The Dark Somnium - I Bought my Wife a Life Extension Plan

Episode Date: October 14, 2024

This story was written by T.J Lea, check out more of his stuff over on the  @DusklightRadio  channel.Special thanks to  @RomNex  for joining me in this!00:00 The First Month04:24 The Second Month17:38 The Third Month26:18 The Fourth Month44:10 The Fifth Month50:06 The Sixth Month1:29:19 A New Month Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The first month. Overcast, mild temperature. An owl turns its head to stare through our window as we awaken. It was 8.58 a.m. on a Tuesday, and once again, it was the sounds of violent seizing on the floor by my bed that awoke me. Stumbling in a stupor to cradle my wife's head and soothe her as her eyes rolled back and joints locked and pulled while her mouth foamed was tough. Finding the opening in her mouth to administer her rescue medication might asole. Lam, watching the paste coat her gums and hoping that it'll settle her while assuring her I loved her and didn't want to hurt her was always harder.

Then came the grunts. The dismal groans as her back arched and her shoulders rolled before her breathing grew slower, labored, and she entered a state not dissimilar to dreaming, but without waking up. Blue flashing lights, paramedics gently moving me aside to administer oxygen and prep her to move to the ambulance. The long drive to the hospital, the slow but steady come around with confusion, and the doctors with well-meaning smiles and pats on the shoulder, assuring me in a calm, collected, and distant tone, you're doing the best you can, given the circumstances. Somewhere in that hospital ward, I would always see a flicker of something in the darker parts of the halls,

Shadows clinging to the last vestiges of darkness that the powerful fluorescent lights could not reach. Never enough to warrant panic, but plenty to invite dread into my body and let it nestle there while I smiled, thanked the doctor, and packed up my wife's things, knowing I'd be back before long, knowing it only get worse from here. Amelia is sick, that much is obvious to you all by this point. We'd been having a spirited Nerf war in our newly purchased home, as a newly hitched couple, fully within the throes of love and in the honeymoon phase of our relationship that had lasted seven and a half blissful years so far.

She lost her footing, stumbled, and slurred something before smashing her head on the coffee table and seizing on the floor. For as long as I live, I will not forget the image of her face frozen in total neutrality as her brain bled, nor the sound her skull made as it collided with the mahogany. Doctors would conclude it was a stroke, but the genuine terror lay in their subsequent tests. The stern faces, the high-quality scans showcasing a highlighted mass gripping into the soft flesh of her brain. Amelia has glioplastoma, aggressive glioplastoma. It grows silent, muted in the office as we listen to the doctor run through options of treatment.

and palliative care. She talks about various kinds of radiotherapy, surgeries with enormous risks and pills to manage the suffering. I can read her lips, but the tone escapes me. A hum has crept into the room, and a darkness fills the corner of my vision, like someone is pouring oil into my eye sockets. I feel something put stiff hands on my shoulder and my skin bristles. Before I can react, Amelia's hand is in mind as she speaks.

No, I won't be needing treatment. We'll do this her own way. Thank you. She stands up, gently nods in the doctor's direction, and heads for the door. I see the doctor's glasses fog over, and she grabs my wrist suddenly as I leave. Her bottom lip trembling as she extends a small card, telling me that if she doesn't want treatment, that's fine, but I could still do something for her, from something she called their extensions branch. I don't have the ability to respond.

I merely nod, place the card in my pocket, and take her soft hand as we exit the office. My eyes fixated on her hair tied into blonde and pink space buns as she walks with purpose in her step, humming to herself. It's funny what you focus on when the world falls around you, but it doesn't grant you respite from the uncomfortable truth laid bare before you. Amelia has mere months to live. My wonderful, one-of-a-kind wife has months to live. The second month. Dark clouds. Rain batters the windows, failing to deter a black beetle that crawls across our window seal.

Steadfast in his job that remains unknown to us. His iridescent shell glistening in the faint light of my bedside cabinet, gripping a small twig in its mandibles. I carefully pick him up and deposit him into an old shoe until the rain passes. Dedication should always be rewarded. Everyone talks about how their loved one lights up a room when they walk in, or is the life of the party or some other extroverted phrase, but that has never been Amelia. She's always been a woman with two sides to herself, the calm, collected, and dignified side that the outside world sees, one where she can keep people at arm's length and ensure she never has to be more than the wallflower if she so wishes. Then there's the side I, her family, and limited loved ones know.

