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𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 : 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

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I didn't come out of the bedroom the rest of the weekend. My mind was still reeling from our discovery of Marshall Hollins and the realization that everything was true. I was the last necromancer, the last living person with the sight.

It didn't make sense to me because the last necromancer had to be one to raise the dead and I had failed. Granted it was my first attempt but I still failed nonetheless. How many tries would it take for it to work? Would it work at all?

I kept myself curled up underneath the covers, unable to move and think of anything but the boy. His father had given Crow a photograph of him, his school picture and I wanted to throw up. I wanted to tear it into pieces and toss it into a fire or bury it underneath the rose bushes. I never wanted to see it again, yet, I kept it resting flat against my nightstand.

He wasn't exactly how I pictured. He had dark hair, curly around his face. He had beautiful big, dark eyes, and a long nose. He had freckles across his cheeks and nose and a mole against his chin. His smile was big and genuine, he was truly happy to be there when the flash went off. He was handsome and looked sweet and I hated it.

I hated the life I was given. I hated that people had to die for me. I wasn't worth all this, I wasn't worth a dime compared to the lives lost and there were hundreds, probably thousands, before Marshall and before Dahlia. Before my mom. Before Pandora.

Who else had to die? Who else had to suffer because of a fate bestowed upon me by force? I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for any of this. And I feared for much worse it would all get if it continued to progress like this.

I didn't see my first ghost until they had all died but what about my mother? What about mom? Did she die for the same reasons or did someone sneak into her room and force her onto the chair? To put that rope around her neck?

Or did she do it because she was scared? Did she fear she had the same genes as I did, only dormant? She had the gift of subtle magic, she must've thought she had some sort of inkling for the gray but it was so small, it didn't quite matter.

Nothing did seem to matter outside of the ghosts.

Sunday evening, Crow had had enough and knocked on my door. I answered by rolling over to face the other wall because there was no point in getting up until tomorrow. School was more important, wasn't it? Hadn't every professor and educator recited how important school was compared to mostly everything? Therefore, I would get up from my bed and act as if the depression still didn't linger and I wasn't being pushed down by the force of something terrible and evil.

I heard Crow's feet against the floor, soft like he was barefoot. When he spoke, his voice was even softer than his step. "Blaire, you need to eat something."

I didn't respond, my eyelids were still heavy and my throat felt raw like someone had forced me to swallow a blade. Someone had forced me to lay witness to the deaths that had come before me. It was all too much. I didn't want this responsibility, I was still a kid, I was still a kid–

You've been an adult since the day you were born into this legacy. You are older than you realize, the ghosts have made you this way.

"Blaire, please."

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled, pulling the blanket higher up to cover my cold neck. All I did was shiver and sniffle, what had I become?

The bed dipped behind me and I felt the sudden urge to turn around and push him, to smack him, to watch someone other than myself bleed again and again. Wasn't that what I was always doing, anyway? Watching someone else bleed, watching someone else leave all just the same.

Death took them all by the hands while she took me by the throat.

"Let me make you dinner," he whispered and I almost got up, just by the way he spoke to me. It was like I was hypnotized by him, intoxicated on the idea that maybe he'd love me enough to take me away from all this pain. That he'd be the one I always wanted, someone to take care of me, to protect me, to love me until the very end.

He vowed too, but was it even the same without love?

The lovers will haunt you. You will never have closure from the cards.

"No," I said back, shaking my head into my pillow. "Another...another night, maybe?"

"You haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning," he pleaded and he touched me, so gently, I wanted to sob but all I ever did was sob. Ever since Pandora died, it's been like my body hasn't known how to shut off the waterworks.

You're still grieving, my dear. You're still mourning the loss of someone important.

His hand was on my shoulder and I almost opened my mouth to ask him to lay with me. I wanted that comfort, the constant knowledge of knowing I wasn't doing all of this alone. I knew that I wasn't, I knew that, but it was nice to be reminded.

