Nails
He was digging, his nails were coming out one by one as he kept digging, and he wouldn't stop. Of course not, he was still giving his all, the shriek of the bell had not yet reached his ears; Although there was not even a bell to begin with. The lower half of her body was being sucked into what seemed to be a sinkhole of quicksand as black as her future and everything around her was deathly silent.
Matt was disoriented, he was more hungry and thirsty than Tantalus, he was more sore than Odin after throwing his eye into the well of mimir and he felt as lonely as only he could be. As it always had been.
—Come on… come on…— he repeated to himself relentlessly, the only sound reaching his eardrums except for the sand being constantly stirred by his bloody fingers. Matt had lost all notion of time and was very close to losing his sense of space. Again, where was he?
A shadow that could not see coming emerged from nowhere than the grayish and toxic mist of the atmosphere and as soon as he expected it an abysmal pressure fell on his head and plunged him almost completely into the sink. First he thought that what was killing him was a gigantic confused carrion bird that thought of him as food, Sure, he was dying and dying, but he was not dead! Then that being spoke and a gigantic chill ran through the last nerve of his body. —You are in my domain, Matthew Michael Murdock.
The woman lowered herself from her head and, like the divine being that she was, remained stoic above the quicksand while Matt continued to drown and deludedly cried out for her help, or rather: for her mercy.
—Welcome to Helheim, man of laws.— He was greeted by the goddess of death, the one whose first half was pure beauty and the other a necrotic warning of the horrors of which she was capable. The vigilante was finally expelled by the same sands that held him, then it was there that Murdock realized that there was no oxygen and that beyond that land there was nothing: His vision had access to the last meter of that shadow world and desolation, but nothing more. —As you will see, this is very close to what you followers of the Western religion would call Infernum.
—Why?— Was the only thing he dared to ask the mistress of the honorless dead, Matt couldn't remember. He did not really remember the events that had led him to this inhospitable place. The goddess, with her skeletal and putrid hand, made a circle in front of her eyes and began her torment; Murdock began to fall.
BAM!
He could see, Matthew could see himself! and the setting was no different from all the ones he had been around his entire life. Docks receiving innumerable traffics. Always a place away from the good of God where the worst that could happen was the most reasonable option that would happen in the future, sometimes it simply cannot be avoided.
—Look at you,— she said, helping him to get up from the filthy ground with her good hand, one with soft flesh and healthy tone, Matt couldn't help but be scared, his appearance was very surprising to those who didn't see many things in his life. —Another pathetic mortal destined for greatness who throws everything away for something so stupid. Aren't you ashamed?!
Hela kept berating him, but Matt didn't seem to care much that the very goddess in charge of hell (HIS hell) was trying to lecture him. No, not as soon as that guy entered the scene.
—Frank,— Murdock smiled at him and made an attempt to approach the well-known Punisher, but to no avail. Castle pierced him with a gun in hand, he didn't even notice him. —what?
—Are you also deaf? I just told you that none of this is happening in real time, it is just your useless memories suppressed by the wake of your death. —Snarled the not necessarily entirely dead woman to her right showing only that cadaverous half of her. raising his necrotic hand to draw him to the edge of the dock where the events of his past could best be admired; of his last night in the mortal world.
Various bodies were found bleeding on the floor, the containers full of weapons were open and only the Punisher seemed to rise above all of them as the victor. Wait, that's not how Matt sensed it… it wasn't a victory, it was a trap. Murdock looked over the containers, there it was.
—If you ask me, the spider has nothing to envy you. Look at that flexibility! You look like a dancer. —Hela said, surprising him a bit by appearing to his left where her precious human half was the only thing he could witness of her. The Matt who still did not know about his death moved with agility and subtlety over those gigantic containers that were seen a bit rusty after so many trips on the high seas, perceiving how the men inside them opened the doors fully armed to start with the ambush.
—Frank!— Hela turned to look at him reproachfully, but realized immediately that it was the Murdock from the past who was speaking.
—Red? Get out!