The rambunctious, witty, eccentric woman who spent her life going through phases of interest in so many subjects that it makes an ordinary guy like me have his head spinning. From cryptozoology to architecture and Roman history, Amelia dove in head first and allowed herself to be absorbed by the rich tapestry of knowledge, regaling me with all her findings during the day, and sometimes even acting out fun plays or activities from the time periods and subjects. It was never a dull moment with her. The first year I met her, she was a lover of surrealist films, art, and music. We bonded over my Twin Peaks hat and a love of vocalist Mike Patton, spent our first date watching Eraserhead before she took my hand in hers and told me,

This is it, Jasper. I no longer need to search. And by God, if I didn't believe her. I want you to understand who she is, what she means to me, because otherwise I fear my decision-making the past nine months will not fully be appreciated, or worse, scorned. The first month involved a lot of pent-up emotions on my end, and stoic optimism on hers. She was always a spiritual person who ostensibly believed that, while there was no particular God who would answer her prayers, but we didn't come to Sturgeon for nothing, and she trusted in the powers that be to determine what would happen next. Easy for her to say when she wasn't

the one witnessing the steady decline of the one she loved. Countless days spent watching her muscles weaken, her cognitive abilities grow worse, and her memory faltered. Never did I think I'd be telling my 32-year-old wife that I was her husband, and not an intruder that she needed to fear, nor a teacher coming to discipline her. Those nights were the hardest on us both. I slipped out one evening when her diazepam had knocked her out for the night, and while sobbing in the car, punching my steering wheel, as the heavy rain muffled my cries, I remembered the card I'd been given, black with red velvet letters that danced off beautifully crafted stationery, a small lotus flower on one side, a painted skull on the other, a simple question adorning

the top of the card, do you want more time? I swallowed, wiping my face free of tears, and scoffing at the notion. Who doesn't? Beneath the question was an address and the title of the business card. Dr. D.D.'s Life Extension Service, a proud subsidiary of St. Martin's Hospital. Finally, what I assumed the motto with an official medical seal affixed at the bottom. Moments are finite, but memories are infinite. That was all I needed in order to make the trip. I had nothing else to lose. I took one look out the window at the silent bedroom where my wonderful wife slept, hopefully, peacefully. I called my mother-in-law and asked her to keep watch, said I had to make a pickup for Amelia's new meds and jutted off into the night. The trip was a blur. I spent the entire time with fingers

drumming the steering wheel to a beat only I could hear, lights flashing by like checkpoints on a racetrack as I hurtled down the main roads until a small sign jutted out of an intersection. Myopic Road, south, Sturgeon Central, northwest, Dr. Dedey's Life Extension Service, east, two miles. Turning my car onto the dimly lit street, I knew that no matter what I encountered or trials I faced, it would be worth the effort. If it means giving Amelia more time, anything was. The converted shipping container sat in the center of a large clearing, but I assumed was once a parking lot.

Rust still steadily overtook the sides of the structure, white paint interspersed with bright red lettering, and a neon sign flashing its availability kept the building and parking lot area lit. But the greater area was still enshrouded in a thick darkness that felt far too imposing for its own good. Still, I was determined, and no amount of threatening ore would deter me. I parked the car and stepped towards the small door affixed to the side like a sewn-on appendage. A splinterless wooden material with black and gold patterns swirling in on themselves,

coalescing at the center where a peephole and a large door knocker sat. I sighed against the cold air and lifted it to knock before the door swung open, and a man beamed at me from behind a pair of circular sunglasses and a modified plague mask. Ah, you're here for the parogi? His voice was soft, pleasant and inviting, a smell of cinnamon and ginseng wafting from the interior. Uh, no, I'm here for it. Of course. Nobody has ever here for the Barogi anymore. Mrs. Langston always gets the most customers.

