His vision was swirling, he was unsure if it was from the rain or from the fall.
He groaned, unable to move, the cool rain peppering his face.
At first, he could hear nothing, then he heard yelling.
'Useless, can't even kill yourself properly. Quick and easy my ass Roman.' He thought to himself.
He closed his eyes and attempted movement. He was surprised when he leaned forward, and even more surprised when he realized two slender hands were pulling him into their lap.
"Roman!"
He flinched.
'I'm sorry.' He thought to himself.
"Roman please stay with me."
He kept his eyes shut. His legs had started going numb, the only feeling coming from them was cold.
"Please Roman! Please don't leave me, I need you!"
'No you don't.'
"I love you damnit!"
His heart skipped a beat. He slowly opened his eyes and felt his stomach drop.
Cinder. Her makeup cascading down her face like black waterfalls.
"What?" He asked hoarsely.
"I love you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed.
He grimaced as he shifted. "Boy...you sure know how to keep a guy waiting dontcha?" He joked.
"What?"
His arm shook as he reached up and moved a clump of her hair from face. "Damnit Cinder. I've always loved you."
She laughed softly between sobs. "Damnit Roman."
She curled her fingers in his shirt, pulling him closer, his head nearly level with hers.
"Hey Cinder?" He whispered.
She nodded.
He cupped her cheek and shakily sat up. "One for the road?"
Through her tears she nodded.
Their lips pressed together, and separated.
"Why did it have to come to this just for me to kiss you?" She mumbled.
No response came, her heart plummeting as reality settled in.
"No, no, no, Roman, please don't! Roman! Roman!" She screamed.
By the time the authorities arrived, Cinder's dress had been soaked in her tears, the rain, and Roman's blood. A small pool had formed around them, a small slick oozing along the sidewalk. His skin had gone cold and clammy, paling as his blood left him.
Cinder hadn't moved, still clinging to his lifeless body as an ambulance arrived, the paramedics rushing over to take his body to the hospital. She refused to let go, screaming, thrashing, and tugging on him, doing everything she could to stop them from taking him.
"Ma'am, please let go!" One of the paramedics, a short, young, faunus yelled.
"Don't take him away please! Don't take him from me!"
She cocked her fist back, poised to strike, but thankfully, her arm was held back by the wrist, and an arm had curled around to hold her back, allowing the paramedics to take Roman's body into the ambulance.
As the doors shut, the emergency vehicle rushing off, lights flashing, siren blaring, Cinder screamed after them for several minutes, her throat growing hoarse, and eventually she was coughing and barely able to speak.
She sobbed quietly as she was brought inside the club, now devoid of dancers, only the staff present, and given a blanket to wrap around herself.
The owner of the arm sat beside her, Junior, who's usually young and cheerful face, seemed to have aged dramatically, the crows feet around his eyes seemed more prominent, his eyes themselves seemed to have sunken into the sockets. His thick black beard was peppered with the occasional grey or even white hair.
"I'm sorry Cinder." Junior whispered.
She opened her mouth, but only sobs came, and she buried her face in Juniors shoulder.
The funeral had been small, attended by a few of the bar patrons who Roman had become friends with, Junior, Cinder, Mercury, Junior's daughters, and a rather annoying crow whose cawing somehow seemed louder than the seemingly torrential downpour that had plagued the city since Roman's death.
The priest, a member of Beacon's high tier teams, stepped forward.
"In the Name of Monty, the merciful Father, we commit the body of Roman Anthony Torchwick to the peace of the grave." He began. In his left hand, a bible, and his right a vial of fire dust.
He slowly looked to Cinder.
She hesitated, her eyes resting on Roman's peaceful face, wishing she had told him sooner. With a reluctant sigh, she nodded.
The casket was gently closed.
He nodded back, setting the bible aside and opening the vial. "Roman Anthony Torchwick, from dust you came, and to dust you shall return, but may you be at peace knowing you have touched our hearts, our minds, and our souls, and may you be content in knowing you will always be a part of our family, in life and death." He tipped the vial over and the dust falling in a small plume and covering the outer layer of wood.
"Cinder, Mercury, would you like the honors?"
Mercury turned to Cinder who nodded and they stepped forward.
He presented two matches, already lit, the small flames twinkling like tiny stars.
