Merciless Beauty

1. Breath of Death

It's usually something you only read about in books or watch on the screen of your television during horror nights - awakening in the dark, not knowing where you are until it occurs to you in a dreadful moment of realization. You are in a coffin, and you are dead.

Dead, cold body laid in a wooden box, dressed in white, but in the Egyptian darkness you wouldn't know that if you weren't aware of it before. Still, just like the world around, the girl made no move, and her heart did not beat a single time since August 26th. Here, six feet underneath the surface of the world of living, those who passed were left to rot, lined in alleys paved with strangers.

Yet suddenly air filled the cold lungs, with force that made the body jerk up roughly brushing the wooden lid. Empty eyes shut open, the pupils covered the irises almost entirely for a moment, but then - as if though that didn't happen - the chest slowly rested back on the sheets, eyelids fell closed, and the stillness took over once again.

Stillness was the Queen of this place. She was in control, all-mightly mistress. Still, were the bodies pavementing undergrounds of the alleys, still were the faces of those who served to ready them for their last goodbyes, still were the visitors, only sometimes breaking into mournful sobs after those given up to Stillness. This was no rule, this was a truth of this place. But there it happened - heartbeat. Deep beneath where only few are allowed, a cold heart began to beat again, breaking out from the power of the merciless ruler. Remarkable amount of air that remained underground once again found a way to the lungs that were said to be in use no more. Slowly sinking through still cold throat, coming back in small, cold breaths.

Then the eyes finally moved slightly underneath the lids, and finally opened. There was emptiness in the eyes of the Dead. There was emptiness in the mind. But both dazes cleared out within minutes. She didn't know and she didn't care where she was for the most part. She was too tired to care, yet could not fall asleep, the exhaustion was coming from something much deeper, and she felt that as it filled her with frutration. This body would not listen to her for some time, but eventually it gave up to her, and she could look around.

There wasn't much to be seen. At first there was only mysterious darkness, but as time passed her eyes got used to the darkness that no living could see through. She began seeing, with growing clarity, the white robe she was dressed in, as she laid on her back. She could feel the silk material underneath her hands that were connected on her ribcage. Soon also the satin material underneath her and the wooden walls, as well as the lid were obvious to her. It didn't take second thoughts for her to realize that she was in a coffin.

It did not make her fear at first. It came like a natural realization, like realizing she was in her bed, in her room. She looked at her hands, moved them slightly, careless about the little piece of papper that fell out as she stretched her fingers. She looked at her atlantis ring, smiling slightly at the familiar view of silver juvelly. For a few more moments she just laid still, accostumating to the darkness, but as her thoughts cleared, panic began to fill her.

She was in a coffin. Her coffin. Her pales suddenly bursted up towards the covering, pressed flat to its surface with a numb sound. Her eyes opened wider. She hit the covering once, but the same numb sound answered her, and the wood didn't move an inch. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, but the last one she wanted to believe to be true was that she was burried alive.

But as she hit the covering time and time again, with more force, it grew to be the most likely scenario. Clenching her hands into fists against the covering, she could feel cold tears dwell in her eyes. "Let me out" she tried to say, but it came out like a dry breath. Her throat was completely dried out, so much it scared her the moment she realized it. How long it's been since she last drank something?

"I'm alive" she whispered dryly, willing to call it out to someone, but realizing that not even somebody trying to listen would hear such a low, pityfull beg. She could barely make out what she said, leave alone somebody separated from her by a solid, wooden walls.

She hit the lid again. The silent, numb echo was scary. It seemed like there was nothing but gravel surrounding her. She was...

"Burried?" she asked herself desperately, clenching her eyes and letting the tears slide down her face. She progresively broke into supressed sobbing, torn apart between disbelief and fear. She feared it was true, she feared she was burried alive and now she would have to die with the most painful death, sufferring from hunger and thirst, loosing concious and regaining it time and time again until fate finally allowed her to fall asleep for the last time. She did not fear death, but the suffering that was to prologue it was unbearable even as a thereotical thought.

She calmed down. Eventually she always would, sooner than later, and this moment came to her within few minutes. She laid on her back, staring at the covering, disappointed with herself. If she did not fear death, why did she cry over being sentenced to death? Silently she admited to herself, it had nothing to do with death. It was about life that she wanted not to abandon. She looked down, at her body resting in this dreadful, little space. She was amazed with how good she could see it despite the fact, that coffin was drowning in complete darkness. She wondered; perhaps she really is dead. Perhaps this is what Puratory looks like. Staying in a coffin, bound to see your dead body, drown in memories until you realize all your sins.

She didn't believe in all this god deal. But some kind of force made her find herself in a burried coffin, and she wanted to believe it was something more powerful than some doctors' mistake. It would be such an ungraceful end.

