The Beginning of the End
Lady Death’s POV
The balance….
The balance of life and death was the only thing she was sure of. The cycle was a comfort, a warm hearth for her to gaze into as the world continued to spin. She watched the organisms with interest: the ones with roots, the ones that were small with many legs to the ones that flew through the skies, and the ones with antlers to the ones that hunted them with powerful claws and canines– the ones with fins that swam in vasts waters, and her favorite, the strange beings with hearts so big and that always begged her for more time or cried in terror at her appearance. Humans: so complex, so warm, so emotional….so evil. The carnage they brought was her favorite. She was busier than ever and stretching her existence through the planes and only herself going when the casualty called to her. She had spent her time in the forest. The original Green Witch, one with the cycle of birth, growth, and decay.
Her existence was simple…
ordered…
uninvolved…
emotionless…
until it wasn’t.
Lady Death had done the very thing she thought had been impossible, and it shattered her. Millions, billions, trillions… the amount of souls she had guided to the Afterlife and never once she shed a tear for them or felt the foreign painful weight that collapsed on her now. Her knees had buckled as she weaved her green to make the flowers purple as the human– the woman who had turned her world upside down rested in the earth she took care of. She had almost collapsed, but the presence of the stolen soul lingered behind her, so instead, she had let her true form reveal, eyeing the boy.
“You may go,” she summoned her true voice, letting it wrap around him.
Three
days
It had been three excruciating long days and for a being who has lived a millennia, three days should have been nothing, but it was not. Her fingers traced her lips, the ghost of warmth still lingered there when her love had kissed her, finally kissed her out of her own choice. She should have known, should have stopped her, but when she felt the pull and then Agatha pulling away, her brows had creased at the realization. Agatha had siphoned her magic, not only killing her, but also plunging her soul through the veil before she could even ask her why she would be so fucking foolish. The boy was rightful hers to take. He was the abomination that escaped her, his soul should have plunged, and left the mortal plane. Not hers. Oh the things she would do if she wasn’t Death. She wanted, no, craved his beating heart in her hands. She craved to taste his blood, to lick the beating muscle as his life drained from his eyes before her. She needed him to know how it felt to have his heart ripped out…but Death didn’t have a physical heart, not anymore. It had withered and died the moment those lips parted from hers.
The scar was deeper than ever, leaving her staggering. She couldn’t hold onto her human form. Death found herself back at Agatha’s flowers. Her powers had taken her here, whether she wanted to be here or not. She didn’t protest instead she fell to her knees, bony fingers covering the empty sockets that leaked water. Her teeth chattered as her magic wrapped the cloak tighter around her. The world blurred and it was just her and the empty patch of flowers where they shared their last kiss. Lady Death finally realized what it meant to fear her, why humans hated her, and she could no longer blame them. She hated herself too, more than ever before, even with her son. The son she had with her, the son she had to take away. A sob tore through her boney throat as the weight became heavier. She took her head as her body violently quivered. Her fist struck the ground repeatedly, allowing the screaming to shake the earth itself. She screamed until her throat was raw, until all the life around her wilted, except for the flowers for her love. Lady Death had lost everything. First, her ability to separate, to be emotionless, to be the powerful cosmic entity she was meant to be as she fell in love with a mortal. Then, her son. She did not mean to create him. She knew what he would be and what it would do to Agatha, but it had been too late and when those eyes pleaded her and the raw “please, my love” constricted her throat, who was she to say no. Finally, within a span of days, she lost the love of her life, and with her, herself. Death no longer cared for the balance. It didn’t make sense anymore. It didn’t bring comfort. It only made her scar deeper.
Lady Death laid into the bed of flowers, mutterings slipping from her lips, if she was in that form. Her pointed teeth chattered as her bones caressed the last remains of her love, of her heart. The sky above her darkened and swirled with green, the wind ruffling the flowers as she hummed manically the tune her son and wife created together. She clicked her teeth as she did so before growling in her own might. She could feel it, a mortal about to die, beckong that her attention returned to her job, the job that hurt her wife, that took their son— that destroyed her. She laughed rolling over the flowers, allowing her to sink into what little warmth they provided. The pull grew harder, wrapping around her to pull her to her feet, but she fought against it, refusing to allow one of her lesser forms to go collect.
“Can you believe it, my love?” she said softly to the soil. “I barely even get three days off before I am called back to work.”
She could imagine the slight snicker from her, the way she would brush the hair away from her cheek before placing a chaste kiss there that warmed Death’s body, “Go, my love. Just be back by supper.”
Death chuckled more. She would have left in that instant, her job leading her to the soul that needed taken, but this time she remained, staring up into the angry green clouds.
“Down, down, down the road, down the windy road. Down, down, down the road, down the windy road. Circle sewn with fate, unlock thy hidden gate– I stray not from the path, I hold death’s hand in mine.” Tears fell from her bony jaw as the tug grew harder. “Death’s hand in mine,” she repeated.
