Mine
The Road
Death cradled her face in her hands, hiding the tears that poured. She hated herself for crying in front of the mortal, but what else was she to do. The only hope she had was ending this miserable existence, and then what…Rio hadn’t thought that far. She didn’t know what lay in the Afterlife. All she knew was that she took the souls to Purgatory and straight to the end where it was there they chose to continue or not. She never ventured through, something always telling her not to. Yet, she didn’t want to turn back around. It was her turn to face the unknown and if Agatha had done it so willingly, so could she. She could only imagine, like all the other mortals, but there had to be some type of peace. Hell didn’t exist and neither did reincarnation. Death was supposed to be peace. She would find a resting place and sleep, something she had never done before.
She wiped her tears, holding onto that last shred of hope. Maybe she would forget everything, forget Agatha, forget her son, forget her heart…her scar. Something twisted painfully within her, making her gasp. She looked down, finding her human’s form’s skin turning black. It was only at her fingertips, like she held the Darkhold. She stared at the blackness, flipping her hands over as the fire casted its light. Some of the layers began slowly peeling, revealing a rot settling underneath. Death went to move to her natural form, but found she could not. She laughed, her cackle the infamous one that stretched through Hollywood. It woke Billy with a start at the manic Green Witch. She couldn’t stop it, throwing her head back up to the heavens.
“Rio, your hands!” he gasped, standing up to approach.
She snarled at him, knowing Agatha would have had a quick come back, silencing the boy. She turned back to her hand, picking at the one that held a small ring. She only started wearing it again after her love’s death. She watched as the skin fell away, an ooze tripping to the forest floor to reveal the white of bone.
Her smile was disturbing, her eyes wide as she looked to the boy, “We are getting closer.”
Billy shook his head, refusing to tear his gaze away from her fingers, “What is happening to you?”
She laughed again before sighing, “I am dying, decaying actually. I will be a skeleton once more when we reach the veil.”
Billy’s eyes saddened, “And you’re not scared?”
She shook her head, “You can’t be scared of your own personification.”
Billy sat down again, swirling a stick in the fire bored as her hand slowly rotted away. She needed to move quicker, but the pain with each memory seemed to constantly take her breath away. She supposed it would be worth it in the end, it had to be. Humans couldn’t have been created to live such disappointing lives not to have some semblance of peace, right?
Her eyes narrowed back to the boy, she could laugh again. Here, she was, walking down a road that only exists to her, with another woman’s son. Oh Agatha would cut her throat for this…if she were here. Silent tears now ran with the thought of her again. She just knew this woman would kill her in the end.
Teen cleared his throat, “You have a ring on your left ring finger?”
She turned to look at him, surprised he could see it as she had hidden it, but her magic was fading, forming a new personification of Death probably near the other cosmics. She wondered if they knew what she was doing, if they would try to stop her. She didn’t have the strength to fight them, not with her strength going into the new “Death.”
Rio only shook her head, refusing to look at him.
“You two were married?” she didn’t miss the tone of shock laced through his voice.
“For three hundred and thirty years,” she didn’t miss a beat. “1696.”
Billy turned his head, “That doesn’t make sense– you’re saying you were married all this time?”
She nodded, laughing slightly, “What we did, there wasn’t a way to undo it. It wasn’t paper and pen like your mortals do. The only divorce option was dying and well, here we are. I guess she divorced me.”
She continued her soft laugh, but it made her body hurt more.
Billy sat forward, nodding at her to reveal the memory. She closed her eyes, imagining the best day of her life, and the start of her scar.
***
1696 ~ Somewhere in The Appalachian Mountains
Rio leaned against the tree, a smirk on her lips, well, she was only half in her human form. From the nose down and to her collar, her bones blended well in her black coat. Her dress was a thin silk barely holding around her hips and wrapping around her breasts, her ribs on display. She twirled her dagger watching the beauty before her. A witch stood in the center, women surrounding her as she taunted them. She laughed, the sweet harmony ringing through the forest.
“WITCH KILLER!” they taunted in reply.
Rio felt the attraction simmer as her witch only sighed, “Looks like you caught me. What are you going to do about it?”