—They are within the ...!— Bullets, a sea of them that Daredevil dodged in the best possible way while Frank only hid behind the corpses he lifted while he emptied his magazines on those evildoers. But sooner or later they were going to run out and Matt's sticks wouldn't be enough to knock them out.
—At my side of existence go those who dare to die of old age or disease without proving their worth on the battlefield for the most part, but the wicked are not exempt either. In your case, you have been sentenced to Nastrandir for a notorious liar. —The first half of Hela, the dead one, watched with unnerving annoyance as those sworn enemies fought side by side without rest, while her second half, the precious one, admired with amazement the duality with which human beings could live without going crazy. ... Or well, not quite. —There is no worse crime against oneself than to deny ourselves our truth and hide it from the light. How can anyone be so blind?
—I do not know what you are talking about.— Frank was in trouble, his shields were disintegrating rapidly and he wasn't close enough to run to one of the containers and look for a weapon he could use.
—Do not lie to me! —The dead Hela reappeared beside him, looking bigger and twice as terrifying. But Matt was not disturbed by it, but by what she knew: she knew EVERYTHING, he did not have a single secret that he could keep to himself.
The land of his memories seemed to rumble with force under his feet, but the protagonists of that event did not seem to notice it in the least. Matthew took a deep breath, blanked his mind, and jumped on Frank.
—Even when I allowed you to see your final moments, do you dare to deny the facts?! —The living Hela appeared quickly, they were both so upset. Wait, they are the same being, and that had to be accepted no matter what. —TO ME?!
Matt looked back at his memories. Just to see himself pushing Castle into the entrance to the container he needed not caring if all those bullets ended up piercing his flesh and causing him a painful death and not fast enough.
—What else can I do?
Frank stormed out with weapons bearing the STARK seal on their sides ready to mow down those still nearby.
—Dying— The stage began to cloud slightly, Matt could not recognize the Punisher who little by little managed to get closer to his body while the enemies were falling, I did not recognize the Frank Castle who held his body and took off his helmet. Matt decided to get closer and Hela stayed behind. —That was your choice, wasn't it? I heard that once: "actions have more value than words", so dying for someone is denoted as ...
Murdock did not listen, Frank absorbed all his attention. That tear that fell on the dead cheek of his body Was it for him?
—Red? Everything turned even darker, a dense dark mist like a storm cloud began to surround them.
A necrotic hand fell like a burning iron on his shoulder. —This was not in our plans, I don't know how you did it, but you shouldn't have died. It wasn't your time, but here you are.
Another hand, the soft warm one, fell on his other shoulder in an almost imperceptible caress. —Why did you take his place, Matthew Michael Murdock? Tell me why you did it!
Matt lost sight of Frank, his corpse, and the stage. They were back in Helheim, more specifically Nastrandir, which would be their abode for all eternity.
—Hela, can i ask you something?
—What?
—Is there any way you can revive me?—
—Why should I do that? —Matthew could no longer see, but he could feel very well the goddess of the dead raised in the air and with her face divided between the beauty of eternal rest and the horror of the consequences that this entailed in front of his as if she were a monster more than eager to devour him. —Why you of all the stupid mortals lining up for eons?—
—Because I bet I'm the only miscalculation, the only one who managed to prevent a soul that belonged to you from coming into your world and I am the only one who has managed to stand up to you,— Matt said this completely convinced and that was how stoic he remained when with a slap to the air the goddess returned his vision. The earth rumbled with even more force than in his memories and in front of him all he saw was the most horrible face that has ever been witnessed.
—Say it again, mortal.
—Revive me or live with the regret of your imperfection in front of the other gods. And even with everything, Matt remained inert, waiting for the pride of the gods to fall in his favor.
—Why don't I make you rot in a lonely dark hole while we wait for your sweetie?
—Because you've made a mistake, I don't belong to you.— Murdock stepped forward and pushed Hela back to death, growing larger while she looked smaller and more vulnerable. She also had her secrets. —I accept my feelings and I want to make amends in front of the person I love, I died in battle. I am not your property, Hela.
