TW: gore, death
I clung to Liana's garments, trying to draw her towards me. But she always managed to get free. She always managed to leave me. And that day was no exception. She tore through the hallways as a gust of wind tiptoed along her trail, her hands heavy with her precious little thing wrapped tenderly for the grave.
"Don't do this, please." That's all I could say before she flung the iron doors open with the sparks of magic lingering in her eyes, ready to do her sinful bidding.
"It has to be done."
"No, it doesn't! Please, Liana, ignore anything else I say to you for the rest of our lives….but not this. Don't ignore me now."
"I already know what you're going to say. And I won't hear it." Flames flickered into existence at her whim as each wick sizzled with wisteria fire and she turned to me "I'm bringing him back. I'm bringing our son back."
"He's already dead, Liana! He's go-"
"He doesn't have to be!" She yelled, her voice cracked like a stony mountain beaten by a storm. She had begun to crumble. She placed her corpse onto the altar and her fingers slid into his sheets.
"Liana. I don't want to see this. I don't want to see it again."
"It?" Her hair flung violently against her face as she spat at me, "He's our son!"
Cold hands squeezed at my intestines as she said this and I shivered. "That's not our son."
No. Our son smiled when we carried him through these halls. He'd wriggle in our hands anxious to get free and explore our ancient tombs. He'd sit on top of that very same altar, his feet rocking against its stone as we told him of all the things witches get up to.
He wouldn't lie there still like that. If that were our son, his fingers would break through the fabric as he clung to Liana's gown and said, "Why am I wrapped up like this? What's going on?" His big, brown eyes, bright and curious as she runs her fingers through his hair.
That wasn't my son.
And as she pulled open the sheets she only confirmed this. The sallow skin. The hollow cheeks. The mouth hanging open like the muscles in his face were worn. I turned my head. "I miss him, Liana. I really do. You don't think-"
"Then help me! Help me save him! I...I can't do this without you. What use is having these powers if we can't bring him back."
"There is no him to bring back! I felt him, Liana...I felt his spirit leave his body…... He's gone." The words sunk heavily like a stone and I felt their weight. She probably felt it too. But it had to be acknowledged. "He's gone, Liana."
"No." She closed her eyes and I heard a whisper rise from the floor. The tiles rattled like a bag of seeing bones and I heard her gravelly hum escape from the back of her throat.
"Liana."
The hum persisted scraping against the walls, pulling the essences of their runes and leaving them glowing dimly as Limbo opened itself like a wound and poured its warm blood into the room and with it fell the translucent bodies of dead children and the stillborn bleeding into our reality.
"Liana, no! You don't know what forces you're inviting into this room!"
But she kept going. Her arms parted at her side as her eyes sunk behind her skull and she chanted the hymn of Nigredo. The Dark Awakening. I felt a flock of spirits rise from around us. Bony things with brittle flesh that crumbled at the slightest touch as their bodies mingled into mine. The carcasses crooned silent prayers for flesh as their damp hands ran through my skin, pungent with decay.
But they saw that my body was full. Most people have this misconception that the dead can recognise their own bodies but this is hardly the case. All they desire is an open, fleshy tomb that they can store themselves in.
Anything….or anyone will do.
And seeing the corpse lying dormant their eyes swelled with elation and they drifted towards it sending a shiver of panic down my spine. I watched horrified as every soul in the room scrambled towards the poor corpse clumping together like inky blots and crushing their bones as they clambered through the walls of its teeth, grinding their skulls as they pushed their way through the small passages of its nostrils and squeezed themselves into its ears. But Liana stood unmoved, diligently humming the spell as the body spasmed with every new entry. Head twisting wildly as it banged against the altar, arms flailing out of their sockets trying to get free from the rest of the body, chest rising and falling manically like he was drowning in his body...it...it was drowning in its own body. She’s hurting it!
"Spirits are entering the body. You need to cleanse it!"
"I know that!"
"Then do it now! This isn't one of your stray dogs! Human beings are-"
“Shut up! I don’t wanna make a mistake cos you keep yelling at me! I-I’m almost there. ”
This entire thing was a mistake. I would have told her that but she was right. The magic she was working with was incredibly sensitive. But rationality was slowly escaping me as I watched the body convulse more violently than before.
And then it spoke.
The mouth gurgled words that curled around my neck like a thorny noose and strangled the sanity out of me. I still remember the feeling of dim hope that leapt out of the black grief as those words left it’s mouth.
“Gaz...zellle….Mommy….you’re hurting me….it...hurts…..mommy!”
Every cell in my body vibrated letting out a high-pitched scream, I heard my heart shriek in my ear like a boiling kettle as I stared at that thing on the table. It said my name. He said my name. And she was killing him!
"Stop it! Stop it! You're hurting him!" The words were irrational. But as I saw the black sludge bubble from his mouth and nostrils and the primordial ink of death drip down the sides of his face all I could feel was pain.
“Foul things of the Nether, leave this boy at once!” She cried, flinging her hands into the air as the wind stilled and the chorusing souls fell out of existence. And for a brief second his cheeks grew plump and red, his ribs sank back into him flooded by healthy skin, his jagged edges grew round and soft and his eyes were bright with life as he stared at us both,
“Matthew...” we said in sync, reaching out towards him and for that one beautiful second all was as it should have been.
But the jealous hands of limb sunk their dusty nails in his body exhuming whatever little life lingered in that flesh and we watched, mortified, as his tiny body began to crinkle like discarded paper, his skin further decayed turning almost as grey as the stone he lay on, his ribs grew more defined as though threatening to leak from his skin and he let out a final cold sigh.
“No.” she said as she flung herself upon his corpse holding it towards her chest. I stared at her and her rotting thing. Too tired to feel anything anymore. "Gazelle...I'm sorry." Every word trembled as it fell out of her mouth and rotted in the air.
She made me watch him die a second time and I'll never forgive her for that. But even so, I watched, my nails digging into my abdomen pregnant with repulsion.
"I hate you." I don't think I've ever said anything as sincere as that before. The venomous words were just as thick, black, and viscous as the bile crawling down the corpse's face.
"I know." And as I heard the cracks in her voice I felt a sick satisfaction swell in me. I wanted those words to break her. I wanted them to hum at the back of her mind for the rest of her life. She knew she could never be forgiven. And I don’t think she ever intended on gaining my forgiveness as she turned to me, eyes heavy and red with grief, and said, “But I can’t let him go, Gazelle. We were so close. So close.” She pulled herself off the ground and I stared in horror as I watched her eyes roll back and her throat rattled with the ancient curse.
And as I watched her force-fed life into the corpse, knees buried into the ground like some ancient statue, eyes stony with hardened tears only one thought stood.
Both me and Matthew were trapped in Limbo and there was no escape for either of us.
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