Cinder took hers, and Mercury his, and turned to Roman's casket. They held the matches high. "Here's to the dead, and to the next man to die."
They let the matches fall. When they connected with the dust, his casket was engulfed by the flames. They stood in silence as the wood casket burned away to reveal an obsidian one beneath.
When it was over, Mercury and Cinder remained a few steps from Roman's grave as the others left.
"Cinder?" He mumbled.
"Yeah Merc?"
"I want you to know I never blamed him. Can you promise me something?"
She nodded.
"No more funerals." He whispered, his voice breaking, becoming a soft sob.
She smiled softly and patted his back. "Okay Merc. No more funerals."
They turned, and followed the others.
She smiled as they left, her appearance not tipping them off to her true identity as she passed them. To them, she was just a simple old woman most likely coming to see her husband's grave.
At first she approached a grave with what would be considered the "correct" age of her late husband, if he hadn't died more than a century ago.
She waited.
When the funeral goers all finally left, she stood, and slowly approached the freshly dug grave.
"I'm sorry Roman, but your time is not over. You still have a part to play in the coming days, and I will need you by my side first."
As she spoke, a purple hue enveloped her, the hue becoming pure energy, crackling around her, then it began to surge into his headstone.
The very earth beneath her seemed to pulse with life, a faint purple glow shining through.
She lifted her left arm into the sky and placed her right on his headstone.
"Now Roman, my first order as your new queen, I-"
The sky rumbled.
"COMMAND-"
A savage crack of thunder.
"YOU TO-"
A flicker.
"RISE!" She roared as a violent streak of lightning cut a swathe through the sky and connected with her arm, the energy surging into the grave.
She screamed in agony as a flash of white light sent her tumbling away from the grave, coming to a stop under a small tree.
One week ago, Unknown.
"Where am I?" He mumbled to himself.
"In line."
"In line?" He asked.
"Hey buddy, you know as much as I do."
His vision was still cloudy, and he felt like every limb was made of lead. Must be sedatives. Probably hallucinating from them too.' He thought to himself.
"I'm afraid you're not in a hospital friend."
He looked up at the blurry form in front of him.
"You're dead."
He chuckled. "Bullshit. I'm alive. Cinder probably has me in the hospital, I'm probably talking to a vending machine right now."
"Well, that's one way to put it."
"Wait is this some sort of prank? Merc, that you?"
"Why Roman, don't you get it?" The form seemed to get closer.
"Get what?"
"You're dead. You killed yourself." The form seemed to reach up, and Roman felt a warm sensation on his forehead.
"Blink."
He did, and his vision was no longer blurry.
The world around him seemed to fade away, and was replaced by darkness.
"What the hell is this?" He yelled.
"The afterlife. Welcome to eternity ."
Roman sighed, glaring at the far "wall", if you could even call it that. It was more of a void than wall, it seemed almost impossible how dark it was, almost as if it absorbed the rooms very light. That was another issue, the light. The room didn't have a lightbulb or anything that could generate light, yet somehow light streamed in during what he could only assume was day, then faded and vanished during what he assumed was night.
He didn't know if this artificial day/night cycle was accurate to the real sun or not, but he hoped so, as he counted the days. He was surprised, it had been a week since he'd arrived, and yet, even though he could have sworn he was dehydrated and starving, he remained unchanged, and somehow, still alive.
'This truly is hell, isn't it?' He thought to himself.
He had heard the voice that had greeted him telling the same schpeel to whom he could only assume were other people.
Unlike him, they took it quite literally, reality hitting them hard, and they screamed, begging to go back, for another chance, promising they'd be good, screaming until he heard their very vocal cords severe themselves from the strain.
Every so often his room would move, or at least it felt that way to him.
Today though, something was off, something didn't feel right.
At some point in the "day", a woman had appeared in his room, he hadn't even noticed her arrive, and the voice hadn't come to greet her, which it did for everyone else the moment they arrived.
He was hesitant to speak to her, but eventually he spoke. "Excuse me, ma'am, do you know where you are?"
"Yes Roman." She answered quickly.
He wondered how she knew his name but dropped it. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to offer you a second chance, at not only life, but being useful. I'm here to give you a semblance Roman."
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please your feedback, witty comments, sly remarks, criticism, and or hate in the comments below, I look forward to reading anything you guys have to say, anyways, see you in the next chapter.