She looked back to the sky, her eyes searching as the pull began calling her name. It whispered in her ear, calling and begging for her attention, but she still did not move from the flowerbed. She didn’t possess the strength nor the will. The balance tilted, she could feel it as screams echoed from every corner of the mortals’ realm. The one thing she had sworn to protect at all costs, including her lover’s life, tearing now. She laughed again as the pulling stopped and the green clouds made their way through the world, showering the world in black snow. Yet, the snow didn’t touch her as she absent mindedly played with her dagger. She dragged it across her ribs, listening to the sound it made instead of the screaming earth around her.
“Rio?” a small voice snapped her out of it.
She sat up, staring up at the boy before staring back up at the sky. Death came back, releasing her magic and releasing the lesser versions of herself to reel the souls back to the Afterlife. It took a moment longer than she would have liked, but the moment the earth silenced, she stared up at the boy. Anger coursed through her as her soft glowing eyes narrowed to the bouquet of white lilies in his hand. She snarled, grabbing him by the throat. He gasped but didn’t fight her as she slammed into the earth. He coughed from the impact, groaning as he sat up. Lady Death advanced though, her dagger at his throat as she stood behind him.
“It should have been you,” she snarled, the blade shaking in her grip.
Once more, Billy didn’t fight. The teenager could have easily summoned his magic and thrown her to the side, instead he sat there, letting her words sink in. Death snarled more, angered by his defiance. She slammed his head back into the earth, spinning out his reach as she raised her dagger. But she could not land the blow. Death instead, slammed the dagger into the earth next to his head, turning back to a flowery grave, refusing to show him her tears. Billy, groaning as he sat up, fixed his eyes on her. She could smell the blood before the magic hummed, and he healed himself.
He took a breath before he spoke, “Rio, I–”
“ Don’t ” she snarled again “call me that. I am Lady Death to you , child.”
An uncomfortable silence engulfed them. She didn’t care, her gaze back on the purple flowers before her. Her hood moved back into place as she felt like collapsing again. The pain was too much, the human emotions too much on a cosmic entity.
Billy came beside her and kneeled to put the flowers on top of her beautiful display. With a simple growl, Death used her magic to throw them far. She could feel the stare the boy now bored her, trying to read her mind, but that would be impossible. She would truly have to be human for him to do that.
“You’re colder than I remember,” Billy then spoke, surprising her.
She peered at him, “I am Death. There is no warmth in death.”
He simply shook his head, looking back down at the flowers, “No, you used to be warm, especially around Agatha. I can’t read your mind, but if I can see the shift, Ri– Lady Death.”
Death looked away from him now, hiding her tears with her hood but kept the growl, “Don’t you dare say her name.”
She didn’t need to see to feel the anger from the boy. It didn’t matter, hers was greater, her pain, her love, her scar–
“It should have been you,” she spat. “ You are an abomination to this sacred cycle. My love still had decades if not centuries to live. It was not her time. You–”
Billy snapped, “ You were the one that took her. You and your twisted ideation of love. You could have taken anyone else, but I saw your magic the moment she pulled away–”
Death laughed at him, her teeth chattering as the laugh reached the heavens, “Oh dear boy, you were there when I found her again. Did you not listen?”
She watched as he sneered at her, his lip curling, “How you wanted her dead? Yeah, I heard.”
Death grabbed him by the throat again, binding his arms and legs with her magic as she squeezed, “She siphoned my magic. I was going to take you, but you stupid, greedy little humans ruined everything!”
Once more, Billy’s head collided with the earth as she snarled, facing back to her love, her voice barely above a whisper, “You destroyed me.”
Billy stared at her with his mouth hung open. She didn’t care if it was weak. She was weak. Every fiber of her being heaving under the crushing weight. She wanted to hate Agatha for this, but she couldn’t, not after everything Agatha had taught her. Not after Agatha loved her, cared for her, hated her, hurt her, resented her, forgave her, and loved her once more. She wasn’t sure who she was anymore. She wished she never got close, never felt human, never became Rio. Death was torn, broken, and scarred. A sob tore at her again and she crumbled, the cloak falling around her as she put her face into the flowers to muffle it. Oh, if the other entities saw her, they would laugh and jest at her. She was a mockery to everything devine, to everything cosmic. Then, it hit her hard, her bones almost cracking at the realization. Her eyes would have widened along with a smile as she knew the answer to this. It was so simple.
Death suddenly stood, forcing Billy to his feet as she snarled.
“To atone for what you did, you are coming with me.”
Billy’s trembling lip betrayed his strong voice, “You can’t kill me though.”
Death clicked her teeth, “No, I can’t kill you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t die.”
She dropped him as he stepped back, the color draining from his face, “What?”
She cocked her head at him, “We are all given time, a cycle, even cosmic beings except we have the unfair advantage of choosing.”
“No,” Billy shook his head, “Why? Rio, it has only been three days. Grief–”
Death lost her patience, binding his mouth shut again as her white orbs flashed at him. She snarled low, her dagger back in her hand and tracing his face with it, “Exactly, grief. I shouldn’t be experiencing grief. It’s a human emotion. Now, come pet. You are going to help me.”
