Kiss of Death - 3. Visions of the past

Leandro P.O.V

“Now’s not the time for second guesses,” he says, looking at me with desperate eyes. I look him over pondering the question then to the encroaching danger and back again. It’s not like I have a choice.

“I do,” I say with a nod of my head. He pulls me into him and before I can say anything he steps off the edge. Wind rushes past. It's cold and sharp. It cuts threw my clothes and my mouth goes dry. Did this idiot really just make us jump to our death?

I grip onto him for my dear life as the city life plays in the background like a noisy soundtrack. A warm glow emanates from him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see wings drape around us, illuminated with unnatural gold light. They slowly unfurl and begin to flap against the force of gravity propelling us upwards and away from the creatures.

“You can fly?!?!”, I exclaim, looking up at him as he glances down with a pleased expression.

“Yeah!” he chuckles ”I didn't think that would actually work.”

“What?!?” I yell in confusion.

“When the Gods sent me, they stripped some of my abilities so I could seem more human. I wasn't sure if I could still do this.”

“Are you serious?!?” I retort in slight anger ”Did you seriously just drag me of the edge not knowing whether or not we would plunge to our death?!?”.

“Basically.” he states ”I'd like to think of it more as a leap of fate and besides this was a fun way to figure out if I still could.”

“Fun? You think this is fun? We could've died” I exclaim.

“ It's better than letting those creatures make us their chew toy.” he says snarkily. I half-open my mouth to protest but shut it abruptly.

“So what were those things? Where are we going? Why are they after us? What…”

“Ease up on the questions or I will drop you” He states coldly.

“Sorry. It’s just, nothing like this has happened to me before.” I explain

“I hope so, otherwise you were extremely unprepared,” he says sarcastically.

“You don't have to be such a dick.” I retort.

“On the contrary, being a dick happens to be my specialty. You humans never complain besides we both get what we want in the end. One of your basic functions is sex so I just fulfill the need and very well I might add” he says as shifts his hold on me, sliding his hands towards my hips, stopping millimeters before my ass.

“What do you think you're doing. I suggest you remove your hands.“, I threaten.

“Or what.”, he cocks an amused brow at me. He daringly tries to explore further. He’s really trying his luck.

As if reflex, I knee him in the crotch, automatically regretting my decision. I begin to plummet towards the ground at an alarming rate. The wind rushes past me, too harsh to be able to breathe. I'm lighted headed. My vision begins to darken like a drop of ink, delicate unfurling in a glass of water, corrupting the colourless fluid with it's darkening touch. I feel suspended within it, victim to it's viscosity. A splash of light, intervenes, illuminating the darkness briefly but repetitively like the sky during a fireworks festival. A ringing followed by a muffled voice calling as the light becomes more frequent, vibrant, blinding, bathing everything in a halo of white. At once it dissipates. My eyes slowly flutter open. The sky above me, a murky blue, appears unsettled by the sheer number of stars, almost as if it were enthusiastically scattered across a broad canvas by an excitable child, moon dust against a grayed silhouette. I’ve never seen so many stars. Propping myself up on my elbow, I vaguely recall the sensation of lips tentatively pressed against my own.

“Good. You’re awake.” Azrael says with a hint of relief in his voice.

“What was that all about?!? Are you fucking crazy?!?” he yells.

“You almost died. If I hadn't...” he pauses, a flicker of concern passes over his face “Just don't do that again okay?”

“Excuse me? If you didn't think you could get frisky with whoever you want and thought with your head for once and not your dick then maybe it wouldn't have happened.” I state.

“I’m sorry you can’t take a joke. Do you really think I'd hurt you like that?”

“I dunno. We've literally just met this morning. I don't know why you're acting like I should know you.” I exclaim. He stares at me with a mixture of guilty-shock as if retaliation is something new to him. His eyes don't seem to match his body language, like there is something he's not telling me. They become softer, more humane. It catches me by surprise. They seem to whisper 'you do'. Am I losing my mind? The moment, just as easily as it came, it passes. What was that a second ago?

“Hey. I'm a God. You should treat me with respect.” he retorts.

“That's rich. You can't expect something that you can't give.” I contest. He tries to say something but only succeeds at gaping his mouth like a fish out of water.

Defeated he sighs “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Truce?” he asks offering his hand to help me up.

“Truce.” I say placing my hand in his.

“So, Where are we anyway?” I question, taking in the surroundings, noting the mane shift camp and crackle of the fire that sways drunkenly, providing us with some warmth.

“A small town just on the outskirts of the city. After you took a fall, I thought it'd be best to stop for a while. You know to recuperate and stuff. We should be safe for now but even so, I think we should sleep in shifts just in case. They’re probably looking for you as we speak so we should get what we need and leave as soon as possible.” he explains.

“You can go first,” I suggest.

“Are you sure?” he asks uncertainly.

“Yeah. I doubt dawn is that far away. You’re basically doing all the work anyway so you should get some rest. This way, I can make sure you won't get up to any of your antics.” I assure.