Thinking of here and now was harder than ever, when you know that here and now is the absolute end of your being. Somewhere where you can ask no more questions and get no answers, because world no longer knows your existance. What kind of harm have she done to grant herself a room on a crazy ride like this? She didn't sin all that much because she never found any reason worth risking for.
Not that her life was pointless. Even thinking that someone might accuss her of having no sense in life made her eyebrows twitch with displeasure - she didn't hate her life. She only hated certain parts of it, certain people who caused certain events, but for the opposite she also had those who made her life worth living. Him especially.

She closed her eyes slightly. Leaving him at a moment like this was not only painful for her, but also felt like a crime committed against him. She knew there was tight bond of depending that entwined them, and no matter which one would pull away, the other one would get hurt. She was so selfish to die and let the ribbon strike at him.

But it wasn't her choice, was it? She couldn't remember how she died. But for some strange reason it was obvious to her that she did. She didn't question it, wonder that perhaps she was alive all along, because as the clarity of mind came, the realization of her state dragged along. She died, probably had been dead for a few days now if the funeral already took place and her coffin was digged.

But why was she concious and seemingly living now was a mystery to her.

Memories and thoughts were slightly puzzled, she felt like she was in a dream, and that was only adding to the will to believe it just somehow happened. She might never know the answers to the questions that bustled in her head, creating yet another daze of confusion.

She knew she died. She didn't know how, but for all she knew it wasn't suicide. It couldn't be, she wouldn't expect herself to commit a suicide, especially not since she had reasons to live for. Back before she died everything was falling into right places, the solutions to the most important bothers were right at their fingertips, why would she want to back down at such a wonderful point of life?

Funny how easy it comes to state that you died. It's not quite that scary when you feel that there is nothing you can do. You can change nothing, take back nothing, everything is done - this is what death meant to her. That regrets and wishes are silly and pointless now, because now is the moment when her actions were stilled and to remain that way forever. The only regret that she felt was that she could not say a proper goodbye.

Now it was too late. Her eyes were still wetting up at the thought, but even crying wouldn't give her rest now. What is the point of crying if it doesn't set your heart on ease?

She moved her pale to where her heart was beating. She wondered why it did, and moreover she wondered for how much longer it would. Her ribcage was moving in shaky, little breaths as she inhaled the suffocating smell of formaline, wood, candels, old flowers and gravel. Air seemed to have no more room here, she could feel herself breathe the odors, but fresh air was hardly ever heard of six feet under ground. Funny, she shouldn't be able to breathe at all.

Then again, she shouldn't be able to see in this darkness either, but she could not only see - she could even see some major details of her clothing and tell that the material she's lying on is red. She smirked - somebody must have know how she loved red. But red right here meant something more. It meant victory, power to overcome everything. She kept her smile on for a while, but it faded into gloom. No matter what she tried to convince herself, she didn't want to be dead. No matter how much she pushed it away, there was still this dread sourcing in thought that she's burried in a coffin and never to see the light again. If she could... if she only could get another chance.

Hours passed by, and she was going from one edge to another. At one second she was laughing inside at the situation, on another she was amazed by it, just to get overcame with fear, and eventually end up with tears streaming down her cheeks. How many important thoughts went through her mind - she could not count them all. And how much she wished for the most everyday moments to come back. Those that mattered to her the most.

After the marathon of edgy emotions, she was exhausted, and panic was creeping further as nothing has changed. The complete silence was driving her crazy, and she knew now that her worst problem isn't lack of food or bathroom, but the silence. Stillness, that only undergrounds could provide. Tears were in corners of her eyes, she was dried out by crying even more than at the beginning. Her hands were lifelessly plastered to the covering as she stared at them.

But slowly, yet so suddenly something happened - she could hear some sound coming from above her. Time and time again, for a few minutes, keep getting louder. For half an hour, louder. She could now tell it's shover working out the gravel that was supressing her down here. It was so hard to decide whether to be happy or scared. She wanted to get out, yes, of course, so she should be glad, but the situation was so confusing that it made her scared for her future. May those are grave robbers, may the cementary employers - how will they react seeing that she's alive? Maybe if they dig her out she will realize she is not alive, but some kinds ghost bound to lay right here. Maybe it's one of these perveted necrophiles. If they see her, who died, being alive, she would most likely end up dragged out of her coffing and someplace, repetetively brutally raped. She was by far too weak right now to fight back or get away. They could do to her whatever they wanted, and she would just helplessly let them drag her around.

