But the humans….
I heard the ancestors’ voices in my head, chorus and echo, reprimanding me for my reluctance.
I looked up at them, but not in prayer. If I’d had a heart, it likely would have quailed, or broken, or skipped, or whatever it is hearts do when they’ve had their full of life’s dealings.
“Yes, I know. But I grow weary of dwelling in drafty halls full of shadows, and the stench of entrails and blood, and broken bodies strewn across the soil.
“The misty nights among the tombs hold no beauty for me anymore, not even by moonlight.
“And yes, the humans are foolish; they either don’t understand why they’re punished for evil, or the relish the pain and death, and seek our retribution.
“I am tired of their tears, their screams of suffering, and the pitiable prayers, and the endless stories of why their lives should be spared in the name of love, or the offers of their wealth, even their flesh in the earthly sense, bartered like the counterfeit coin it is, but they still believe it of value to us.
“No, my people. Release me from this darkness, for I am made of dark stone, indifferent to the killing now. It holds nothing more for me, and I have lived too long in it.”
I found that as my request was spoken, I began to feel lighter, even as my vision blurred and began to darken.
They heard me.
“As I have no part in Heaven’s light, let me embrace the final darkness, and see earth and damnation no more.”
Sit here, child, and wait for the sun.
I sat and waited, feeling the red hunger growing silent within me.
And crying final tears of blood, awaited my oblivion.
Nightshade Stories 