“Come here,” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Why?” I question.

“Just do it.”

“Fine,” I state. He takes his shirt off and produces his scythe, drawing two long lines across his left pectoral. It doesn’t bleed but instead glows a faint cerulean hue. He holds out his hand and tentatively puts mine in his. I’m still unsure of what he intends to do. He pricks my thumb with the pointed end of his scythe, not deep, just enough to draw blood. He swipes the bleeding thumb across his self inflicted wound and states “ I Azrael, God of Death, promise not to harm you, Leandro Griffin, for as long as we both may exist.”

It glows golden and scars his perfect physique. “That should be good” he whispers.

“Why?” I ask, extremely puzzled.

“I’m not someone you should ever have to fear,” he says simply, plopping down by the warmth of the fire and getting comfortable. After a few minutes, he starts to snore lightly. He seems at peace.

Azrael P.O.V

A storm is brewing. It rumbles angrily causing faint blue sparks to dance across the nest of grey bumps. The shore is every bit as dull and uninviting. Lined with stones and jagged earth that stretch ferociously upwards at obscured angles, they almost resemble the form of blackened daggers. Unsettled waves beat themselves violently, grotesquely against the untamed shore. Each strike dismantles the formation causing it to spray outwards, drenching me in a cocoon of fluid salt.

I raise my hand protectively to shield my self against the watery onslaught. Squinting my eyes to take in the full picture, I experience the unsettling sensation of déjà vu. It’s been many lifetimes but still, this moment seems to derive joy in tormenting me.

“You failed us!” a voice cries from the wind ”We trusted you.”

Arms emerge from the murky depths, rupturing the crinkled surface. They thrash about desperately, just beyond my reach. Bloated and pruned from the water, many try to grab at the open air for some form of leverage to rest their tired limbs. Unfortunately, as they did then, they don't find any solace now. They cry out , eerily sharp, voices not affected by the distortion of the elements.

All I can do is watch as they, one by one, struggle against their last burning breath. Each one eventually giving into what would have been a kind release. The overwhelming sensation of guilt pushes me to my knees as I watch the horrific scene unfold in front off me. My head seethes with unbearable heat. It feels like I'm about to burst.

A girl consumed in pale light flutters down, hovering just in front of me. She bends down to look at me. Her eyes are hollow. Black pits against a stark white canvas.

“Azrael, I'm scared. I don’t know where I am. I don't want to die” she pleads.

“This can't be real.” I vocalise. It has to be a dream.

“But it’s not a dream big brother. You let us die.” she snickers evilly ”You lead us to our watery deaths.”

“I didn’t… I that's not what I intended.I was trying to save us.” I protest.

“Why did you do it?” her voice comes out small and childish with a hint of melancholy. The voice I remember from our youth. The familiar comfort throws me off guard.

“I'm sorry. I only wanted to give us a second chance at life.” She doesn’t seem to hear me.

“Why did you do it !?!?” she whales, her voice louder and more prominent. The voices from before seem to catch on chiming in unison. She weeps. Translucent fluid flows from the place her eyes used to be.

“I didn't do it!” I yell as I wake up in a cold sweat around the campfire startlingly Leo.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asks watching me worriedly.

“I think so. Bad dream.” I remark, trying to regain my dignity.

“Wanna talk about it?” he offers.

“Not really,” I say flatly.

“Okay,” he says as he starts prodding the fire again.

“Wait.” I exclaim grabbing his attention “I’ve never really talked about it before. It’s something that's hard to explain.”

“No one is holding a gun to your head. I understand if it's a topic you'd rather avoid,” he explains looking at me sympathetically.

“Why are you being so nice?” I ask.

“I could ask you the same question. If you're not careful, someone might think you have a heart” he states.

“It was about my past and how I became the God of Death. I lost everything that day, my family, friends, our hope for the future.” I say coldly “Our home was invaded, my people were taken hostage. We were enslaved, imprisoned.

One day we saw the opportunity to flee and we took it. The boats we climbed aboard were far too small for the numbers we had to evacuate but we made it work. The seas rough but we didn't care. Somehow they found out about the plan and let loose a sea of fiery arrows. Many were lost but it looked like we were going to make it. The seas picked up becoming angry and violent, destroying the boats. Despite being a fishing village, most couldn't swim and drowned. I tried to find my sister amongst the thrashing hands, grabbing and pulling at each other, trying to use the next person as afloat. I battled against them and the waves but I couldn't make it in time. I was the only survivor, being washed up on a foreign shore. The Gods thought it was a great feat and welcomed me into their circle, thinking it would be fitting to take on the role of the God of Death because of my ability to lead others to their last breath.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know,” he mutters, his expression softening.

“It's all in the past.” I say “Why don't you get some rest? I won't be able to go back to sleep”

“Are you sure?” he questions.

“Yeah. Don't worry about it.” I assert.

"Okay," he whispers. He watches me through the flames as his eyes flutter shut and he drifts asleep.