The last time I ever share a recipe in the community amateur cooking group, I know what you're here for, Mr. Lambert. Come on in and sit in any seat you like. He hastily shut the door behind me before hurrying off to the far end of the container, where a stack of shelves and books sat before I could even ask him how he knew. Instead, I turned my attention to the consultation area he'd compiled, where, predictably, just one chair sat opposite to his. What is your spouse's affliction?

He called, muttering occasionally. No, not that one. Hmm, maybe this. While busy hands rummage for unseen concoctions. I realized I hadn't even set it out loud to another soul since she got diagnosed. Glioblastoma, stage four, she has at best three months. The words spilled out of my mouth like ash, the bitterness on my tongue enough to make me vomit with anger.

Hmm. I see. What makes your wife happiest? He held a blue beaker up to the light, and something behind his thick, circular shades glistened before he shrugged and cast it aside. When I didn't know how to respond, he tilted his head back. This works if I understand your connection. I mean, really understand it.

So please, humor me. Well, I mean, she loves to travel. Strawberry ice cream, rainy days, and... No. What makes her truly happy? This is your wife, not a buyer on a corporate profile. I thought for a moment, and my legs started shaking. Nowadays, it's the first precious minutes or hours before sickness overwhelms her.

where she can think, be coherent, and be her normal self. When she wakes up, she's strong enough in mind and body to cut her bonsai tree in place. She spends time with her lizards and even talks to them. She's not burdened by the pain, the vomiting, or the notion that at any given moment she could drop to the floor and into a world where she's alone, vulnerable, and unable to get help. Her happiness comes from the luxury of not thinking about death for a time, but, But before, I can see the image burned into my head. Not a memory, but a moment that would never come to pass.

An event so desperate to bring itself into existence. And yet undeniably so far from my grasp, it was the prospect of becoming a mother. I swallowed and felt shards puncture my throat. I hated this. The doctor found what he was looking for, and with a book in hand, walked over to the desk, placing the potion and booked down in front of me as he sighed. I see. And what would you give up to ensure that happiness endues?

He placed his hands together in front of me pensively and studied me as I shifted in my seat. Anything. I would give anything to see her better, to have more time and carve out a niche for us. I'm not ready. She is not ready. He tilted his head to the side and tapped his index fingers together. You're sure. Have you discussed this with her?

I don't think I need to point out that this extension plan is not orthodox, Mr. Lambert. Nothing in Sturgeon is orthodox, Doc, but no, I haven't discussed it with her. Right now, Amelia can't tell day from night some days, and others are spent keeping it together long enough to make those good days mean something. She doesn't need to add more to her plate. It's my job to help her, and that's what I'll do, come hell or high water. There was a pause, his hands lowered, and he opened the thick leather tome to a specific page, turning it towards me and gesturing from my hand.

Upon handing it to me, he pricked my finger. Last question. What scares you, Jasper? His hands were ice cold, and he didn't release his grip on my wrist, but a steeled resolve and months of emotional toil had taken their toll. I knew coming here was a risk. Nothing except losing her before we're ready, I replied flatly. His cheekbones rose, and I could sense a smile behind the mask as he let go and gestured to look at the book.

It was a life extension contract. Once you sign on that dotted line, you will fear everything. If you wish to extend Amelia's life, you will give up your sense of security. This contract lasts for one month, and during that, At that time she will feel reinvigorated and will appear well. But once you reach the 30th day, she will deteriorate once more and your time will be up. That should be enough time to sort out your affairs. But if it's not, well, we can renegotiate.

And perhaps you'll want some pierogi then. What did I have to lose? A month of normalcy and a chance to do everything we wanted? How could I turn that down for something as incontory? inconsequential as my own fears. No price was too high. I sighed. He snapped the book shut, startling me in my seat and staring for a moment, leaning down and peering into my eyes. Was he always this tall, this imposing? What did he see when he looked at me? I felt like a guinea pig in a lab, ready to be pricked and prodded for all manner of horrible

things, and sweat ran down my brow in those tense moments before the hidden smile of flashed up on his cheekbones, and he handed me a vial of blue liquid. Good. Our contract has begun, and this is what you'll need. Simply add it into whatever Amelia drinks or eats, and you'll see results within the hour. While you'll feel the effects immediately, hers will not start until after ingestion. I'll even be kind and wait until she's eaten to start the month. But only if you take my pierogi recipe. He held up a finger and chuckled.

