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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16


Written by NicoPony
Last updated: 05/06/2007 06:22:13 PM

Chapter 9

Black gave way to pearly gray, and finally resolved into dim light. He became conscious gradually, and the objects hanging over him resolved into several suspended lamps, which were mercifully dark. He smelled the clinical stink of antiseptic and heard the faint sounds of monitoring equipment.

Some part of his mind was screaming in panic. However, Death still had that curious feeling of unreality, as if he were in a dream and the world was just an illusion. He considered trying to move, but it seemed like too great an effort. There was also the matter of the crushing pressure on his chest that was making it difficult to breathe.

The weight lifted somewhat, and Threnody’s face appeared in his line of vision. He realized the pressure he was feeling was from her body, which was laying on top of him. Revulsion at physical contact mingled with the nausea he was experiencing from the anesthesia. She had draped herself along the length of his body, and he realized to his growing disgust, he was wearing nothing but a sheet.

Threnody was moaning in what seemed to be both pleasure and misery. Her cheek, when she pressed it alongside his own, was wet with tears. She was trying to hug his body close to her own. “I won’t let it happen,” she was whispering. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t...”

Death wished he could slip back into unconsciousness. She had her face pressed into his chest now, and was rocking back and forth as she cried. He was thankful at least, for the anesthesia that prevented him from feeling her skin touching his. She righted herself, her legs straddling his hips, and he saw that her front was covered in blood. He wondered how she had hurt herself, to have lost so much blood. She raised her right hand, which was equally as blood smeared. In her grip was a scalpel.

She stroked his face with the opposite hand. “I’ll remember you as you are, right now,” she whispered, and lowered the blade to his throat. “How beautiful you are to me.”

He understood then that the blood was not hers, but his own. And that by killing him and absorbing the necroplasmic energy from him as he died, she would achieve the ultimate high. He did not feel the blade pierce his neck, but did hear the squeal of one of the monitors nearby as his heart began to race. The sound distracted Threnody for a moment, and she failed to see the figure of Sinister suddenly appear. He backhanded her and sent her flying from the operating table.

Threnody hit the ground with a resounding thud.

“You stupid girl,” Sinister said.

“You can’t change him back, you can’t,” Threnody said. Death could no longer see her, but he heard her gain her footing on the cold metal floor.

“I can, and have,” Sinister replied.

“Nooo,” Threnody moaned. “No, he told you not to! He said he wouldn’t let you!”

Sinister turned away from the woman’s hysterics to tend the medical equipment. He made an adjustment to one of the machines before examining Death’s wounds. “I’m afraid he is no longer capable of making decisions for himself. My hand has been forced.”

Death’s vision swam as Sinister spoke: “Fortunately for our Horseman, Apocalypse afforded his creation with a super-human tolerance for pain as well as a particular immunity to disease and infection. Which should carry him through this next transformation successfully. It won’t be long now.”

Sinister, Threnody and the lab grew distant, and eventually disappeared.


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