Lady Death

The flash of light came from nowhere, unexpected and impossible to stop. The hateful, angry face of the red-haired woman was banished in the explosive burst of green, and the laughter caught in her throat as the bolt of light collided with her chest. For one moment, one indescribably long moment, a hundred faces filled with fear filled her view, a hundred dead souls exacting their final revenge on their tormentor and killer. And then there was blackness.

It seemed like an eternity before she awoke, before she felt the searing pain that pierced her body. She opened her eyes, the effort involved so monumental as to testify to all the power of her will. She blinked rapidly, finding herself in darkness unbounded. Her breathing ceased. She was dead, and did not need it, but it still came reflexively. After a long and breathless pause, there was light, and she could see herself.

She was completely nude, but this did not bother her. She had prided herself on being completely comfortable with her body. She had prided herself on her beauty. She had prided herself on her complete willingness to complete her master's will. She had also prided herself on always being able to carry out his will and to do so with the utmost confidence

As she beheld her form, she found herself much as she had expected. She was as she had been before she had died, dark hair falling around her shoulders, perfectly manicured nails sharp and crusted with blood. She did not expect, however, to find a great many deep cuts across her body, constantly bleeding, dripping quietly to the ground below. She let out a slight gasp of surprise, suddenly wishing to have clothing with which to cover these shameful lacerations.

Almost instantly, a plain black dress appeared on the ground a few feet from her. Standing, she made her way to the dress and slowly began to put it on. It hid many of her scars well, though there were still many more that could not be covered at all. Taking this into consideration, she ignored those scars that remained visible and began to explore the place.

Darkness and shadow hid all but that which was immediately around her such that she could only see a few feet in any direction. This was, of course, a great hindrance to her exploration, but as it would turn out, the darkness hid absolutely nothing. No matter how far she walked and no matter in what direction she searched, there was nothing but plain, unbroken white floor. It was a place of total peace, disturbed only by the disfigured woman who now attempted to find meaning to it.

It cannot be said how much time passed in this way, with her searching for something, anything at all, before she finally did. Suddenly, there was a whimpering, a pathetic crying that rang out clearly through the silence. She turned and ran through the darkness toward the source of this noise and nearly faltered when she found it. Even in this state, even as horribly disfigured as he now was, it was impossible for her not to identify her master.

Slowly, as the shock wore off, she stooped to carry her master in her arms. She raised him, but he was no longer the tall, powerful, commanding presence he had been in life. He no longer had the flawless alabaster skin that had once called out to her, long ago on a winter night during her teenage years. He was anything but that which had been her desire in life.

What had once been a man, tall and statuesque with skin of the purest white and a presence at once commanding and inspiring, was now a small creature. Hardly the size of a fœtus, the form appeared to have been flayed raw, and the skin was red. Deep wounds bled out, and the eyes were closed so tightly that new cracks constantly formed near the eyes. The thing let out an almighty screech of pain that was even more jarring than its writhing.

It settled into a fitful sort of rest in her arms, and it was almost as if she could feel its thoughts. There was uncertainty, the question of why it had not seen this coming, what it had not understood. There was, though, grandeur, understanding of superiority and finally complacency. Details were not forthcoming about these thoughts, but they seemed to sooth the being, and that was all that mattered.

Again she wandered, carrying her infantile master with her, again finding nothing at all. She wandered like this for days, watching from the shadows as a small number of others appeared and disappeared. It seemed to her that a door opened in front of them and they stepped through before the door closed behind them forever. She always tried to get to that door before it had closed all the way, but it was always gone the moment she arrived. Never once did she set down her master, never once did she abandon him.

It came to pass, however, that she thought longingly of the door, of the freedom it represented, and there appeared the door in front of her. A great dark archway that encompassed all of the visible area stood tall and monolithic, an imposing sight in a world of complete darkness. The door of that archway creaked open, revealing a lightly fluttering veil that marked the entrance into final rest. Standing, not believing that it was truly there, she cradled her master and took her first step toward the door, knowing it would not close this time.

Each step after the first grew increasingly more difficult, and it seemed that she never came closer to the door. Her steps fell heavily, and her arms sagged under the weight of her writhing, whimpering master. She could feel its fear and while she immediately hated herself for doing it, she set her master down on the cold, blank floor.

The weight lifted from her immediately, and her body felt as if it had just been rested. She took a tentative step forward and found that she was closer, now, to the door. Another step and another demonstrated to her that she could be free, if only she chose to abandon her master. Another step and another brought her closer to the archway until she finally stood before it, until she could literally touch the veil.

Once again she felt her master's thoughts. She felt its fear, suffered its anxiety. She could feel the questions that came from him. Why did I not see this coming, what did I not understand? She looked back, seeing only darkness but hearing the gasping, sobbing cries. She stepped through the archway, through the veil, thinking forever of her master as the door closed behind her. She caught the last of the thoughts before the last sliver of light from that limbo disappeared.

At one time forsaken, but forgotten I am not.

It knew what she had done.