PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

13

“Hey Dark and Handsome,” Miss Remembrance yawns. “Ready to go find this place?”

  I chuckle. “The better question is if you are awake enough. You look as if you are about to swoon at any given moment.”

  She only yawns. “I’m not a morning person, and I didn’t have enough time to make a cup of coffee this morning.” She gives a tired smile. “My roommate about had a heart attack when she saw that I was up and zombified before she was up and perkified.”

  I smile. “Well let us be on our search and stop at a coffee house along the way.”

  She gives me another drowsy smile. “Can it be a Starbucks? I like their coffee.”

  I laugh. “As you wish Miss Remembrance.” I begin towards the destination. “Come along.”

  Halfway towards our destination, we found a Starbucks and got Miss Remembrance a cup of coffee to go.

  “Thanks for the coffee, Dark and Handsome. I feel like a million times more awake now.”

  I chuckle. “I see that. Do you not believe that it would have been better for you to only get a single shot of espresso on your coffee, instead of a quadruple?”

  She stops and ponders only a moment before saying, “Nope. So how much longer before we reach this mysterious, magical place?”

  “What makes you believe that it is either of those things?”

  “You did say he was a magician, right?”

  “No.”

  “But you said-”

  “I said he was a wizard. I said nothing of him being one those sorry excuses for magic trick children birthday party imbeciles. If Sir Gargilre were here to hear you call him that, he would surely turn you into a slug and sprinkle you with salt.”

  She cringes. “Harsh.”

  I smile. “However harsh, it is true.”

  “So who exactly planned his funeral?”

  “I admire your need for a subject change. He did.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, most immortals find it a fun past time to plan their own funerals, if they the time ever came to where they were killed.”

  “Don’t you mean died?”

  I shake my head. “Killed, an immortal cannot die on like morals can, though I secretly hoped you knew that. They must be killed. Sir Gargilre planned his from beginning to finish and gloated at how magnificent his was, how many parts were there to it, how afterward no one would feel the pain of their loss of a good friend, only sweet memories. I, even, had to bow down at how wonderful it sounded. Needless to say, I regret him passing, but I am eager to be at his funeral.” I smile at that thought.

  “Have you ever planned your funeral?”

  My smile leaves. “What is the point of planning for something that you know shall never happen to your kind?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can not die. I can not be killed.”

  “How do you know if you’ve never tried?”

  My expression turns grim. “Oh, believe me Miss Remembrance,” I stop and stare her dead in the eyes, “I have tried.”

“Sucky-Ducky?” Melarvious is looking around the palace for her old friend. “Sucky-Ducky, where the Hades are you?”

  Blue flames appear and a man reeking of burnt and rotten flesh steps forth out of them. He smiles down at her. “You called, my lovely?”

  She plugs her nose and fans him off. “Go away Hades, I wasn’t calling for you. And for the last time, I am not interested in you and your foul stench.” Before the god can leave she speaks. “Have you seen Sucky-Ducky around here, by any chance?”

  Hades only closes his eyes, shaking his head and sucking his rancid teeth. “Just keep on walking that way and you will find something dangling from the ceiling. When you find that, you shall find him.” Hades disappears back into his blue flames.

  “Dangling?” Melarvious did not find it a need to worry about Hades description of what she may see when she finds her friend, but that did not stop her from almost running the rest of the length of the corridor. When she comes to the tall wooden door, she stops to gather herself before opening it. “Ducky? Are you-” She stares up wide-eyed at the clump of once white cloth covered and dripping in red liquid. She knew that red liquid oh too well. It was what kept her living. It was what she craved. She sniffed the air just to be sure. Sadly, it was as she suspected. Blood. She only prayed to the gods that it was not the blood of whom she suspected. “Ducky?” She willed herself to look up past the drenched in red white cloth to the face of the person wearing it. “Ducky!” Sadly, she was correct in her assumption once more as she saw her friends face staring back at her. “Ducky, no!” She quickly climbs up one of the columns in the large room and leap towards her friend. She cuts the rope, slides down a column on the opposite side, and catches her friend before he has time to hit the ground. His body was covered in deep cuts. “Ducky! Ducky, please don’t be dead! Please! Ducky!” She grabs and shakes her friend with all her might. “Ducky!”