The witches raised their hands, all but one who stood behind Agatha, a worried look on her face as her sisters gathered their power and blasted the purple witch. Agatha, her beautiful force of nature and power, drained them. The bodies dropped one by one, except for the girl who bolted for the trees. Rio breathed in, commanding the roots and easily snaring the girl. She wasn’t killing the girl. She was going to die anyway by Agatha’s hand, but Rio was impatient for her love. Over the past three years, she has come and gone, and somehow Agatha had stayed faithful. She expected her to go out and find other pleasures, but Rio never sensed it, especially the one particular moment after months of being gone, Agatha pounced on her. Usually, they would only pass by during Agatha’s killings. Most of the time, it was just her shadow who would leave her a flower and place a simple kiss to her lips, whispering, Te veo, mi corazón.
She had only been a week this time, and somehow, she was able to get away. She stepped forward as Agatha’s hands crackled with more power, more perfection, and beauty. She snapped her head up, her crazed smile softening at the sight of her. She flicked her hair back in a dramatic flair.
“Why, my beautiful dear,” she purred, taking Rio in. “What brings you this far into the woods? Don’t you know there’s a witch killer in these parts?”
Rio let her teeth clack with laughter as they slowly closed the distance. She knew Agatha didn’t need a reply as arms were quick around her neck, a kiss placed on Death’s boney cheek. Her eyes lit up, the whites shining brighter as Death produced a flower and tucked it behind her ear. Agatha’s cheeks rosyed as she brought the escapee forward.
“My love, you are home?” Agatha asked pleadingly.
Rio nodded, before turning her attention to the girl tangled in her vines, in Death’s voice, she stated, “You missed one.”
Her voice echoed over the open field, causing the girl’s eyes to grow wide, “Lady Death?”
Death laughed with Agatha, bringing her closer.
“No please, please, this isn’t fair– I’m only seventeen, this can’t be it,” she sobbed, squirming in Death’s vines.
“If I had a shilling–” Rio started to laugh before she was cut off with a scream.
Agatha had stepped forward, her hands on the witch and draining her power. Purple sparked around them, seeping into Agatha. Her witch breathed out as the corpse dropped, Rio’s shadows taking her.
She internally flinched as the girl’s spirit swore at her, Of course a fucking monster would only care for Lady Death.
She pushed past it, Agatha was not a monster. She was beautiful, powerful, and hers. She had given Death the gift of life, formed her heart– a shriek forced both of them to pull their powers together. Death stepped back against Agatha, her dagger held out as Agatha matched her. They stayed pressed together as they turned in a circle, searching the trees.
“The Seven,” Agatha gasped, both of them catching the raven that flew back in the direction of the screech.
“Hexenbesen, my love?” Rio brought her full human forward again.
Agatha smiled as they ran to the trees, the Green Witch’s magic pulling the roots free from the earth. Both of them yanked one free, Rio lacing the broom in rio dipladenias as Agatha covered hers in moss and vines. With ease the latin came forward, circling each other before swapping the brooms. Brushing her hand against Agatha’s, she watched as she tried hiding her blush. Swinging on the brooms, they lifted off, Rio laughing as the Seven circled below them. It was so easy to evade them, the skies calling for them. They made it to the clouds, Agatha leading them as the wind blew her hair back. She couldn’t stop staring at her, their way her body relaxed, breathing in the air around them. Agatha was a natural in the air. She was free. She was alive. Rio almost lost her balance, her focus wavering until steadying it again, coming next to her.
Oh, how I missed this, she thought, her arms letting go and raising up through the mist. With ease she parted it for them, creating a tunnel for them that led straight home. She laughed, swooping around Agatha, who hung on in a steady grip. Rio didn't care if she fell. The impact would only tickle and take a moment for her to reassemble her bones. She was quicker than the witch, landing before their cottage with ease before her love joined her. They set the brooms aside as Rio turned to Agatha, but gasped when the witch had her arms around her, her hand pulling her head into her neck. Her body relaxed, melting into the witch’s warm and strong embrace. Her racing heart eased as the world fell silent around them. She breathed in, taking in the sweet scent of herbs and spices. Agatha was the essence of fall, a perfect blend of Death’s favorite season– where both life and death meet in a steady flow and neither one nor the other takes priority over the other.
Rio could stay in her embrace for eternity, but the longer Agatha held her, worry bubbled and boiled over. She tried sensing her mood through their connection, but was only met with contentment and longing.
“My love?” she questioned softly.
Agatha only hummed before pulling away cupping her face with both hands. Rio leaned into the touch as she brushed her hair away from her face, “I just missed you.”
Rio smiled, chuckling, “I was only gone for a week, sweetheart.”
“Yes, after being gone for months. I worry about you.”
She chuckled again, “I have been doing this as long as I existed, you should not worry for me, but you, on the other hand, how many times have the Salem Seven almost caught you?”