Why was he so obsessed with this food? Did he do something to it? What's in the recipe? My stupid mouth blurted out before I could stop my tongue wagging, and he laughed harder. I'm sure that to him it was jovial and pleasant, but it screamed malice to me. Oh, ho, ho, that would be telling. He wagged his finger and said goodbye as I hurried for the door. The black void outside no more inviting than his workshop of horrors.

What unseen monsters lurked in the dark, waiting to get me. Even as I ran to the car some 30 feet away, I felt invisible hands reach out to grab at my shirt, pull at my ankles, and tear at my skin just for a bite of my flesh. But they never caught up. No, I'm too fast for that. I locked my doors and raced home to beat the sunrise, triple-bolting the front door and checking every window upon arrival and putting the blue liquid into Amelia's morning juice. Here's to hoping I didn't just give up more than I could afford for nothing in return. The third month. Clear skies exposing a scorching sun, bright rays seeping through the window with a soft breeze

bringing the smell of barbecues and log fires on the wind. In the nearby lake, a crane bird flies down to take a drink. Something emerges from a wound on its throat, pushing at the slit to get free. It feels like it's looking at me. In the foreground, a sea of black clouds roll in, bringing with them a sense of intense dread. Despite this dread, the sun's presence would not be denied, and the familiar warmth it brought was just as much a comfort. The first thing that shocked me out of my stupor was the door being kicked in, a deafening boom

that shattered my eardrums and sent my heart into overdrive, the fear of someone coming to Take me away from Amelia, or worse, take Amelia to a home and away from my care, a place for her to die alone and afraid. Instead, as frantic eyes turned toward the front door to see my attacker, I see Amelia. She's fully dressed, dungarees with one strap exposing a colorful polka dot top, and her beautiful hair cascading down her shoulders. The tops of her fringe held up by a pair of oversized goggles and her favorite chameleon, Gustav on her shoulder. She was beaming at me with the most boyish grin I'd ever seen on her.

A Nerf gun pointed directly at me. Wake up, maggot! The sun is shining and it's time for a Nerf war. It's a new day. Yes, it is. She giggled, and I felt my heart swell with joy as my fear gave way to adulation. She was better. It worked. I pushed innate fears down into my core and forced a smile as I leapt out of bed, grabbing a Nerf gun and giving her a 30-second head start. 29 years old and I still acted like a child hopped up on sugar, but I guess that's what love is at its core, feeling perpetually young.

I heard her dash away, bare feet slapping against the cedar flooring as she found a tactical advantage. Within a few seconds, the house fell silent. Traipsing through the house and spying any advantage points, I began to see the home I'd lived in with her for years in a completely day. different light. Maybe it was the lack of natural lighting, perhaps I was still tired, but I did not recall there being so many imposing structures and shapes in my living room. A coat rack shaped like a twisted, elongated facsimile of a man, his arms pulling at his own spine as jagged feet stuck out in a menacing attempt to catch me, but frozen in time. The creeks and groans

of the house settling now akin to the grumblings of a stomach possessed by an ancient, malignant creature that wanted nothing more than to digest us whole. But it was the shape behind the curtains that caught my attention most, bulbous and plump. It danced behind the fabric and invited me to investigate further, beckoning me with giggles, punctuated with wheezes. It sounded wrong. The lump in my throat threatened to choke me from the tension, and I had no choice but to move forward.

Shaking, hand outstretched to grab the fabric and yank it aside, I felt a sharp pang in my back. and howling laughter from behind me as Amelia doubled over and ran off, daring me to catch her. When I turned back, the curtain had returned to its normal shape. I stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, as my fear dampened and detention headache took its place. Amelia walked up to put her hand on my shoulder and the other against my forehead. Her smile faded and was replaced with concern. Hey, you feeling okay? I know that's funny for me to ask, but...

