Magnus Academy: The Cursed Blood

When the Talk of Death Leads To Something Else

I was well aware of how death could be scary. A world of nothingness, no consciousness, no life, and most especially, one wouldn't even feel it. I fear dying the most. Who wouldn't? Yet it amazes me and at the same time, it's confusing how Caelesti finds it so intriguing. She desires it. It always, somehow, puzzles her to her utmost sense when there's a particular something that she couldn't grasp. And one of those particular things includes death.

Caelesti was an embodiment of power itself, she had escaped numerous deaths that perhaps I wouldn't be able to know most of them. Death fears her, despite that though, she'd always attract it, almost seemingly begging for it to take her along with it. And it's my job to make sure death wouldn't. That was supposed to be my job yet...

It was as though my muscles were tearing apart, my lungs were dry, my whole body shievering, and my heart was feeling numb. It felt cold—empty even. My mind was in a daze, everything around me seemed spinning that it's nauseous.

I watch as blood ran down, passing through each fingers, but it wasn't mine. My hand was gripped around tightly on the dagger, the edging blades of it glistening against the ray of moonlight. It was explicitly chilly, but my body wasn't reacting to how cold it is, it was reacting to the scene slowly being unfolded in front of me.

I couldn't scream. It was as though my mind went blank, words leaving me all behind. My eyes started to water, hindering the view of her pale blue eyes threatening to close. The next second later, my hand began to unwrap from its handle, that was until she held my hand bu her own, making sure I couldn't let it go.

She took a step forward, the blade piercing deeper to her chest, blood came rushing out from her lips that were about to lose their rich, pink colours, and so does her face. Despite that though, she was showing an expression I never really thought she would.

"I...I..." I didn't know what to say, but I knew I had to say something. That I didn't want this. That I didn't mean to. That...that—that I want her to live! To fight back! That—

"Shhh..." she whispered, barely catching my ears. She raised a hand, touching my right cheek. It was cold, almost beginning to lose...life.

"You knew this would happen!" My voice exploding in anger, all directed to myself.

But I knew it was mostly frustration, regret, and that extreme feeling of anguish. My free hand gripped my chest, begging for the pain to stop, for damn everything to just stop! I couldn't handle it. My breathing was rough and harsh, each seconds feel like the last, each moments pleading to be ended.

I didn't want this to happen, and she knew that...she knew that but knowing I was the cause of it still leaves a sensible kind of guilt. I feel like the guilt itself is slowly killing me, eating away every senses on my body.

"Erase it." I softly begged her. "Erase these emotions." But she only smiled, the genuine one I wanted her to make so badly before, but now...I didn't want her to do so. "Erase it!" I was practically yelling to her face.

She was feeling every single emotions I have, she was aware of the pain and suffering that were weighing me down and yet...! Why didn't she erase everything? For torture? Madness? Revenge? Or was it something else? Something to remember her by? She wanted me to remember the fact that I killed her!

"I hate you." My tears were never-ending, I couldn't make them stop.

Those words were true, I've always did hate her anyway, but she made me do more because of this. But most of those words were for me, I was saying those to myself, as much as it pains me to admit.