Poison

by Dejana Vuletic

  “You’re lying!” I shouted, and then a groan escaped my lips as my jaw popped in and out again.

  “Why would I lie?” she countered with a sneer. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Tell me then,” I asserted forcefully, “Why you haven’t killed me yet.”

  She paused. “I don’t really know why,” she answered. “I suppose it’s because I’d rather let you live in pain than have to end it for you. You could’ve been selfless and killed both of us together, but you couldn’t do that. Your selfish heart drove you to keep yourself alive and dispose of the part of you that caused pain in the first place. But that was so wrong of you,” she said, touching my broken jaw. At her touch, a lethargic nothingness spread through my face—it kind of felt like death. “I never wanted to cause pain; at least not until you locked me away . . .”

  “It can’t be . . .” I said slowly.

  “It can,” she retorted. “And it is! All because of what you did to me, to yourself! To the part of you that you never should have banished! You should’ve realized I would find you again. I can’t believe you didn’t expect me.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows at her and inclined my head in confusion.

  “Perhaps the wondrous effects of Athanasia really haven’t fully manifested in you,” she said with a wry smile. “Funny, how the rest of us knew everything, while you remained in the dark for the first time in your life.”

  “They what?” I asked. “They knew? Why didn’t they say anything? How can—?”

  “Yes, they knew,” she answered in a flawless copy of my voice. “You owe the entire world an apology, Dessa. For lying, for turning your back on everyone, for locking away a part of you that you couldn't control. I warn you. If you try to lock me away again, I will drag you along with me. We’ll suffer for all eternity together, and you’ll finally see what I went through being separated from you.”

  Her eyes grew extremely dark, the golden irises shining like the sun through her half-open lids. Her lips curled up into a devilish sneer that frightened me.

  “I know the perfect way for you to die,” she said furiously. She made a motion with her hand and the webs that were holding me up completely disintegrated, sending me plummeting down to the ground.

  I seemed to be falling in slow motion; I counted the seconds too quickly, perhaps, but when my body came in contact with the ground, I cried out in anguish as the marble floor crushed me with the aid of gravity.

  “Chris,” Desdemona purred. He appeared by her side seconds after she had murmured his name, his hand upon Koorimizu.

  “Yes, my love?” he asked quietly, each word stabbing me like rusting daggers.

  “End her,” Desdemona replied menacingly. Chris didn’t even hesitate. He unsheathed his sword and looked toward me where I lie helpless on the ground, defenseless, weaponless, helpless . . .

  Where was Akarusa? Where had she gone?

  Alyssa . . . She must still be back in the woods . . . Had I brought her with me? I thought I had . . .

  Chris was walking toward me slowly, with Koorimizu now in the form of an icicle, a long, jagged piece of ice protruding from the hilt. He raised it high with only one hand; the other grabbed my wrist and twisted it backward.

  I writhed in agony as his hand broke my wrist, but I was able to swerve out of the way before his blade came down right where my neck had been seconds before. My leg collided with his, sending him to the ground in one fluid motion as I stood up from the impact.

  “Stop this,” I whispered, but he didn’t seem to have heard me. He rushed at me again, his sword held in both hands now. He rammed me into the wall, his body pinning me motionless against the stone.

  Chris held my body still, and the deadly chill began to run through his body and travel into mine, freezing me from the inside. I couldn’t move . . .

  I closed my eyes calmly, waiting for my death to come.

  He had me where he wanted me. It was over. I had only seconds left to live, to tell Chris how I truly felt about him.

  I couldn’t tell my mother and father that I loved them, and that I was sorry for failing them. I couldn’t hug Ricky one last time before my heart stopped beating. I couldn’t have another girl’s night out with Pa and watch stupid chick flicks and laugh hysterically with her. I couldn’t kiss Chris one more time. So many things I could never—would never—do.