I said nothing. How could I? This was not my moment to need care and sympathy. This was hers, and she deserved every ounce of it. But that didn't change the overwhelming dread, and exhaustion took its place. I didn't realize how utterly tired I was until I truly took in the events around me, playing games with my terminally ill wife, who not three days prior, had been bedridden and unable to tell me what year it was. I pulled her into a long hug and sobbed into her shoulder as she soothed me, running her hands

through my hair and whispering reassurances. It's all right. It's really me. I guess these meds worked wonders, huh? Let's enjoy the time we have, okay? I nodded and let her calming smell linger, steadying my body even as the energy dissipated from me. All things crawl into hellless mouth eventually, Jasper.

It's just a matter of how much you season the meat first." Something pushed its way into my ear, hot, slimy, and burning at my flesh as I pushed with everything I had to get away. Unable to fully break free, my eyes are directed towards the floor where Amelia's feet stand. But the decay, wrought, and bloated flesh peering back up at me barely resembled the maintained and dainty feet of my wife. These were clearly belonging to that of a corpse. The nails yellowing and peeling away from the toes, bone pushing up to the thinning skin

with such force had split the flesh. Before I could press my fingers against the rot to consider my own sanity, my body failed me, and the world faded to black. When I next awoke, it was to the darkness of the bedroom and a cold rag on my head. Amelia told me I passed out and had a fever, but that she was happy to have the role switched for once. I couldn't even speak for the pain. Hearing her talk was enough to soothe me.

Eventually the fever would break, and I finally allowed the impossible to set in with one question. Amelia, what do you want to do with the time we have? She stopped what she was doing and looked at me with all the warmth and love a human being could muster, as if she'd been given the keys to the kingdom. Spend it like it's going out of style. So it went, 29 days of doing things we knew she couldn't do before and would struggle to do after. We binge the later series of Twin Peaks and found it wanting. We traveled to the edge of Sturgeon after hearing rumors of the best damn gelato you'd get in this or any other dimension.

We evened our Nerf war score and vowed the war would continue on. We loved unconditionally and without fear of what came after the three glorious weeks. As I got more comfortable, I could deny all the things at the corner of my vision, shrug off the night terrors when I awoke in her arms and knew she was safe. Anger was no longer a source of comfort in quiet nights of pontificating over her condition. Now it was replaced with contentment. Then, on the morning of the 30th day, she began slurring her words. By the afternoon, her balance was waning, and she fell into my arms some inches from the

doomed coffee table that her skull collided with previously. When dinner came around, she forgot how to cook a steak and nearly burned herself in the process. Shame written across her face as she slumped away to bed and cried. As the night gave way to dawn and we reached day 31, she had a seizure. The dream was shattered and we were once again back where we started. But now with the added pain of what could have been ripped away to expose a fresh and sensitive wound, throw in the fear of everything around me and I was at a breaking point. I looked at her in bed, a fragile thing with her face looking closer to 42 than 30.

32, as her body tried and failed to fight off the damage being wrought from within. She was decaying before my very eyes, and that scared me more than any door slam, errant tree branch looking like a malformed fist or strange thing floating in my eye. There was no other option. You have to understand. I had to go back to Deities and renegotiate the extension plan. It didn't matter that every tree on my frantic drive there seemed to lean forward, the night sky becoming less visible, a tunnel of bark with me none the wiser of what's on the other side.

It didn't matter that the whispers that had been lingering in my ear for weeks were now subdued shrieks and threats of what will happen if I continue to ignore them. It didn't matter that something was hiding behind every single telephone pole, and I was catching more of its shape with every glance behind me as the road thinned out. All that matters is Amelia. You'd do the same in my shoes, right? even if the next three months were hell. The fourth month.

Hale spits from the skies, and thunderclaps sound like gray oaks crashing around my home. Giant footsteps tentatively growing closer and threatening to uproot my home at a moment's notice the second I let my guard down and take Amelia to the depths of the blackened skies. I see a snake in the underbrush outside of my yard, biting on his tail. I call my dad, and after some profuse apologies, For the late-night inconvenience, he agrees to watch over Amelia while I go to renegotiate. I can see the sympathy written across the smile lines in his aged face. Forever an empathetic man, he was good to turn to for advice, but not for this.

Son, if you need to go somewhere to, you know, blow off some steam and let it all out, you know it's healthy, right? Nobody will judge you. He trails off as we stand in my living room. Man shouldn't watch his true love go like this. Not so soon. I know, Dad, but I know she can beat this. We can get better, even just for a little while.

