wip wednesday
Nightshade, chapter 11: fear of the afterlife
Nick was laying in his bed, surrounded by a nest of silk sheets and pillows. The comforting weight of June’s body rested against his side. The blue glow of dawn peeked through the windows, but he felt no rush to close the curtains. It was the weekend. He knew June wouldn’t have to leave him and they could lay here until the sun came up, when he would drift into a content, dreamless sleep with his girl in his arms.
“What’s it like?” June broke the silence suddenly.
“Living forever, I mean.”
“Even with other vampires?”
“We’re all just lonely together.”
June let out a chuckle that he felt against his ribs. It warmed him— made him smile.
But then her voice grew softer, more serious.
“It’s better than wondering when your time is up though, right?”
Nick took his time forming an answer to that. She waited patiently.
“Death is a natural part of the human experience. Without it… you don’t really feel like you’re living.”
“But I’ve felt like that my whole life.”
Nick looked at her, brows furrowed.
“Most of the time, I feel like I’m simply existing. Getting through the day, through the week, through the year… like it never ends, and I’m wandering aimlessly through the motions with no real purpose.”
Pained by what she was saying, he squeezed her protectively.
June shifted to lay on her stomach, resting her chin on his chest and smiling as she gazed into his eyes.
“I just think… for some, this sadness is hardwired into us. Maybe... whether we’re vampire or human, we all have to learn how to make room for it.”
Nick stared up at the ceiling and absently ran his fingertips over the curve of June’s hip, taking her words to heart. In all his years, he never thought about it the way she did. He couldn’t remember what it was like to be human, and spent his whole long life resenting his curse.
But was it really a curse? Or was it nothing more than a simple state of being?
“Why are you asking me about this?”
“Is it wrong to admit that I think about it sometimes?”
Nick sighed, a fist closing around his heart. She was talking about turning… about becoming a vampire like him.
Nick looked around, finding the bed empty.
Icy cold panic filled his veins as he tried to get up to find her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move a single limb.
Everything hurt. His muscles, his bones. In the distance he heard voices. Above, the ceiling of his loft turned into stark white lights that passed him by.
His throat was suddenly too dry. He could only whisper her name hoarsely. He couldn’t get enough air.
Why couldn’t he get enough air?
“Shhh.” A hand pressed against his chest. It was warm and soft and familiar. “You’re safe, Nick. Don’t try to speak.”
The last thing he remembered before blackness overtook him was a face surrounded by bright white light, hair glowing like a golden halo. His lover’s face. The face of an angel.
