Thanks to Him
Luz had died, that was a fact she knew deep down. It wasn’t something she could prove with empirical evidence, nor could she actually stomach saying it out loud, but it had happened. Her best guess was it happened when Philip vacated her body, a last little parting gift from the delusional asswipe as he fucked off to who-knows-where.
Back in the graveyard, Luz wasn’t given the time to grapple with it. She was more focused on the other factors at play… the loss of him overtaking every mode of rational thought.
She felt it now, as she stepped through the portal. While crossing the boundary that divided the two realities she calls home. Luz’s skin burned, every inch of her body felt like it was on fire, like the skin of a newborn baby touching the air for the very first time and feeling just how cold it is. Luckily she managed not to scream or cry throughout the transit, she was all out of that.
It still stung when she hit the ground of the Boiling Isles. She winced as the sensation of the soil touching her skin sent feelings that can only be described as electric across her. Luz quietly hissed and hoped that nobody noticed, drawing herself to her feet. She tried to ignore the bated breath and odd looks everyone was flashing in her direction.
“Luz, are you okay?” Amity asked, making herself known at Luz’s side. “You didn’t immediately come out and we were all worried you got stuck behind.”
Luz racked her brain, a feeling that could only be described as wrong flooding her as she thought about the world between worlds.
Maybe she saw something, some omniversal traveler or unlucky soul who wandered into some Titan’s Blood. Maybe she’s crazy, who’s to say.
“I thought I saw someone.” She tried to muster, noting how her throat felt like someone had dragged a knife down the inside of it. “But it was probably just in my head.”
Getting to her feet, Luz shook off the pain screeching through every fiber of her being and walked forward. “Any sign of Philip?” She felt herself darken at the mention, the way her fists curled into fists instinctively. She really hoped he was nearby, because when she found him, Luz swore she was going to send him to-
“No,” Gus’ answer to her question cut off that train of thought. “If he did pop out here, he’s had enough time to get the heck out of dodge.”
“Great,” Luz grumbled, scowl in full effect.
“Well he better stay out of our way, because this mama is hungry for vengeance!” She heard her mother assert.
Following the voice, Luz made eye contact with her mother. Well, at least, tried to. There was something about the way her mother avoided her gaze and tightened her grip on the red baseball bat that left an unsettling feeling in her stomach.
“That is a fight I’d watch.” Gus quipped back.
It was nice to see how her friends still were able to be light and find the humor in the present. Luz really didn’t know how they did it.
_
She kept herself scarce along the way as the group set out, not wanting to bring down the mood any further than it already was. It was interesting to watch her friends, almost as if watching them for the very first time.
The way that Willow happily played with the red grass of the demon realm, how Gus used an illusion to puppet the grass into little dolls to play around with Willow. It was nice to see them back in their element. She smiled warmly.
“Luz…” a voice said from over her shoulder, causing her to jump in confusion. Turning around she saw… Hunter. What the hell?
It was like Hunter was there, but not there. A faded image floating just to her left. Looking at the image, Luz felt her right hand begin to tremble, memories of the hand morphed into the very claws that struck the fatal blow through his chest surfacing.
Then Flapjack landed on her shoulder and nudged at her, causing Luz to blink. As she did so the image flickered away, and suddenly she remembered where she was.
“We don’t have time for grass or illusions!” She found herself yelling, gripping her head as she tried to shake the empty feeling the image instilled in her away. When she let go some loose strands of hair fell forward, they were shiny and golden. No time to think about that now. “Philip had a head start, we should keep moving.”
With that Luz stomped forward, trying her best to ignore what was going on behind her. Ignoring kept her from thinking, which stopped the pain. Pain could come later, now wasn’t the time for that.
Luz’s mother was saying something, she was almost certain of it. No doubt trying to find something positive about the Isles to get her to change her mind about giving it up. She quietly clicked her tongue, trying to avoid the ashen taste in her mouth and the buzzing that overtook her brain.
Her mom yelped. What caused that?
She blinked and refocused on reality, making eye contact with what remained of the Titan’s skull.