He looks at me quizzically. I tie the knots on my shoes with an added sense of determination. Jasper, when it's time, it's time. You know, I got some pamphlets on how to cope. There's this one that talks about Kubler Ross, and I think you're at stage. I stand up and hear my voice crack. when I retort, the words acidic in my throat as they ooze past my lips. I know what stage I'm at. I'm at the stage of doing whatever it takes to make that woman

comfortable as possible for as long as possible. Are you going to help me or not? There was a silence, the weight of the words hanging in the air and fall on dad's shoulders as he considers his response. Instead, he simply pulls me in for a hug and pats my back. I get it, kid. A man's business is his own, and a good father. her husband will always look out for his family. So when I tell you I'm here for you, warts and all, he pulls me away and presses his forehead against mine, his composure waning. I mean it. Do what you got to do and come back here to help that amazing little lady.

I don't hear him the first time. My eyes shift to the divider connecting the living room to my kitchen, the fridge door opening. Why are their teeth in my fridge? No, wait. It's a mouth. A bright red man. mouth, tongue rolling out and exposing a fiery pit in the impossible blackness.

This is where it all ends, Jasper. Your defiance has consequences. A formless voice echoes around me, my skin bubbling and every hair standing on end. It felt wrong. Amelia will never go to such an ugly place. I won't allow it. I breathe. My dad not moving as everything seems to be frozen, save for the hellmouth that was once my fridge. It laughs, a hoarse, reptilian cackle that makes my eyes vibrate in their sockets. The fridge mouth forms a head around it.

Red eyes and black fur with piercing fangs that protrude to the point of disbelief. Small spectral shapes funnel into the mouth, poked and prodded by an unseen tormentor. It's not her who shall venture into the jaws of the beast, but you, she will watch your body crush in its mighty jaws. It mocks, the mouth growing and filling me with an unspeakable dread, letting me know that this was a fight or flight moment. I shut my eyes, holding my dad for a moment and praying it would pass. It's for Amelia, I will suffer whatever the world hurls at me for her. A mantra I would keep in mind no matter what happened, terrified of what would happen when

the words grow hollow. I counted back from ten, steadying my breathing. She will die alone and afraid, kicking and screaming. Seven seconds. I could feel a low hum run through my flesh and puncture my muscles. Something was moving towards me. You will never know how scared she was. Why?

Three seconds. It's hot, fetid breath bristled against my cheeks. It smelled of rot, lard, and sage. Because that's what will hurt you the most. I snapped my eyes open and found myself looking into my dad's kind. eyes. A moment hadn't passed for him. I swallowed and backed away, nodding in appreciation and reluctant to share what I'd seen. I'm going to go check on her once more before I go. I mumbled, running hands over tired eyes to wipe away sleep and unseen tears. Sure enough, she was fast

asleep and heavily medicated, small chest rising and falling rhythmically as her eyes fluttered. I was thankful for her lack of awareness at this moment at least. One last. One last, she was. last glance at the fridge as I head outside, just for my own sake. It was normal, save for a small line running down the floor, looking not dissimilar to a claw mark. I found coping mechanisms as time went on to deal with the majority of my anxieties. I suppose most people deal when under immense stress. Thankfully, mine weren't too damaging.

Music and podcast tended to be where my mind gravitated towards, and I'm told the former holds great sway over the minds here in Sturgeon. Personally, my favorite is Dusklight Radio. I'd constantly have it on in the background while driving around. You can't find a heartfelt moment without some accompanying tunes, passers-by would remark. I suppose it's a good cushion, in a way, finding solitude in the crooning of a musician who sings about their own pains and struggles. We connect with their pain, and in some way, imagine it's our own being shared. I lost myself to the dulcet tones on the radio before pulling up at Dede's, hammering on the door despite mounting concern of what I'd find inside.