  I looked up into Chris’ eyes as he seemed to move, once again, in slow motion towards me. His blackened sclera looked nothing like the beautiful eyes I yearned to see now before he killed me, before the blade of his cold, broken heart sliced through me. His lips were curled into the same sneer that Desdemona was wearing, and his sword was shining in the dark light of his eyes.

  I opened my mouth, despite the pain of my dislocated jaw, and whispered, “I love you.”

  I felt the metal puncture my skin, but I didn’t cry out. The cold metal mixed with my warm blood, causing me to feel nauseated . . . My head was spinning, and I felt a stab of pain coming from my stomach . . .

  I opened my eyes and looked down, but the blade hadn’t completely pierced me.

  Chris was standing opposite me, his hands clutching the sword, the tip of which had slightly stabbed me, enough to have blood pouring down my front. The wound wasn’t deep, but it hurt enough.

  He immediately pulled the blade out and released the sword from his grasp. His hands were on his head and his eyes were closed as though he was in pain.

  “Chris?” I asked calmly. “Are you all right? Is something hurting you?”

  He looked at me with crazed eyes.

  “Why do you care?” he shot back.

  I blanched, completely taken aback by this outburst.

  “Because I love you, that’s why,” I answered stubbornly. “I care because I love you, and I don’t want you to be in pain—”

  “She’s lying to you,” Desdemona purred softly from behind him. “Don’t listen to her lies. I love you; you know that.”

  Chris looked back to where Desdemona was standing with her arms outstretched as though welcoming Chris into her bosom. He turned back to me with a sneer.

  “I have no reason to lie to you,” I said calmly. “My life’s going to end today, one way or another. I have no reason to lie to anyone anymore . . .”

  Desdemona grunted unintelligibly from behind Chris.

  Why didn’t she just kill me herself? Was it because she wanted me to suffer the ultimate agony of fighting the one I loved before he finally cracked under the pressure of her brainwashing? Or was it because she was afraid?

  “If you can’t kill her with Koorimizu,” Desdemona chided, “Then kill her with your gifts.”

  Chris understood what she meant immediately, as did I. She was forcing him to freeze me.

  I was going to die slowly from the extreme cold. I would feel each of my organs slowly begin to shut down, feel my blood literally freeze in my veins, and all while they watched. They would see the agony in my eyes, but I wouldn’t be able to scream.

  “Now,” Desdemona said in a seductive whisper, “End her.”

  The minute she spoke the words, I sprang to my feet and ran.

  It was a stupid idea . . . I wouldn’t get far. But at least I could try. I ran straight toward Desdemona, my eyes flaming with anger.

  I was expecting the horrifying freezing feeling, so I embraced it when it came. It burned, yet froze me, travelling slowly from my toes upward. The upper half of my body still thawed, I looked in Chris’ direction. His evil sneer kept the ice growing at an alarming rate, and soon my legs were encased in a blanket of ice.

  My lips were shivering and short exhalations of pain came from my lips as the ice traveled even higher. It grew like a crystal, and it fed off my fear, growing steadily faster as the anxiety of death closed in on me.

  I forced myself to calm down and slowed the growth of the ice. I looked toward Chris again, and tears slowly began to pour from my eyes.

  “Christopher,” I said slowly, my tee
th chattering, “If my l-life ends here . . . j-just know that I'll n-never hold this ag-g-gainst you . . .”

  His smile faltered, and the ice slowed even more. It had reached my neck, freezing my head in place so my eyes were still staring at him, tear-streaked and shining like gold in the darkness.

  His eyes started to soften, but only for a split second. Either he had a twitch, or he had just winked at me.

  “End her now!” Desdemona screamed. Chris’ eyes were softer as he continued to freeze me, and I felt the ice crawl over my neck and freeze the back of my head, rolling forward to finally encase me completely in a block of ice . . .

  I could hear maniacal laughter from outside my crystal prison, and my skin felt the cold burning of the ice as it slowly began to kill me . . .

  My blood flow was slowing . . . it took so much energy just to listen to what was going on outside of my glass case of solitude.

