was the only thing that he'd been allowed to reserve inside of him to keep Blaise out of danger.

What a great lot of good that had done.

It was when her presence, her very being, had blinked off of his radar that he snapped to attention. With a scrambled apology to his professor, Alex had snatched his bag and bolted out of the classroom.

His thoughts had been background music to the frantic thrum of his heart in his ears as he had sprinted down the hallways slick with water. Alex's shoes had slipped along the ground, never once betraying him or making him lose his balance.

It couldn't be happening, not again.

He wouldn't let it happen this time.

***

It took a while for me to coax my eyes open, to look around at the desolate, dark room around me. The endless expanse of black around me froze my murmuring thoughts.

"The white light," I whispered.

My voice was dulled, like it was being muffled through a filter. I pushed to my feet and whipped my head around. Where had I seen this before? I took a step forward, and then another, until I was running through the murky black. My footsteps didn't echo, didn't make a sound.

My breath caught in my throat, but that wasn't audible either. I stopped running.

It was as if-

"I was nothing," I gasped.

Wide-eyed, I cast my frenzied gaze through the atmosphere. I waited for the weight on my chest, for the darkness to swallow me up until I was falling into the white light that I finally remembered.

It never happened.

In my silent oblivion, I stood.

"Why me?" I cried, suddenly overwhelmed by tears and shaking hands. "What did I do?"

You cheated me.

The voice was all the things I couldn't describe, the very embodiment of the universe itself. Deep and ancient, it sliced right through my emotions, tore right past all the layers of Blaise Anthony. The sound of His voice forced me to my knees with its weight. There was fear, anger, betrayal, malice, melancholy and negative emotion in the world in His voice- like every horrible deed in the world had been packed into it.

On the other hand, I felt deep comfort, warmth, joy, justice... all of it laced his words and I doubted I could ever shake the sound from my head.

I came to the realization that this was the 'Him' the demon had mentioned. It was an apt label for the voice. He sounded like He'd seen everything, had experienced it all through others' eyes. Judgment was not an action He was capable of, despite all that He had seen. Hearsays', blame and explanations gained no sympathy with this figure. He didn't have an opinion or favor.

My fate had been set and then reversed by someone who was allowed to have judgment and feelings, though seldom acted on them. He was here to take me back, and it wasn't for revenge. I knew pleading would not help me.

After all, while Death doesn't discriminate, it also cares for no one.