It's open, Jasper. Let yourself in. I'm a little preoccupied right now. That silky, smooth voice was almost melodic in tone as I pushed on the latch and walked into the dark room filled with a strange chemical lighting. On the large table opposite his apothecary was a strange, writhing beast. It hissed as I shut the door and set me with my back. against the wall in shock. Beattie black eyes fixed on me as a barbed tongue lashed around

its head and a mass of red fur caked the body, small but powerful limbs fastened to the table. Deedy looked at me and his cheekbones rise again as he relishes in my fear. The circular lenses around his eyes fog up with heavy breaths as he pulls on his leather gloves and reaches for something under the table. Ah, don't mind meridoo here. He's been rather. He's stabs the creature in the chest with a hypodermic needle and pushes on the plunger. A faint wheeze leaves the beast's mouth as its limbs grow limp and eyes fade. Uncooperative. But a job is a job. Hopefully the baking club won't be too upset with me. I feel sweat run down my brow as I try to

mouth the words, why, amid a sea of confusion. He picks up on it before I can intonate the words and sets about finding a potion on his vast bookshelf. Well, sometimes people have disagreements, and sometimes those who feel wronged may make a pact with a creature that feeds off of negative energy until it can eat the wizard husk. Those people are dicks. Medidu here...

He turns around and prized the creature's massive jaws apart, pouring a thick gunk down his gullet and forcing the mouth closed as the beast thrashes in protest, Ah, he wasn't meant to be. I may be a fan of the Baker's Club, and in my humble opinion, the most experienced among them. But I have a job to do, and that involves getting this delightful fellow back to where he belongs, in his cozy enclosure at the dusk-light circus. The body relaxes, and he places a sleeping cap over its eyes, seeing my shaken-up form and gesturing to the usual spot on the table, chuckling. Also, I wanted to see how you're not.

life with fear was faring with you. I take it you want to extend the deal, Jasper. Unsteady legs took me to the chair, and I awkwardly nodded as he pulled out the great ledger from before. Flicking through at an expedient pace, I could still make out small indentations of clientele and numbers affixed to each person, a concoction in bold letters. How many deals has he made? Jasper, I'm but a simple cook and problem fixer.

Some call it dark magical potion selling, but all I offer is time. Temporary time. He put his finger next to my name and tapped. You are free to extend the negotiation, of course. But it comes with additional terms. I must warn you of what awaits you. He sighs and walks to his window, staring out at the supermoon, bathing sturgeon in a faded yellow glow. Is she worth it, Jasper?

Is this what she would want? His voice soft, sympathetic, filled with empathy and a hint of curiosity. I don't think she'd want to go yet. But is she worth it? What kind of question is that? She's worth everything. I felt my back straightened up and my chest puff out involuntarily. Just the notion that she somehow wasn't worth this was beyond my comprehension.

It was offensive. Whatever you need to add to this, I don't care. We need more time. I can't stand to see her suffer like this. There has to be something, anything. But don't you ever imply she's not worth it? I'd rather live the next 40 years of my life in crippling fear with her than a single day without. He doesn't turn towards me, but I can sense he's satisfied with my answer as I slump back in the chair, still exhausted.

They've started talking to you, haven't they? You're becoming a conductor for them. And they're only going to get stronger and bolder, the longer you're aware. of them, you know. I don't care. They can't have Amelia. They never will. I was defiant,

steadfast, and that much. He shook his head. Jasper, they're not coming to take her away because she's dying. They're not body snatchers. They're coming for you because you're now a threat to them. It dawns on him that I don't have a clue what he means. He grabs a small book and pulls it open, thumbing through the pages until he comes across a photo of a towering man with his arm

outstretched, a helm made of bone and gold adorning his head, his torso covered by a toga, but the myriad of faces mixed in expressions of pain, pleasure and rage, impossible not to notice. You took something from their king, something he was owed, and now he has sent his followers after you to protect his standing. People are not supposed to defy the natural order, Jasper. Who is he? I breathed, staring at him, filling me with dread. I said. Nurgle, God King of the Sunset and ruler of one of the underworlds of pestilence. I suppose he's gotten wise to my services and has sought to put things right in his own way.