In her fear she tried to move, turn around, do anything for she could no longer take just lying there and waiting for the unavoidable fate. As she was tossing and turning like that, she noticed the piece of paper that she formerly let out from her hands and didn't notice until now. She picked it up as it fell from her chest onto the red material, and clumsily moving in the little space she opened it. Even against the darkness she could clearly make out what's written on it. The familiar handwriting followed by signature made her eyes glisten with unformed tears, before she even realized what the massage was saying;

Hold on, I'm coming for You.
It won't last long, promise. I'll dig You out.
Kurt

She wiped tears off her eyes, smiling shakily as she listened into the sounds of shover up above her.

He's coming for her.

He wiped forehead with back of his palm, sighting slightly. It was the first time ever he did something like diging out a grave, and despite the fact that it was the last thing on his mind - he swore it would be the last. Not just one heck of work to dig in that deep on your own, but also lots of stress. If he was caught now- well, he didn't know what would be the consequences but it wouldn't be very nice.
But he didn't question this action, for he knew he couldn't leave her there for another night. He was already stressed with the fact that the funeral was delayed, and he couldn't stop himself from imagining how it would be if everything went wrong and she would awaken during it. She didn't, for the sake of everyone and the poor priest who would perform his job, but now - if his senses didn't fail him, she was already awake. The funeral took place just in time.

It felt so- cold, to even think like that. Casually thinking about his best friend's funeral made shivers run through his body as he thought about how it must have looked from a side. Fallen was just this kinda person who didn't allow many to get close to her, or at least she rarely got attached. Yet the amount of people on the funeral clearly showed that against pushing away, people were finding content in her presence. It was kind of awkward to know, and heavy to admit, that among those who gathered on the event, she only would shed tears after a few. Three, four. Maybe five, but not more. He used to think she only played that rough, but by now he knew her better than than, and now he knew that she really rarely allowed people into her heart.

But then again that made him cherish more the fact that he gained himself the place the nearest to her. Metaphorically speaking, but also on the funeral it reflected, as he sat the closest he could.

The whole event felt like some bad play pretendgame. Those who knew how close the two of them were, expected him to show the deepest grief of all - but he knew something they didn't, and he knew that time for his goodbyes hadn't yet arrived. So he just stood there, eyes on the ground, solemn, feeling sorrow at the thought that she might actually die for good, and barely bearing the sight of those who honestly mourned after her. But as the only person in first row - he did not shed a single tear through the whole ceremony. Even now he looked down at the thought that they could have thought he didn't care. The worse - he knew some blamed him for the last weeks. "The new boy they never knew, messing around her right before she disappears and dies, sure has something to do with that". Yeah, sure some blamed him.

He began to dig again, even faster than before. The funeral was today, he knew he had to dig her out tonight, or else he'd have to wait until the next night, making her wait there, all confused. Coming here he knew the worst risk he really took was that once he'd dig her out she would still be... 'dead'. It would hurt to take her dead body and keep her somewhere until she'd awaken, but the fortune was on his side this time - the closer he was getting, the more he could feel her there, awake.
It was confusing how his senses began working differently since it all began. Before that he only had minor level night supervision and a little better hearing, but by now sometimes he felt like he could hear and see things mils away. Also his sense of smell went crazy, he could vibrantly smell the rotting odor from some of the graves. It made it difficult to focus on situation at hand, even though he wasn'tsure the smell was real or just a part of his imagination trying to freak him out. Or maybe a trick of this new scary instinct that was lately growing in as a part of him.

He shook his head, shaking off the thought, and he was about to draw another shoverfull of gravel, when he heard, and felt, the shover hit against wood. He stared for a moment, as if though shocked to reach the box. It seemed like forever that he was digging. Even though the ground was still fresh and easy to work with, it was difficult to reach a hole that deep and wide.

With new energy he shove away the last layers of dirt from the covering, making sure he has a place to stand beside it, then he put the shover beside him and placed his hand on top of the coffin, hesitating.

He couldn't shape in words the trail it would take on him to open it, find out she's still dead, take her body, and then have her never wake up. Right now he didn't feel all that sure she's awaken. She was silent, and she would do something if she heard him dig. But she was perfectly silent, and the feeling of her being awaken could be only a foolish imagination. Knowing she would tell him it's not time for hasitation, he pulled himself together and opened the two locks that kept the lid in place.

As he gripped on it's edges, he felt his heart speed up and his whole body cover in goosebumbs. He slowly moved the heavy cover aside, inch by inch revealing the insides to his eyes. She laid there, on her back, her once combined hair were in a little mess, both of her pale hands were gripping on the massage he left her, but her eyes were closed. He almost withdrew, thinking she's unawaken, but he noticed slight movement of her chest, as fresh air found a way to her lungs.

It seemed like she hesitantely let her eyes slightly open to check out who's she dealing with, but then they fluttered completely open, staring at him in a daze and disbelief. Breath got stuck in his lungs for the time they just stared at each other like that. He stared into her eyes looking for something. He could see exhaustion, spacing out, confusion, shock, gratefullness, and exactly what he searched for - awareness. He did not see that human glisten in her eyes for weeks, and he worried he wouldn't see ever again, but here it was, back.

