Faces in the Shadows
Dieing should be easy; she had always thought that. Since she was a little girl and had seen her next door neighbour drift off into the abyss, she had thought that death was the most peaceful state the body could achieve. A calm moment, that just marked the beginning of a new era.
That was until now. Some people might have thought that being immortal, at least for a while, would allow you to prepare for death. They were dead wrong. Her power was not inclined to release her from the grips of life, and she had accepted that. Now that was changing she felt loathed to acknowledge it.
Shivers curved through her gentle frame, until she had to curl up in a ball. Finally the tremors stopped, but the cold that had settled in her bones sunk deeper towards her core. Icy blood pumped through her veins, spreading the virus, that had slowly been claiming her for weeks. Sweat trickled down her feverish brow, until she brushed at it with a trembling hand. Even in death Claire refused to be weak; it just wasn't part of who she was. If she was going to have to die undignified and alone, then she would do it with the honour she had earned in her long life. Claire sank back onto the pillows watching her golden hair fan out over the thin cream fabric. She had loved once, and in her visions of her own demise, she had always imagined herself surrounded by friends and family. But her power had prevented a child and men died around her, as she watched the world age.
Dieing should be easy, but for her nothing ever had been; and as the darkness stole through her mind, clawing at her consciousness, she realised that she wasn't alone. Voices as soft as the wind reached her through the darkness, protecting her from the shadows that tore at her soul. Faces came and she recognised those she had loved… and lost.
Dieing wasn't easy, but it was the beginning of a whole new life.