  “She’ll need to be taken to a colder place so the process can complete itself much quicker,” I heard Chris say. At least he was being kind in this regard: it would be over faster . . .

  “Very well,” I heard Desdemona say as she sliced the block encasing me with Yamikage. “Just a little something to leave her with before she dies,” she explained as she sliced the ice yet again. I felt a sense of what most people call “pain,” only there was no way it could ever hurt this badly. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t breathe. My senses were drifting slowly away, and my sight was the first to go.

  The blackness muffled all my senses, taking me away to a place where the burning cold couldn't reach me.

  I could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing . . .

  I was slowly fading away, to a place where I would never harm anyone again.

  I opened my eyes to find myself in a dark room. My muscles ached no matter which way I moved them, and my eyes hurt. Pressure was being applied to my closed eyelids, and I cringed back as I remembered the feeling of the ice against my eyes . . . the scraping . . . it brought chills to my spine.

  Was this was heaven felt like? If yes, I wanted out.

  “Stop squirming around,” a rough voice ordered. “You’ll hurt yourself more than if you’d just stay still.”

  I obeyed Chris’ voice like it was my savior. My muscles throbbed everywhere, and suddenly the pressure on my eyes was released.

  I slowly opened them, and the darkness slowly morphed into a dimly lit room. I was on a table, and I was soaked to the skin. Chris’ hands worked around me, dabbing my wounds, while his eyes shined in the darkness.

  I felt a jolt of disappointment when I saw that his sclera was still black in both eyes.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked, surprised at how rough my voice sounded.

  “I don’t know,” he replied gruffly. “Something’s telling me this isn’t right.”

  I felt myself smile, even though it caused pain to move those muscles in my face.

  I started to speak, but he interrupted me.

  “Quiet,” he said. “Desdemona thinks you’re dead.”

  “Why’re you saving me?” I asked again. “Why not kill me if it’s her you want?”

  “You’re a part of her,” he said indecisively. “I can’t kill a part of her.”

  My smile left my face instantly.

  “Fine,” I replied curtly. “Just get me the hell out of here.” He nodded and picked me up in his arms, cradling my body like I was a dead lover.

  I felt so weak and powerless as he carried me out through a large set of metal doors. My limbs hung limply on Chris’ chest, useless. I felt like I was dead, and for brief moments while Chris carried me, I wished I could be.

  What was he going to do to me? Would he lock me away somewhere . . . or just let me go?

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked in a voice slightly less rough than it had been before.

  “Back to the one who knows about us,” he said, not even looking down at me. I didn’t ask him what he meant; instead, I focused on his blackened sclera. He looked so different with those eyes . . . so ruthless and cruel.

  Chris was bending down now, and I felt the cold, wet grass under my head as he placed me gently on the ground.

  “I don’t want to see you again,” he said. “Do us all a favor and stay away from Desdemona. You can’t stop her, so don’t even try.”

  I stared at him. “What if I can?” I countered.

  “If you can,” he repeated, “Then maybe there’s a chance.”

  He turned without another word and walked away, vanishing seconds later into the raindrops falling from the sky. I turned to look around and find out where I was, only to see myself sitting in the middle of Alyssa’s front yard.

  So Chris knew that she knew about us . . .

  I struggled to my feet and staggered my way over to her door. She would be home. She had to be.

  I fell against the door and she came within seconds to let me in.

  “Dessa!” she exclaimed in fear, pulling me into her house. “What’d they do to you?”

  I chuckled, but gasped in pain as the laceration on my cheek reopened, spilling fresh blood all over my shirt.

  “I’m sorry,” I said hurriedly, rushing to find a wet paper towel to get the blood out of Alyssa’s carpet.

  “Oh please,” she protested. “I don’t care about the freaking carpet. Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “I feel really weak, but yeah. I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean you’re in any condition to fight them any time soon.”

  “What do you expect me to do?” I asked insanely.