She stared back into his eyes as if asking a thousand questions, as if searching for a proof that this is real. She slowly sat up, obviously it was difficult with the way she was weak, so he put hand on her back, helping her up, and she kept looked at him with that spaced out glisten. Seemed like she wanted to cry but no tears were left to flow.

He didn't know what to say. He tried to figure out the right thing to tell her at this moment, but now every single one of them seemed out of place. And she could not say anything, her throat too dried out, but when a dry sigh left her lips he could see her mouth his name as she lifted her weak arms to wrap them around his neck. She pulled her weight on his shoulders, to sit straightly and clench to him as close as she could. The strongest hold around his neck that she could offer was actually easy, yet required a lot of energy of her. She was shaking partly from fear, partly from exhaustion.

He wrapped his arms around her back, answering to the embrace. "I'm here, Fallen. I'm here" he whispered as he felt relief fullfill him completley. She was back, with her humanity restolen and the only last thing between them and freedom is her process of regaining strenght. And... transforming completely.

He swallowed. One thing at a time. He withdrew from her begging embrace and looked her in the eyes. "I'll explain you everything, but now we need to fill this... grave. Well, at least I do. I'll take you someplace safe for the time, alright?" It took her a moment until she answered with a slight nod. "But I'd rather wait here" she said low, dryly, almost unaudiably.

Kurt looked at her with hesitation. "No, Fallen. You need to rest."

"I've rested enough" she chocked out, peeking down at the coffin.

He looked at the wooden box of death, realizing she's still sitting within it's walls, and it felt just not right. Without asking about anything, he picked her up bridal style - she made a suffocated shierk at that, more than disliking to be held this way or any other, but she was also too exhausted to make a reasonable complaint about it. Knowing it'd be diffictult to anyhow else get her out of the digged hole, he just teleported her up, and settled her in sitting possition on bench two metters away from the hole that was supposed to be her eternal resting place. She only watched him, too slowly grasping on him or letting go of him, and too tired to ask questions.

Kurt crouched in front of her, hands on her knees, looking at her with worry. "Are you sure you want to wait?" he asked lowering his voice almost to a whisper.

She noded.

The boy sighed, and gave her knee a squeeze, then rose up. "Alright, as you wish. But in that case I'll be back in a moment."

Fallen didn't get to answer to that, because he disappeared with a sound of air sucked in the portal after him. But as he said, so he did, and after no less than fifteen seconds, he re-appeared with a bottle of mineral water. He handed it to her.

"Here. You're dried out."

The brunette took the bottle but gave it a disappointed look.

Kurt smirked. "Ja, I know - you don't like water. But don't complain, it's for your good" he kissed her forehead. "And better be done with this bottle until I'm done burrying or else..." he warned, pointing a finger at her.

She looked up at him playfully, as if asking 'or else what?' .

Wagner smiled at that. "Just drink it" he told her friendly, then jumped into the hole to pick up the shover.

It took a few minutes. Fallen slowly tried to drink the water, which appeared difficult after having her throat dried out this much, but she could feel the progress. It didn't burn as much when she tried to speak or even breathe.

Kurt closed the lid and was shoving gravel back into the hole, which was fortunately much faster than digging it out. Every dozen of seconds he was looking back at Fallen, and finally noticed that she wrapped arms around herself and little shivers were working down her arms. Not thinking much, he sticked the shover into the ground and began to unfasten his button shirt. "I should have thought about it ealier" he told himself.

Fallen looked at him hesitantely. "You'll feel cold" she said, still with difficulties, but it came much easier than previous dry sounds from depth of her throat.

"I won't" he said low, taking off the button shirt and wrapping it around the girl's naked arms. He turned around, taking the shover again. "And soon you won't either" he added lower, almost unaudiably for the brunette, but yet she caught it.

"What?" she asked on instinct. Kurt looked around, then back to the shover. "It's... complicated. We'll talk about it later, alright?"

Seeing no other option, and not beaing eager to ask questions out loud, Fallen noded in agreement and the two continued in silence.

Well, not like she didn't expect it. After awakening in your grave and being digged out, you would have to be stupid not to expect some other weird newses to soon get to you. It's not everyday you die, come back alive and then sit and watch your grave being burried by your best friend.

Sipping the mineral water to keep her throat wet, she stared at the black gravestone with silver writing. Her name, date of birth, date of death... The last thing she recalled was a few weeks before the death date that was carved in the stone, but she didn't want to ask about it just yet. Kurt said he would tell her everything later, and she held him on to that.

Man, what a night.