They say one's life flashes before her eyes before she dies.
They faced one another, eyes ablaze, fighting less each other at the moment and more the need to collapse on their knees. His breath was heavy. Her teeth clenched in a vicious, bloodthirsty snarl. The fate of the battle no longer was a question of physical strength; the both of them were completely exhausted.
They looked up from the bloodstained ground, and their eyes met, and the intensity in her gaze was overwhelming. He was the first to fall. Her eyes widened, her pupils shrank. This was the moment of truth. Her chance had finally arrived. The thought of finally fulfilling years of pursuit, a desire that had been fermenting within her for as long as she cared to look back quirked up her lips, and she hesitated for a moment. He looked so vulnerable there on his knees, clinging to his spear for support; could it be this easy?
They say one sees a bright light before she dies.
Through his wounds, he once again met her gaze. "What are you waiting for...? Your chance has come. Are you so foolish that you wouldn't-"
"Shut your filthy mouth," she snapped, managing to stand straight. Her hands gripped the handle of her trishulas, and her knuckles grew white under her gloves. "I've waited for this for long enough."
"Then do it. Prove your worth." He snarled.
How dare he say that? Damn him. Damn him! Her cool composure vanished.
Her eyes narrowed and with one final rage-filled "Shut up!" she delivered a swift kick to the side of his face. He dropped to the ground with a grunt and attempted to push himself back up before she gently kicked his spear out of his reach. The weight of her foot on his chest forced him down again.
They say one sees her own body from the outside before she dies.
He slowly shut his eyes and took as much of a breath as her foot would allow him to. "I am sorry for the pain I have brought to you and yours." She scowled, and he continued. "While I do not regret my actions..." His next words tore through her like a thousand blades.
"I can sympathize."
An inferno ignited in her belly, and her voice rose uncharacteristically. "You think you can sympathize?! You know nothing of me!" She stamped her foot into his chest, digging her boot into his sternum. It popped, and she was met with his grunts and groans of pain. "You don't know how it feels to never see your daughter smile again!" Tears welled in her eyes at the memory of little Zhao Ying smiling warmly back up at her mother. Removing her foot, she reared back and kicked him in the side as hard as she possibly could. "You have no idea what it's like to want to play games with your sons every day of your life, and yet they're nowhere to be found!" She continued her ruthless beating of him, and his cries of pain grew louder as she repeatedly struck an open wound with her foot. "Do you think you can sympathize with having your entire reality torn away from you by one selfish, foolhardy man?!"
Her attack continued until her strength left her, and she collapsed with her knee digging into his stomach, and his cries of pain died down into heavy breathing and ragged sighs that almost sounded like whimpers. "I'm sick of hearing your voice, and I'm sick of seeing your face every time I wake up, and every night before I sleep," She gripped her trishulas tightly, and raised them up. "It's time I ended it. I will have my vengeance, Death God of Xiliang." He shut his eyes.
They say one feels as though she's going through a tunnel before she dies.
A sickening thunk rang out, and she remembered how to breathe again. She opened the eyes she hadn't realized were tightly shut, and saw it. The most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. Ma Chao, her sworn enemy, the one she had desired to see dead by her own hand her entire life, was lying there, a bloody heap. She removed the trishula from his chest, and a vile sucking noise emanated from his body as it slowly slid out. He didn't move. For the first time in her life, and yet only for a fleeting moment, she felt at ease. His face swam before her vision, marred with scrapes and bruises. She considered closing his eyes for him, but that would bring him peace. The sadistic side of Wang Yi desired nothing less. He would suffer just as she did.
She collapsed on her back next to him, his blood trickling slowly into the fabric of her cloak. A strange feeling washed over her, one she couldn't identify. She had never felt anything like it before... or perhaps she had, but so long ago she couldn't remember it anymore. She searched back through her mind, through the memory of holding her husband's hand, hugging her daughter, playing tag with her two little boys, and it slowly became more familiar to her. Finally, she had found what she was searching for. She was at peace.