  She smirked. “I told you I could fight with you. I’m being serious. This time, let me come with you. I’ll help you, and together we’ll rescue your friends and lock Desdemona away.”

  “Wait . . .” I said. “You knew?”

  “Of course I did,” she answered simply.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?” I lashed out angrily.

  She didn’t react. She simply said calmly, “It wasn’t time for you to know.”

  “And who decided that?” I countered.

  “You did,” Alyssa answered just as calmly. “Now hold still. I need to disinfect this.”

  Alyssa stared at my face and raised a finger to my skin. Within seconds, the burning in my face subsided to be replaced with a numbing feeling.

  “Ha-ha what's this?” I asked. “Since when did you have healing powers?”

  She shrugged. “About a month ago,” she answered. “Apparently in my line of duty the ability only shows up when it needs to. It'll manifest when it needs to, and it won't disappear until I like . . . die I guess. So, for lack of a better phrase at this point, it’s in my contract. I'm the Keeper of Secrets. That's how I roll.”

  “The Keeper of Secrets, huh?” I asked stupidly. I was the Keeper of Light and I didn’t even have any clue about this.

  “The Keeper of Secrets is the one who knows everything and passes it down to her descendants over the years to protect the secret of the Keepers and Athanasia. The original Keeper of Secrets was the Keeper of Light’s closest friend that entrusted her with all the secrets of how to find the first Keeper and how to bring back the rest. She's also responsible for making sure the reincarnation of the elements goes smoothly.”

  “So it was you . . .?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “It was me. I was the one who sent Chris looking for the other Keepers, and I thought you were one of them. You were showing all the signs of your predecessor, and I went looking for Chris first, knowing he'd recognize you instantly.”

  I opened my mouth in surprise. “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Sorry, but keeping secrets is kinda my new gig now,” she added with a chuckle.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said. “It’s just good to know now, I guess.”

  “I take it Chris was the one who brought you here?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but he isn’t the same anymore,�
� I said, feeling the tears again.

  “Desdemona used her abilities on them,” Alyssa said, but not as a question. “Dessa, the only way you’re going to be able to reverse that magic is to end her. You need to erase her from existence.”

  “How, though?” I asked. “I’m too weak on my own, and even with the two of us they still outnumber us five to two.”

  “You need a weapon that can destroy the soul,” Alyssa advised.

  “Wait,” I said again. “She’s me, and I’m her. Does that mean that I have to die in order for her to die, too?”

  “It seems to be that way, yes,” she admitted with a frown.

  “So that poem . . .” I began. “It’s more like a prophecy, then?” I asked more to myself than to Alyssa.

  “That was a prophecy,” she said. “It you look very closely at Athanasia’s base, the inscription is there. That kid that gave it to you . . . did he look like this?”

  Alyssa twisted her hands in the air and a tiny replica of the emo kid with his dark hair and somber expression appeared in her palm.

  “What the . . .?” I asked with wide eyes, completely dumbfounded. “How?”

  “Like I said before,” she reiterated, “It's in my contract.”

  “But this poem doesn’t tell me how to defeat her,” I contradicted. “It only says that I have to die.”

  “Then,” Alyssa said determinedly, “Perhaps you need to kill every part of you. Your body and your soul. Destroy it, and she cannot live.”

  Training

  Alyssa took my hands in hers and squeezed them affectionately.

  “I know this sounds impossible,” she said, “But you’re gonna need to find the weapon that can destroy not only your body, but also your soul.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “How do I know what it looks like or where the hell it even is?”

  “C'mon dude! You know this one,” Alyssa replied calmly. “You saw it that day when you went into the chamber. Think. It's the only one that you brought with you besides Akarusa.”

  My eyes lit up. “Soyokaze!” I exclaimed.

  “Exactly,” Alyssa answered with a smile. “Pa’s weapon destroys your body with one blade, and your soul with the other. The part of you that you choose to destroy first is left up to you.”