The past is a dangerous thing.
Warnings for : using knives as weapons, mentions to murder/homicide, mentions to past deaths
Chapter Twenty Eight - Priest of Death
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"Wait- Scared?" Pulling back to look at his mate's expression, Danny shook his head, growing confused. "What would you be scared of?"
"I'm scared...that you'll be afraid, if you learn the truth." Danny shook his head again, even further confused.
"The truth about what? And why would I be scared?" Not getting an answer, Danny frowned, nudging the other to try and get his attention. "Andrew...are you okay? I mean, I get the feeling you're about to tell me something pretty serious-"
"That's just the thing, mon cher, it's not something I can tell you." Feeling fingertips settle on his temples, Danny's eyes widened as he felt the spark of power that went into him. "It's something I can only show you…"
A flash of darkness, as well as the feeling of weightlessness that was by now far too familiar, and Danny looked to see he was standing...in an alleyway? It was night, from what he could see, and the only real light was the street lamps, thick and heavy clouds covering the stars and moon. A former rain storm had drenched the city, leaving the streets glistening and slick, and the sound of dripping water echoed down the streets every few seconds.
There was an overwhelming scent of something he could only place as the city, the smell of car fumes, of windows open to houses, of the rain itself. It was overwhelming, almost, to go from his mate's bedroom, to something like this. "Hey, uh, Andrew...where are we?"
"Bending reality is only the beginning of my powers, mon cher~" Hearing the voice of his mate, Danny jerked his head around, seeing Andrew standing at the end of the alleyway, wide grin on his face. "I can also show you my memories! I've never actually tried this, so I'm rather amazed it worked!"
"Your...memories?" Cautiously walking towards his mate, Danny looked around again, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. Something he wanted to show Danny...that he thought he would be afraid of? Something from his memories...
"Mhm, this is from the time I was your age, I believe," Andrew laughed, still far too cheerful for the dismal scene around them. Feeling his hand grabbed, Danny blinked as he was pulled away from the alleyway he had arrived in to another one a block or so down.
"And, uh, what exactly is it you wanted to show me?" Danny nervously asked, feeling that overwhelming sense of dread grow and grow.
"You never even thought to ask, did you?" Andrew asked, eyes half lidded and smile wicked as he pulled Danny closer, fingers moving to tilt his chin up. "All these months, and you never thought to ask why my power is so strong. Why I can fight the way I do. Why I could kill any ghost or human I wanted...without any use of my powers…"
"Andrew?" Danny flinched as he was spun around, gaze landing on an alleyway that held a middle-aged man, panting heavily and looking behind him as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. The glint of metal was all Danny saw before the man fell forward, three knives in his back, utterly and completely dead. A second later and a teen jumped down from the fire escape that was attached to the building.
Danny didn't need to hear his mate, to know who it was.
"Things were quite interesting, back then! Missions almost every night, targets that encompassed half the world! Never a moment of boredom!" The teenage Andrew, unable to see them, who were from a different time, casually and indifferently removed his knives, sparing not even a glance to the deceased man.
"You…" Unable to finish, Danny looked to his mate, eyes wide.
"Was an assassin," Andrew smiled, arms clasped behind his back as he glanced to his younger self. "A rather good one, too. I was known as the Priest of Death- A rather frivolous name, but I suppose I grew attached to it." Danny blinked as Andrew was once again grabbing his hand, pulling him into a twirl, and smiling widely. "You once told me of your future, yes?" Danny only nodded, memories flashing to the future he had fought so hard to change. "You see, mon cher, your future...was my past."
The memory around them switched, a sunny scene where a small seven year old peeked out of the corner of a building, eyes on a wealthy looking woman, and a knife clasped in his hand. "The bell chimes one, the battle's begun." Another memory, of a rainy day, green eyes locked on the sight of two small children playing. "The bell chimes two, he'll catch you too."
A family of four walking down the street, not seeing the knives that went flying towards them. "The bell chimes three, it's still a mystery." A warehouse plotting the death of those in power. A warehouse of men who never left alive. "The bell chimes four, he's lurking at your door." Deep in the sewer, where someone fled, not knowing the knife slash to their arm carried the most deadliest of poisons. Not seeing the small child that waited ahead, shining silver knife in hand. "The bell chimes five, you won't be alive."
An entire village, sealed off and desperate to escape, but not seeing the fires that had already started. A village made of wood was so easy to burn, after all. "The bell chimes six, a new victim he picks." A luxury train never knowing that their conductor's neck had been slashed, and the brakes disabled, their speed increasing and increasing and increasing. "The bell chimes seven, he brings you to heaven."
A young adult, arguing with men who had controlled him his entire life, knife in hand before he realized, thrown before he could stop it. The arguing stopped, and the laughing began. "The bell chimes eight, already too late." Hundreds in the chase. Hundreds failing. Hundreds dying. "The bell chimes nine, you're out of time." Nothing but a twisted grin, shining eyes, and glittering knives. Nothing but a hell disguised as heaven.
"The bell chimes ten, the Priest rises again."
Danny watched everything, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to form a response to what he was being shown. "You see, mon cher, why I had to show you? How could one ever explain in words all that I've done…" The two were in a new memory, in a library that they both knew, watching a tired adult study for finals. "The night that you appeared, why, I thought it was hell finally come to collect it's lost child- It's very own Priest! In a way, I suppose it was… My sweet angel, come to cast away the false prophet who had slaughtered thousands."
The memory played on, Danny watching as a version of himself appeared, the once assassin looking up from where he was collecting books, confused for a second, but slowly smiling. "Kids aren't allowed in the college library, you know." Feeling Andrew's hand rest on his cheek and tilt his head back towards him, he blinked at the look he was given. "So, mon cher, there's really only one question to ask at this point… Scared?"
The answer was instantaneous, not a second of pause, or moment of thought.
"Never." Seeing the look, Danny slowly smiled himself. "You were never scared of my future, why would I ever be scared of your past?"
"Because that future was something that never came to fruition, while my past is one set in stone...there is no changing what I did." Danny shrugged, moving to wrap his arms around his mate and pull him closer.
"So? Doesn't change how I feel about you, or how safe I feel with you. Even after all you've shown me...I still feel utterly and completely safe with you. Like I said, with you, I don't have to be the hero...I don't have to be the one who sacrifices everything to save the day."
"I don't regret what I did, Danny… Not any of it. If I had a chance to change how my life unfolded, I don't even think I would be bothered. My past may be one I try to forget...but it's not one I regret." Danny hugged the other tighter, smile still on his face.
"I'm not asking you to. I'm just happy you trusted me enough to share."
Memories of the past.
Nightmares of the future.
Both kept close.
Both forgiven.
Fun Fact : My twin, Kas, wrote the Priest of Death poem Andrew sung, as well as the last four lines.