  He does not respond. He only lies there, eyes looking at nothing.

  “No!” She buries her already drenched face into his drenched clothing, shoulder shaking and convulsing.

  She hears a cough.

  She looks up, “Ducky?”

  He goes into a coughing fit.

  “Ducky!” She kneels over him, holding his cheeks in her hands, her face close to hers. “Ducky, who did this to you?”

  “No one,” he coughs.

  “The how-”

  “NOOO!!!” He screams.

  Melarvious jumps back. “W-what’s wrong Sucky-Ducky?”

  He presses his hands against his face and says through them, “I did not die!”

  “What?” She says, not quite sure she heard him right.

   He throws his hands down to his sides and sits up. “I did not die! How did this not work?! I drank poisons! I cut myself deep enough so the bleed myself dry! I hanged myself! I pierced my heart! How did they not work?! How-”

  “You did this to yourself?” She squeaks, finally noticing the gaping hole in his chest that one could see clear through to the other side. She put her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to faint.

  “Melarvious?”

  She opens her eyes at the clear pain in her friend’s voice. She knew that he had to feel horrible for giving her such a scare.

  “Why did I not die?”

  She stands, furious. “I beg your pardon?”

  He stands with her and repeats. “Why did I not die?”

  “Is that all you have to say?” She was deeply hurt and angered by the selfishness of her friend, praying to the gods that it was only her imagination.

  “Yes, Melarvious! How did I not die when I ate, drank, and did every single thing known to both man and immortal to kill either a man or an immortal, and an immortal?! How am I not dead?!”

  At any other time, she would have avoided this question and would have acted clueless, but not today. No, today she was going to be as heartless and selfish as he was being right now. She was going to make him feel more pain than he had in the past several changes of the moon.

  “Do you truly want to know why you did not die?”

  “Yes! I want to know!”

  “You did not die, no! You can not die for this one simple fact, Darkus.” She hisses. “You are a freak among freaks. You are not a glorious immortal, such as those that live on Mount Olympus. You are not like their many full and half blood sons and daughters. You are not like the one you murdered. You are a monster. Not even I am as big a monster as you! You are of pure Darkness and Evil! You consume all those pure! You are nothing but a fleshed demon that can and will never die! Your new father would never allow it. You are his only creation. You are his little experiment. You are his little toy! You are his guinea pig! He shall use you up! He shall make your eternity miserable! And I applaud him for that. You are nothing more than a selfish, shallow, sorry excuse for an immortal. What A-”

  “DO NOT SAY HER NAME!” The pain and astonishment clear in both his eyes, voice, and tears. “For the love of all the pures and the gods in this world, do not say her name!” His pain echoes through the large almost empty room. Their two the only bodies filling it, not even the slightest of a fraction.

  “And why not?!” She shrieks back. “She is dead because of the freak of nature you are! Why should I not say her name and cause you pain Darkus?!”

  He tries to speak but the words do not come. He only hangs his head in defeat and falls to his knees, burying his face in his hands, and then pressing them through his hair.

  All Melarvious does is spit in his face and say, “What she saw in you, I shall never know. She was the smartest and kindest of the goddess’s children. She could have done so much better than you. Her dumbest act of kindness shall always be marrying you. She could have done so much better than you. You disgusting piece of worthless eternity living flesh.” She spits in his face once more, then turn and walks away.

That was the only time she ever hated and despised my enough to say such hurtful things. That was the only time she ever said such hurtful things towards me. I deserved it. I was being selfish. I was only thinking of myself. I had frightened her close to her own death, I pained her heart close to death, and I could do was think of myself. “Sadly, I failed.”