***
“So, where are you taking me? What was that veil? Are we in the Afterlife?” Billy struck her with questions. She was tempted to sew his mouth shut again, her fingers twitching for it.
Instead, she let out a long sigh as if she needed to breathe. She learned this from Agatha, “I am taking you through Purgatory. We can’t just arrive at the gates of the Afterlife, unfortunately. For this, we have to walk.”
“Another road?”
She hid her laugh, “Yes, but this one is real, not your chaos magic.”
They walked in silence for a long time, Death not minding as they passed through the dim orange haze. The sky was filled with the strange orange fog, and the road was barren of any leaves. There was a dry heat that Death could just feel as the souls who refused to cross wandered. Her feet moved over the black soil with ease as another soul called for her. She released herself, allowing the version to take it before becoming one with her again. To her own surprise, there was a light pep in her step as she felt herself speeding up. It would take them a while to get there. This road wanted her to sink into her thoughts and think about what she was about to do, but she didn’t need to overthink it. She knew what she was doing and would happily accept her own death.
“Feels familiar, doesn’t it?” she mused, her steps now dancing down the path. She cackled, whistling her son’s song as Billy fell behind her.
“Rio,” he made her stop dead in her tracks, she was about to growl but his question stopped her, “Why the name ‘Rio’? It means river, doesn’t it? So why a name so full of life?”
Death’s shoulders fell, “That is a long story.”
Billy crossed his arms, his black curls blowing with the strong wind, “I assume we got time. You didn’t just drag me to Purgatory for a short walk.”
Death peered around, sensing an angry restless spirit approaching. It was strong, his breaths ragged even over the wind, and the stench would sting any mere mortal’s nostrils. She grabbed the boy’s hand, running. He followed her, not questioning her. They fell into a sprint, Rio taking the air into her nose as her feet dug into the soft soil. She could run for miles without tiring. When she and Agatha were younger, well when Agatha was full of that youthful energy, they would run like this through the trees together. They leapt over fallen logs, past branches that scraped their faces and arms, but they never hurt Rio. For her love, when she would be panting, out of breath, and on her back in the meadow, Rio would lean over her. She would stare at the faint red lines on her face and arms, mapping them out before leaning forward. Her tongue would easily trace over them, leaving her love’s skin unblemished. Agatha would sigh in contentment before reaching with gentle fingers, curling them in Rio’s hair and pulling her to her lips. Rio would happily meet them, moving where her body would easily slide over Agatha’s. She would gently pin her into the soft dirt, their tongues spelling out their devotion until her purple witch would pull away, knowing Rio had to return to her job.
Billy’s yell brought her out of the memory. She watched as his steps became unsteady, his body panting hard before hitting a root. She held her laugh as she stopped beside him, waiting for him to get up. He groaned, his face still in the dirt as Death took her surroundings again. They were no closer but the spirit had left them. The boy would need shelter, and food, and probably rest as night was approaching faster than the mortal realm. He was slowing her down, but she didn’t have a choice. She needed a willing mortal and if she played him right, he would be willing to help her, but that meant also revealing a side to her that her wife was only privy to. She would have to be vulnerable.
The Scarlet Witch’s son finally sat up, his hands covered in dirt and blood. His black jeans were even more ripped, a deep mahogany painting them as blood even dripped from his face. His eyeliner was smeared in with the dirt as he stared angrily up at her.
“What was that for?”
“You didn’t sense that spirit? Trust me, you don’t want to face a restless spirit here without your power,” she sneered.
Billy’s eyes widened as his palms reached out, searching for his spark. Death cackled at him, walking off the road and into the woods to find shelter. She didn’t bother to see if he would follow. She knew he would. She found a small clearing, her magic coming out creating a fire for the boy along with blankets to lay down against the logs. Billy slowly made his way, sitting close to the fire as blood still ran from him. Death sat, her bones collecting some of the black dirt on her as well. He stared at her again, his eyes sad but he motioned to his hands.
“A little help, please?”
Death rolled her eyes, “You’re not bleeding out. You’ll heal.”
“And if I get an infection?”
Death clacked her teeth at him, “Well, I am right here.”
“And you won’t get to die.”
Death scowled, looking away again. She knew it wasn’t possible for him to die of a few simple scraps, but she needed him for this. She needed his trust, his willingness, and she wasn’t going to get it without playing a little nice. He had to atone for what he had done to her love. She raised her hands, her green magic washing over his cuts until there was not a single scratch left. Pulling out her dagger, she played with it absent mindedly as Billy sighed.
“You still haven’t answered me.”
Death refused his gaze, but allowed herself to have the skin grow on her bones until she was Rio Vidal again, “This is the me that Agatha fell in love with. I didn’t want to scare her when I first met her, but like I could have scared her. She helped me find a name for myself. Agatha Harkness-Vidal, made me Rio Vidal.”
Why Rio is protective of her name