Agatha’s hands fell down to her waist, huffing at her, “I escape every time, my love.”
“Tell that to the wound on your back,” Rio replied, practically smelling it on her now.
Blue eyes rolled at her, before pulling away. She followed her into the cottage as the sun gradually met its highest peak. Stepping inside, she smiled. Over the years, their cottage changed to fit them. Agatha rearranged her books, sorting them between the fiction, history, and magic. She eventually added to Rio’s collection, her knowledge and thirst for power evident in their home. Stew simmered in a cauldron over a fire and before the fire laid a bunny that quickly became Agatha’s familiar, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Rio had gifted him to her, knowing secretly how much her purple witch adored the fluffy creatures. She hadn’t named him, but Rio called him Senor Scratchy for how he melted in them when he was scratched. Next to him sat Agatha’s rocking chair in which a blanket laid half-made. She turned her gaze to her once study, finding it became the kitchen and her study was now held up by the magic her love possessed. Her heart fluttered, a secret part of her loving how the witch laced her life with her own. She never complained about the spiders, except when her tarantula was on her, nor the vines that wrapped the house or even the poison ivy that made its home here.
Agatha took off her cloak as Rio followed, but quickly grabbed the witch by her waist, “Oh no, you don’t.”
Agatha’s magic pricked at her as she tried pulling away, “It’s fine–Rio, honey–”
Rio was faster and stronger. With ease her magic untied Agatha dress, the purple revealing the white slip underneath. She untied that too to find long claw marks running across her back. They were deep, but Agatha had stopped the blood. Rio growled at the sight of them, something flashing to the second time they met after Evanora had slashed her back. The witch in her arms grew smaller, giving in to Rio’s protectiveness.
Her growl grew louder, “Oh, if I wasn’t Death!”
“Honey, it’s fine–”
“It’s not fine, what if they had used poison? What if it was deeper? What if they casted a spell so you couldn’t use your magic?”
Agatha froze, her voice dropping, “They used poison.”
“Agatha!” Rio scolded. “You are not invincible. Stop acting like you are.”
Her love didn’t reply as her worry began boiling over again. Her witch was stubborn just as much as she was cunning. Yet for some reason, Agatha never got it through her head that Lady Death did not control death. She wouldn’t be able to heal her, to stop time–no one in history ever deserved or received special treatment like that. It went against the balance, the balance her Lady Death persona fought valiantly for and Rio knew she couldn’t win against Lady Death.
She bent down, her tongue moving up the claw marks with ease. She tasted the honey Agatha used to help clean the wounds and stop infection. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily, not able to bear the thought of the pull for her soul. She licked the last one, tying up her gown and making the witch face her. Agatha only smiled at her, a devious little one that still made her cave. She closed the distance, meeting velvet lips and the spark that ran through them. The witch’s hands came up again, holding her cheeks as the kiss deepened. Agatha’s tongue pushed against her, a battle commencing as they tasted each other. A fire erupted in Rio as she pulled the witch closer against her. Oh, she really missed this, the ease that came with Agatha, and no matter how many times they kissed, she was always left craving more.
Agatha pulled away after a moment, placing her forehead against her before meeting her eye, “The stew should be ready if you want to make us tea.”
Rio smiled, feeling how light she had become with the witch. She didn’t need to eat nor drink, but she would never turn down Agatha’s cooking. She smirked, baring her teeth as she were to bite her before placing a kiss on her nose. A gentle wave of laughter rolled from the witch as she kissed her cheek before pulling away to attend to the cauldron.
Her witch sighed, “For you, my love, I will try to be more careful.”
“Agatha,” Rio’s voice turned deep, a slight echo bouncing around the cottage.
She couldn’t stop herself, but she knew it needed to be said, and so did Lady Death. Lady Death took Rio’s hand, her cold skeleton hands wrapping around tightly for control as her bones stabbed and clawed at her skin with her dagger. She didn’t want Lady Death to be the one to say it. She would scare her love, she would make her turn away from Rio and leave Rio only as Lady Death. Rio would cease to exist.
“You know I can not control death. I am just Lady Death. I guide the souls, make sure they are not lost on this plane. I can not prevent nor cause death. Yet, you have given me something I will never forget ever, but as you have done that, you must remember: I have to keep the balance.”
Rio watched her face. She didn’t see fear, only worry as she nodded her head, eyes widening. Rio pushed her human self forward once more, “That is why I need you to be careful. You can’t cheat death.”
Agatha being her lovely witch only smirked, “Like I would ever cheat on you, honey.”