“The Titan’s skull is normal,” Amity thankfully filled in for Luz’s mom. “Everything else is… wrong.”
Luz then noticed the warped landscape inhabited by creatures that could have made her best nightmares a reality. Prancing shooting stars, landscapes with faces, floating castles positioned in such a way that it looked like a tiara on the Titan’s skull. All of these were things she knew she was supposed to be interested in, things she was supposed to like and hate because of what they’d done to the Boiling Isles. Yet, as Luz looked out over the horizon she felt a grand total of nothing.
That’s what broke her heart most of all, the fact that she didn’t feel anything but blanket apathy. Everything was wrong.
“What is that?” Willow asked.
“I don’t know,” Luz found herself answering on autopilot, out of sheer habit. “Maybe we can get some answers at Bonesborough.”
The answer was enough for the other teenagers, as they set out down the hill. Her mother was talking again, the words were lost by the wayside.
Luz watched the three witches. Amity, Gus, and Willow. The original hexsquad. The best friends and girlfriend of Luz the Human Witch. She could feel her heart crack for some unknown reason as she watched them.
She loved them, especially Amity in the touchy-feely kind of way. However, as they made their endeavor through the twisted landscape wrought by the desolation of the Collector, Luz felt like those feelings weren’t correctly in place.
If she had a guess, Luz was mourning the loss of her own life. If she thought about it rationally it made sense. Deep down she knows that she’s supposed to love them, it’s what they expect her to do. However the whole being resurrected thing brought up too many questions about how she’d be affected. Is she the same person? Does she still hold the same exact feelings for them? What if she doesn’t? For some reason the thought of revealing her current state to them was unbearable, as a shimmering lock of golden hair fell into her face.
Almost as if the hair had sparked something, there was suddenly the image of Hunter standing before her. He looked exhausted, red eyes downcast and faded. He was still wearing that stupid wolf shirt he’d stitched. It was like he was actually there… but he wasn’t. Then he was gone, without so much as a word or a movement.
Turning to her mother, Luz felt a wetness rolling down the side of her face.
“Luz?” Her mom cut in, “Honey, you’re crying.”
“I am?” She asked, genuinely surprised by this development. Slowly she reached up and ran a hand under her eyes, catching what were indeed tears. She hummed in contemplation. “Odd, why am I doing that?”
Her mother’s gaze softened knowingly. “Luz, I want to talk about what you were going to say back there. Before we went through the portal you…”
Luz shot her mom a glare instinctually, feeling bad internally as she watched the words on her tongue wither and die.
“Forget it,” Luz sighed “Let’s get the shelter before broaching the subject.”
With that she walked down the hill, leaving her mother to catch up.
_
Philip was examining a butterfly. Now, under most circumstances that wouldn’t be anything to report on, he was actually quite the expert when it came to type of butterflies in the Isles back in his prime. What was so special about this one was that it was utterly fake.
He squinted and admired the details, the craftsmanship on this imitation butterfly. “The Collector really has done a wonderful job retooling this place in my absence. Very Hundred Acre Woods.” He chortled before crushing the butterfly under his boot, noting that it crumpled like plastic when he did so.
This new body of his was spectacular, who knew all he needed to do to fix his organic receptor was to harvest human DNA? If he’d known this beforehand he would have fixed himself up ages ago. Here he stood, hair brown once again, his beard restored, his voice as chipper and young as the day he met Luz, and even his nose restored to peak condition. It was a gift that he would never regret taking for himself.
Still, although his body problems were solved, his new place in the Collector’s playpen was concerning. Philip needed supplies, and the only place he could think of that wasn’t likely ransacked was his old grimwalker lab.
Leaving the crumpled imitation of a butterfly in the dust, Philip trudged on. Coming to a clearing, Philip found himself blocked by a peculiar sight. The faded image of Luz Noceda looking up at him.
“What do you want?” He sneered, eyeing the mute facsimile with suspicion. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
The projection cocked her head to the side, neutral expression never shifting.
He wasn’t going to get anything out of this. Philip continued past her, grimace held. “I did to you what was necessary to finish my work, I’ll never be sorry for that.”