Lila

Your soul is black? Haha, I don't have one.

Everybody is surrounded by death. It's like a bathing suit that clings to your skin; an aura that is inescapable.

What do you see when you meet someone new? Their eyes? Their hair? The way their moves when they talk?

I see their life's end.

You see a little boy playing on a swing. I see that, but I also see a bullet plunging into his skull.

You see a puppy playing fetch. I see that, but I also see her spine being smashed by a metal baseball bat.

It plagues me and my every thought. It reminds me of how fragile life is. My only solace is the fact that when I look in the mirror, I see me.

Only me. Only the glint of my amber eyes, the amalgam of shadows that is my hair, and the dark lines near my eye, the remnants of past bloodshed.

Despite this curse of mine, I know not of my passing. I have no aura, but I'm not sure why. Is it the nature of the ability? Am I immortal? Am I outside fate?

I have no idea.

The ability doesn't work on Chiron or Dionysus. Beings beyond fate don't really register. Strange, since it works on plants, but not them. It even works in cells, as I found out in my seventh grade science class.

I never forget what someone dies from. It's present like their name. John? Oh he's the guy that's going to die from a punctured lung in a car accident.

Except that conversation would never come about. I'm incapable of telling other people, and as far as I know I can't do anything to stop it.

The constant morbidity has made me numb to death. It's become a fact of life. I no longer fear it.

Just like any person with high self-esteem can laugh at themselves, I have learned to laugh in the face of death. It's pretty easy sometimes. For example, said seventh grade science teacher walked around with an ever-present vibe of "autoerotic asphyxiation." I got so many referrals that year because I'd laugh at him whenever he walked by in the hall.

Movies, books, and TV shows aren't very much fun anymore either. It even works on fictional characters. I enjoyed reading the four Harry Potter books because the themes of death but moreso because a plot point unknown to me turns my ability into nonsense. Somehow Harry, Voldemort, and his snake die in the same exact way but they also don't don't die at all. I can't wait for the next book to come out, if only to sate my curiosity.

My ability to see death was completely broken for the first time in December 3rd, 2000.

I was staying at camp for a few days. It was the place I went when the Albatross Huntress was out of commission and mild mannered Melanie Sanders took her place. I was planning on leaving the next day, but bounty hunting took backseat for saving the world I guess.

It was a cold day, and my fear of fire thoroughly dissuaded me from sitting at the campfire. Instead I decided to turn to the dead for some warmth.

I forgot to mention that I have more than one ability. If seeing death is my curse, speaking with it is my blessing. I can commune with the dead. Any advanced child of Hecate can do it too, but that requires prep, materials, and time. I can do it on a whim.

A son of Hermes who died in 1996 was in the cabin at the time. He says his name is Tony. When I met him, I saw that the way he died was by getting his soul ripped out. That's one of the stranger deaths I've seen.

Anyway, Tony knew of a place I could get warmed up at without fire. I jumped at the chance to get out of the crowded Hermes cabin. Those sleeping bags are extremely uncomfortable.

I follow Tony as he guides me toward the forest. I'm not afraid of anything in there, so I guess I didn't care much.

I'm talking with Tony about his sister, his past, and a few other things. Eventually he settles upon his ability to see the future. Apparently it even works in death.

He casually drops the lines to something that sounds like a prophecy.

"Twelve gifts, potential untold.

Eleven curses, pain to unfold.

Eleven souls forever entwined.

Twelve bodies left behind.

Two powers bestowed to each,

And three levels for them to reach."

I look at him in confusion. "Did you just give me a prophecy?"

"Yeah," he says, "but I don't know the last two lines. Asphodel really messes with your memory. I don't even know where I heard it."

"Do you think it could have anything to do with my ability to see how people die?" I ask.

He says, "I'm not sure. It seems like it, given the blessing and course nature of your powers. Maybe you should see if the oracle can give you any information on it."

"I just might. It seems too bi- What the hell?"

Sparring in the arena are two boys. One of which, James, I used to date. I haven't had many relationships, but James was something else. When the relationship ended, I was halfway convinced that the perpetrator of his death would be "scorned ex girlfriend," but alas, I am not easily capable of causing somebody to be eaten by a ichneumon. If it can kill a dragon or calcatrix, I'm sure it can kill a dolt like Jimmy.

I actually don't know what any of those animals are. Damien told me to write that down. He gave me a book on mythical creatures, but I suck at reading in English.

The boy he's fighting against doesn't seem as lucky though. Despite his sword sitting directly in front of him, he remains unarmed. James is slowly encroaching on him.

That's not what was weird about the situation though. The boy who had dropped his weapon didn't seem to have a foreseeable death. He had no aura. He was like me.

In a panic, I decided to intervene in the sparring session. Bending the shadows in the arena, I turned them against the two. Just as James brought down his sword toward the deathless boy's head, a torrent of darkness surrounded them.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the boy jumps out of the cloud and makes a grab for his sword. As James comes out, the boy hits him with the flat of the blade.

James gets disoriented and the boy breaks into a flurry of complicated martial arts moves. Landing a punch on his liver, James falls on the ground in a fetal position.

I admit it felt a little good, but you wouldn't be able to tell from my face. Conditioning has left my emotions purely internal. I can't have pesky feelings showing up on my face.

Given this turn of events, I decide to go talk to the boy. He's sitting on a bench fiddling with a bow. I don't see what the point of bows are. As far as I can tell, pistols work fine for killing people, and monsters too if the bullets are made of the right stuff.

I tap him on the shoulder to wake him up from the world in his head. He looks me up and down, as if he is making a mental assessment. It's as if I'm a video game character and he's sizing up my stats to see which skill he should invest. It doesn't feel very nice.

"What's your name?"

"Damien. Why do you care?"

In my usual monotone, I say, "I have the ability to see exactly how people die. You're the first person I've ever seen that's not me that is immune to this ability."

"And what does that exactly does that mean?" he asks.

"Are you aware that you have no fate?"

Well there you have it. That was Lila, known as Melanie to you, the daughter of Hades. Thanks Pixelfun20 for sending her in. I hope this lived up to your expectations.