It seemed he didn't need to be asked. The bed dipped again and I felt him lie down behind me. He wasn't curled around me like I might've wished and dreamed for but he was laying on his back. His side was against my back and I let out a loose sigh, my chest tightening with the urge to cry and cry and cry until there was a river pulling out of me.

I don't know how long he laid there for because the hours passed like minutes as I stared off into the darkness until I couldn't any longer. The bed was cold behind me when I sat up, my head feeling heavy. I wanted to get out of this cabin, I wanted to be somewhere familiar.

I wanted to be with my ghost.

Getting out of bed, I slipped into my boots, not bothering to change out of my pajama shorts and oversized shirt. It wouldn't matter what I was wearing anyway when I got into my own bed or laid on my own couch. As much as I loved Crow's cabin, I needed to see my own house, to breathe in her familiar scents. Was it so wrong that I wanted the comfort of my childhood to wash away all that is wrong?

So, that's why I was creeping through the cabin at one in the morning and sneaking out the front door with my bag and keys in my hand, feeling as if I were a burglar, just some little thief darting away into the night. My car rumbled to life like the loud purr of a lion and I drove off without another thought.

The drive was seamless, besides the fact that my seat was stained and scratchy with blood. I had forgotten to even try and attempt to clean it after the incident. Too much had happened in such a short time, it was all jumbled and missing and fragmented inside my head. I just needed to sleep, yeah, that was it.

I just need to sleep for a long, long time.

My key fit inside the lock on my front door, bumpy and yet, smooth as it slipped inside and found its home within. Inside was dark and cold, it seemed that Crow had made a call to Macabre about shutting off the electricity. It was the smart thing to do for the time being, I didn't need the house burning away at my inheritance if I wasn't even going to be staying here. But, nonetheless, I wished it had been warm and I could've turned the lights on at least.

I missed when my home was just my home. I missed when it didn't feel like an empty shell, a grave.

But wasn't everything like a grave? Like something hollow and emptied out? The sides scraped of everything good and normal?

I didn't bother going through the kitchen for anything even tangible to eat, there would be nothing there. Instead, I trudged up the stairs and towards my bedroom but I didn't go there. I stopped outside my mother's room, the door closed and I stared at it for a moment, as if willing it to open before taking the step forward and opening the door.

Inside was colder than the rest of the house, that and my room were always the chilliest. I dropped my bag by the side of the bed and slipped out of my shoes and jacket. Crow had been kind enough to wash the blood out of the inside of the jacket, cleaning the leather and bringing it back to its original shade instead of the muddied brown my blood made it seem to be.

With my things in a puddle by my feet, I pulled open the thick covers and slipped inside for the first time in years. My head hitting the pillow, I stared up at the dark ceiling and felt the emotion rise up inside me again like a roaring tide trying to drag me back out to sea with all the other angry beasts under the rough surface.

I let myself cry until Beatrice came and soothed me to sleep. Her presence was a welcoming, tender freeze against my skin. I let that feeling seeping deep within me, drowning out the angry, wailing I had cooped up inside my chest.

I slept until a noise startled me. I slept until someone broke in, the front door I had forgotten to lock opening and shutting and the sound of human feet hitting the tile floor below. Both my eyes opened and I wondered if I could just lay here and let them find me but that wasn't acceptable.

I had a job to do, like always. I would never be free of this burden, I thought to myself as I pulled back the warm blankets and stepped down onto the carpet. I will never be free, I thought again as I reached for my bag, slipping my hand inside and bringing out my knife.

No, I don't think I will ever be free from this. Not even after I die.

very much a lil filler for y'all!!! next chap we'll be revisiting a character from just a few chaps ago hehe andddddd we're nearing the end of act ii but im not exactly sure how many more chapters but i'd guess maybe 5 at the most!!!!

vote/comment and maybe ill bring ace back....or john.....or someone else ;)