The shine in her eyes faded slowly as a thought came to her. Ma Chao was dead. The only reason she went on living was gone. She stared at her hand, hoping her husband's would appear there once again. It didn't. Her children weren't sitting next to her. Her eyes narrowed, and she felt them well up. She sat up, and noticed herself soaked in his blood, and she quickly rolled over. The peaceful feeling faded away as quickly as it came, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of filthiness-she scrambled quickly over to a small puddle of water near them and frantically splashed the water over herself, but even as the blood slowly washed off her skin, she still felt it there, seeping into her and tainting every inch of her.
They say one becomes fully aware of her surroundings, more in tune than she ever thought possible, before she dies.
She slammed her fist down into the puddle in rage, muddy, murky water splashing onto her face. Revenge meant everything to her-for years and years she dreamed of the feeling of destroying this man, and now what? It was over. And she felt nothing except an exhausted purpose. She felt almost stupid for thinking it would bring her happiness back.
'What, you fool? You thought it would bring them back?' His voice nagged in her ear, and she gripped and tugged at her hair, violently shaking her head. "Shut up!" she snapped. "Get out of my head! Get out, get out, get out! Leave me be!" She shut her eyes, trying in vain to fight back the tears streaming down her face.
His voice became a harsh whisper, and she could swear she felt the sting of his breath on her ear. 'You have fulfilled your greatest desire, Wang Yi. In so doing, you have killed yourself as well.' Her eyes widened.
"You're wrong..." she muttered, picturing the faces of her family-she was unable to see them without their marring by the man she despised so much-and they were bruised, bloody, beaten. All of them convincing her she did the right thing by slaying Ma Chao. "My family deserved your death... they all deserved it... I deserved it."
His voice became more and more faint, more young, more feminine. Zhao Ying. "What will you do now, mother?"
A pause. The voice repeated itself. "What will you do now, Mother?"
They say one sees the faces of her loved ones before she dies.
She covered her mouth, the tears staining her eyes and cheeks red. The lump in her throat refused to allow her words passage. Her daughter's sweet voice, a voice she thought she had completely forgotten the sound of, sounded pained to her. The weight of it all doubled her over, and she buried her face into the ground as she sobbed. Unbidden, memories of her children flooded back to her. Zhao Yue falling and scraping his knee on a walk by the river, Wang Yi picking him up and carrying him on her back all the way home. Zhao Ying playing hide and seek with her brothers under her mother's watchful eye. Zhao Ang holding her hand in one of his, and their son's in the other. And then they all faded away with the realization that no matter how much of her revenge she takes, no matter how dead Ma Chao was by her hand, they would never come back.
She had exhausted her purpose. Revenge was all she had, and she had lived through it... but she was dead. Her body lived. But her eyes, her soul-she was hollow, a shell of emptiness and sorrow. She had not lived. She had never lived. She had died with her family, and only her body lived on to destroy him, which is exactly what it did. Now she was a blank slate, with no feeling or emotion anymore. She finally realized she was incapable of it. And that destroyed her inside.
They say one begins thinking clearly and rapidly, as if her thoughts for the moment are all there are, before she dies.
She took a breath with the realization of her new duty, her forehead still pressed against the wet ground. Slowly she rose to her knees, loosely held one of her trishulas in her hand, and stared up at the sky. The afternoon sun blinded her, but the light seemed to envelop her, as though she would be sucked into it. She shut her eyes tightly. "Don't think..." she muttered, wiping her tears before tightening her grip on her weapon. "Don't you dare think I will ever forget who I did this for. Don't you dare think I will forget who I am. And don't ever think..." she paused a moment, readying herself.
"Don't you dare think I'll ever forget my purpose."
She felt a snap as the skin of her stomach split open. Any sensation beyond that was quickly forgotten as she fell slowly onto her side, sliding her weapon out as she fell. It gently dropped at her side, the hilt touching against her outstretched arm. Her eyes opened wide for a moment, and she coughed once. A spatter of blood slowly trickled from her mouth, and she smiled, knowing exactly her fate, knowing exactly her destination, and knowing exactly her mission. Was this truly peace? She had a moment to mull it over in her mind as she watched the blood pool in front of her. The thought made her smile slightly, and her eyes drooped before closing and enveloping her in the warm light she felt emanating from the sun.
But most importantly, they say one experiences an overwhelming feeling of joy and unconditional love before she dies.