AN: thank you Ashley- Friend of Pliers for your review… I honestly never thought I'd be getting any so soon.
-CHAPTER 7-MY FINAL BREATH-
Although Johnny couldn't see her, Freja was pacing the lounge, watching him. She couldn't read his thoughts, but she could tell that the kiss was already beginning to affect him. He was pacing also. Every time they collided, he would look up as though hoping she would appear. I can't she told herself. It would destroy him. I must let him cool off. I can't leave – it would blow his mind… I have to find a way to cure him before it is too late.
Her mind went back to one of her own memories, just before she died. She was going about her duties at the local mall where Johnny had done some "expressing" previous, when she felt a shudder surge through her aura. Her mind went straight to Johnny and she lowered her rowan staff, abandoning the woman she was healing to run to him. She had known where he lived for some time now, although an unseen force kept her from him. As she ran, the world around her began to dissolve slowly. It was then that she knew exactly what had taken place: Johnny was weakened, dying. When she finally reached Number 777, she saw a man's upper body fall into the void that surrounded the house. It was soon followed by a woman peering out of the doorway before screaming and succumbing to the gravity of nothingness. You're too late you stupid bitch, a voice told her. No! I can't be! She replied. He must be alive. Just hold on, Johnny, please!
The earth surrounding number 777 was slowly crumbling away, creating an ominous mote of emptiness. Freja steeled herself and took a running leap over the void, raising her staff and jamming it into a crack in the doorstep to save herself from the perilous fall. She scrambled up and stepped inside to see her beloved lying in a pool of his own blood. The wall-creature was looming over him, its uncountable appendages and mouths all thirsting for the blood of it's captor.
"Oh, no you fuckin' don't!" She ran to Johnny's side and turned to the menacing beast, raising her staff. She could already feel her own strength giving way as the demon hung over her, salivating limitlessly. It knows who I am, she realized. Is sees that I, too, prevented it's escape. Acknowledging her waning might, Freja opts to use willpower alone, driving her staff between the creaking floorboards, creating a shield of pure life around the two of them. She turns her back on the creature, bending down to Johnny, his body still warm. She knew she couldn't bring him back: he was too far gone. Nonetheless, there was no way she would let the beast claim him. She brushed away his fringe, caked in blood and examined the gunshot wound in his forehead. "This isn't fair," she whispered to the cadaver. "Of all the worthless, undeserving pieces of shit that I've saved… why can't you be one of them?"
Freja looked up defiantly at the beast, which faded before her eyes. She continued to watch, awed, as a huge figure rose up from the darkness. "Let him go, child," his voiced echoed with unimaginable power.
"Never," Freja shook her head, tears streaming down her face.
"I've already met him. Trust me, dear, he's not the sort a girl like you would like to introduce to your daddy."
"You never gave him a chance," she spat bitterly. "His life was fucked from the start, I was his last hope, you took that from him, Diablo."
"You misunderstand your place, sweetheart," the demon sneered. "You are alive, be thankful for that."
"I shouldn't be," she stated quietly. "I've had my life… give Nny his. Please?" she pleaded.
"I can't do that, darling. Not without a soul to replace him, you of all mortals should know that."
"Why can't you just take mine?"
"Are you willing?"
Freja looks to Johnny's lifeless body, still clutched in her arms, then back to Senor Diablo. "Definitely."
"You will have no second thoughts?"
"None," she replies instantly.
"You understand that due to your hatred towards us, you are not fit for Heaven? That you were not petty in mind therefore you cannot become one of my charges? That your soul must linger ever-Earthbound?"
Her simple answer came without hesitation: "Yes."
"Very well, child. I must leave to make sure your 'friend' hasn't made a mess of my world. I will send word to Elize, see if she can drag St. Peter from his post to aid you through the ritual. You have until they arrive to prepare."
Freja agrees and Diablo disappears into the darkness. As she looks around, Number 777 reforms around her, the rebooting of existence was a success. Releasing Johnny's body, she rises and plucks her staff from the ground and begins searching for something – anything – she can connect to herself and leave for him. Her eyes fall upon a wooden crate, sitting almost unseen in a dark corner. Using an oddly-shaped dagger found nearby, she pries apart the timber boards to find a plastic Bub's Burger Boy – perfect. The polystyrene nuggets fall to the floor as she lifts it from it's tomb and places it on a desk next to where Johnny lies. She clears up the box and puts it back in place before raising her staff over the figurine.
"Reverend Meat," she addresses it, lowering her staff. "Tell me why you are here."
"To remind Johnny C. that he is what he does not want to be."
"Promise me you won't taunt him. Do not drive him from sanity when he is so close."
"And if he denies it..?"
"He will. Just refrain from the mockery as much as you can."
"Yes, Mistress," the model turned silent, his duties acknowledged.
After a short time, Damned Elize appears, followed soon after by St. Peter. "Are you ready, Freja?" the Angel enquired.
The Mortal looks down at Johnny's body and nods silently.
"Alright. Elize and I will lend you our powers of Heaven and Hell for your sacrifice."
As though entranced, Freja kneels next to her lover's body, her left hand rested upon his shoulder, her right clutching the staff for support. The Damned and the Privileged Ones take their positions either side of her, Elize takes hold of the staff while the Saint places his hand on Freja's left forearm. The three begin chanting in a monotonous, forgotten tongue. The Mortal breaks off from the mantra, leaning in close to Johnny's still form. Uttering words that only a lover understands, she straightens his body, crossing his arms across his chest. She then presses her lips to the wound on is forehead, effectively healing it: her final task as a Key. Pressing her nose against his, she mutters the closing words of the rite, sealing her own fate.
"With my final breath I give you my life. With my final heartbeat I give you my love. As my blood runs it's final course through my veins, yours shall run anew. So this, my final breath I give to thee." Closing her eyes, she concludes the ritual with a kiss, feeling her breath become Johnny's, her heart jump-starting his, her blood flowing into him. Freja's hand slides down the staff as she sinks into oblivion…
AN: that's it so far, I'm afraid. I appear to've hit a brick wall. Which isn't really that surprising, considering I've been writing this with every snippet of spare time I've had for nearly two weeks… and thinking about it the rest of the time.