—But Frank is, would you rather I take him too ?!
—But you can't turn back time. That's not your department! —Murdock extended his arm towards the goddess whose face reached horrible grimaces due to the negative feelings that overwhelmed her, the world continued to tremble and the dead, the punished men who if they deserved to be there, ran over others to seek some refuge that them save from the wrath of the goddess. Matt was in the eye of the hurricane. —Take me back to him!
—Shut! I'm not going to let a bland mortal order me around.— The goddess's eyes burned in flames and her two hands ended up on the vigilante's face to dig her nails deep into that cold, wet flesh. However, there was not the slightest bit of fear on Matt's face. —You're going to regret saving him!
—And you will be the mockery of your kind!
—SILENCE! —Hela finally released him and with her hands manipulated the mist that protected and restricted all attack on the Heilheim, the mist held him in the air and began to grind every bone in his immortal being with sheer pressure. —I WILL NEVER BE HUMBLED, AND IF SOME DAY I AM, IT WILL NOT BE FOR YOUR PROCEEDINGS, DAMN YOU!
The mist crept into his mouth quickly, inflating him like a balloon in an agonizing process that knocked his consciousness out of his mind: Matthew Michael Murdock died again.
.
.
.
—Mr. Murdock? He's alive… — His whole body ached, absolutely everything ached and exploded, especially his head. —Please don't get up.
Was he doing it? The world didn't feel the same, something had… amplified.
—Nurse Palmer?—
—You really got lucky, please don't push it and hold still.— Night Nurse checking his wounds, Rand hitting bad boys with his magic fist three blocks away, idiot Deadpool setting up a massacre across town, Oh this is new! Captain Marvel taking a moment to breathe in Maine. Something was not right, he had to back off.
—Frank?— Night Nurse looked at the door, but there was no one there; not for her. The Punisher heard them from the corridor. —Pass.
—I don't think I should have visitors at this time.
—Please.— Something inside him wanted to hurry, he needed it. Something was very wrong. The nurse thought about it for a minute before taking control of the emergency button next to her bed and putting it in her hands.
—You have ten minutes.— At this the nurse went out the door and Frank was encouraged to enter.
—What you did was very stupid, Red.
—I don't regret it, we turned out quite well.
—You were dead, Red. D-e-a-d.— Frank walked over to the gurney and turned the only chair beside him to rest his arms crossed on the back. Like in an interrogation scene in a typical cop movie. —You almost didn't come back, it's a miracle that the bullet aimed at your chest missed by an inch.
—They didn't get all of them.— One entered his hip, one ended under his ribs and another ended up in his thorax, all of them fragmented into various pieces of which most were successfully removed. But that didn't mean it wasn't going to hurt from time to time while patrolling.
—Be thankful you didn't go into a long coma.
—I guess God is on my side.— Frank growled at him, something completely expected and that also made him laugh. Hell, smiling hurt too.
—why did you do that? —Matt was speechless, he didn't want to give that answer. Even for a man like him it was difficult, uncomfortable and embarrassing. However, that feeling that time was running out was still there to riddle him — I want a good explanation, I deserve that at least.
—Because I care about you, Frank.
—I do not believe you. —Was what the former marine replied, so Matt couldn't digest it.
—What…? Frank, I care about you.
—Come on, Red, you can do better.
—Frank, you big idiot, if you died I would feel horrible.— Murdock, despite Nurse Palmer's insistence before leaving, forced himself to lift his torso as high as he could to face the cretin he was sadly in love with. Had he been worth the bullets that pierced him? Matt was thinking about it. —You are important to me.
—It doesn't sound honest at all, lawyer.
—Your life has value to me, Fra ...
—Nope.
—Damn, I love you!— His opponent pressed him against the gurney, he had overdone himself and was about to pass out from the pain. But he was free and completely honest, the time limit no longer mattered. Castle stroked her hair.
—That's something I can believe.