Death rolled her eyes, letting the comfortable silence slink back in. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in their routine. They ate together in silence, Rio waving her magic through the plants before playing with the bunny. Agatha’s nose was buried in a spell book muttering the incantations. Soon Rio was beside her, guiding her hands in the right movements, easing her through the latin, and gathering the herbs her witch needed to practice the spell. Rio had kissed her when she completed it with ease, nodding to her witch to continue their studies. The evening slowly sank in, Rio attending to the plants as Agatha finished cooking the deer she had caught and once more, making sure Rio had enough to eat. She never questioned why Agatha did so, even though the meat alone could give her enough for winter. She supposed eating together was a human thing Agatha enjoyed. She let her have it, sitting together as Agatha explained recounted her tales from the past week Rio missed. Her shadows had seen the aftermath, always giving Agatha a flower for each witch she took. Work and play. It was perfect for them. Rio was always eager to know her witch’s next move and she adored the gift of corpses.
Death laid out in the field, staring up at the stars and moon. Tomorrow night was a full moon, and even better, a Blood Moon. Every witch will be out, offerings and rituals coursing through the night. Agatha will be able to tap deeper into her powers and if they so wished, they could go and hunt for more power too. From what she knew, Agatha never attended a sabbath, thanks to her mother’s cruelty. She would love for her to observe one before taking their powers and Rio their bodies.
She felt eyes on her from the house and for a moment, she almost ignored them. She loved the night, the warmth the shadows gave her, but her heart latched the gaze inside. She breathed in and once she let her breath, the smell of herbs and spice swirled around her. Rio reached out, bringing the woman in front of the window against her. Agatha leaned back into her as she carefully moved her hair away from her neck. It was slowly exposed for her, long and pulsing. She could practically taste the blood that warmed the human’s body. Her nose grazed along it, taking in the scent of power before placing soft kisses. Agatha melted, her hand coming back and wrapping in Rio’s hair as her kisses became more forceful before sucking lightly, but nonetheless leaving a deep purple in Agatha’s pale skin. She didn’t bother to lick it over, her hands exploring down to Agatha’s waist.
“My love,” Agatha’s voice stopped her.
She turned slowly, her arms around Rio’s neck. Her eyes were hopeful, but Rio sensed the nervousness through their connection. She could feel the battle raging in Agatha’s mind, two forces battling violently until the confidence won, her back straightening. She continued to search her eyes, wondering what got Agatha worked up like this.
“Tomorrow is a full moon, a Blood Moon,” Agatha started slowly, her hands now resting on Rio’s shoulders. “I was wondering, if it is possible–”
Rio chuckled, “For me to stay with you? Yes, my power grows as well so even when I am called, I have the ability to stay with you and do my job.”
Agatha shook her head, “That’s not what I was going to ask, but good to know. Um, you know the night is for rituals and spells, covens sharing their magic and parts of themselves with each other. I want to do one with you, my love.”
Her brows furrowed, not understanding what possibly Agatha could want from her. Her power would kill Agatha if she dared try to take it. She established this the third time they met and the witch never dared question nor went after them. Her mind ran, wondering if it was something darker. The Darkhold? No, Rio would never allow her to be corrupted by such evil. She would be beyond Death’s control and their connection would fall. Agatha’s hands came up, cradling Rio’s face as the silence passed between them.
“I found a ritual, one full of devotion and magic, and some other pleasures, and to do it tomorrow night would solidify it for eternity,” Agatha began, seeming worried at Rio’s stoic reaction. “Rio Vidal, my beautiful Lady Death, will you be my wife?”
If Rio could cry, she would. Her heart leapt as a smile erupted on her face. It was an infestation, the way her body warmed, how time seemed to stop for them. The plants around them grew, wrapping them in shrouds of ivy. Rio didn’t waste a second, her lips on Agatha’s, her tongue invading her mouth. To the heavens, she didn’t know she could love such a beautiful mortal. Agatha kissed back, still holding her like she was a delicate rose. She wiped the tears from Agatha’s cheeks, pulling her closer against her before pulling away, allowing her human to catch her breath. Their heads rested against the other, Rio’s eyes closed. It wouldn’t be her forever, at least not until she figured out how she would visit Agatha in the Afterlife or somehow trap her soul with Death. That was a problem for them many centuries later. It would be Agatha’s forever, and that’s all she needed for now.
Agatha laughed nervously, “Was that a yes?”
Death gasped, “Yes, my love, that was a yes. I will be your wife, and you will be mine, forever. ”