If you go down this road, Jasper, it will bring you pain. He sat back down and turned the book over, a small needle with which to prick my finger and the concoctions sitting by his side. Make sure this is what you want. to extend it again, I will need to take your sense of ignorance. I will make you see more of what you're not supposed to see. Will I be safe? I feel my neck tighten and my mouth grow dry. He smiles again. No, but you'll be happy. Isn't that the point? He pulls a small charm from his pocket and puts it around my neck. It's old and heavy, but feels comforting.

So long as you keep this on you, they will not be able to physically harm you. Everything else is up to you. He shakes his head, tutting. Sixty days. That's all I can give you. Two months, but what? Because by the end of it, come hell or high water, you will beg me to cease the contract and life will go on. He was blunt, to the point, detached.

I want you to come back in one month to check in. See where your head is at. With any luck, you'll want to end things early. I signed before he could finish, knowing that I would savor every day I had with Amelia, even if my arms were torn from my body. I appreciate this, Doc. Amelia is going to be so happy. I just know it.

My head buried in the book, I didn't notice the light changing. Do me a favor, Jasper. Don't look at the moon when you leave. Better yet, don't look at it at all tonight. Now that you're unable to filter things or ignore them, it may be a little much for you. You might not like what you see." I finished and attempted to quiz him on what he meant, but the light emanating from the window stopped me dead in my tracks and had me standing up on instinct.

A sickly green had replaced the familiar yellow and was pulsating rhythmically, as if signaling to something, to me. The last man who saw through the veneer of Sturgeon's barriers separating us from them had looked to the stars and realized the truth. I don't think you are quite ready for the same thing. So no matter what you hear, do not look at the moon. Understand? He kept his hands behind his back and returned to staring wistfully at it, letting his mind wander.

It is beautiful, though. My word. What do you see when you look at it, Doc? He paused and something in him twitched. Unnatural. Wrong. Everything. Good luck, Jasper.

Do watch your step on the way out. Our guest might wake up. I took a sideways glance to Meridu, unmoving on the table. Tongue still lazily swaying off the side, unfocused eyes staring in my direction. The drive home was tense, no music or podcasts. They just kept talking about the night sky and how the glow was good for the skin, especially when naked. They suggested we should all be naked in its magnificent glow, and if possible, grab other

people to do it too. They started describing it, but the words turned to static in my ears, and eventually I just switched it off. It'll be fine. It's all for Amelia. I will suffer whatever the world hurls at me for her. I breath, mantra doing its best to bring down my heart rate, eager to see her happy and healthy once more.

Rounding off the bend and coming up my driveway, I catch sight of something slithering away from my view, scaly limbs pushing a sleek body quickly out of sight. I clenched my fist tight to stop my hands shaking and moved with purpose. The moment I crossed that threshold, I would not let my fear cripple me. Brave faces, everyone. I tried not to register the dull hum permeating through the house, the soft chanting with sinister lyrics, the way the light flickered as I turned a corner to reveal a pale creature standing still, waiting.

I smiled at my dad and shook his hand, and he said she'd been a treat to supervise. I didn't tell him that something was latched to his neck, warming its way through his ears and nibbling on his temples, repeating his deeds ad nauseum. I couldn't bear to tell him what it was saying, but I was thanking him. I was thankful to know his mistakes as a young man from his own lips. Honesty kept our family alive, and it helped me safe face in front of him as this parasite barked them out. Not the dad would understand what was going on if he tried. He was a divorcee, and I was his only son.

Grief was not something his adult life had experienced much. Heartbreak, depression, sure, but not grief. I saw him out and hastily put the concoction into Amelia's meal as I doomscrolled on my phone, an ugly habit, but one that helped pass the time. A video memory popped up of us, one of those little reminders that Facebook loves to put in front of us that time is slowly slipping away moment by moment. We are getting older, and there's nothing we can do to stop its ceaseless march. I bet that sounded clever in my head, but out loud it sounds cynical and mean-spirited,

which, given the circumstances, is permissible. Because as I look at the video of a younger me and Amelia, laughing and hosting a Twin Peaks watch party, I spy a pair of faces that I'd not seen in nearly a decade. Our best friends, Mariana and Caitlin, arm and arm and full of life, full of joy and love. They died on the way home from this party. Drunk driver hit them with the full force of his pickup. He lived, regrettably. A thought struck me like a bolt and stuck with me as I finished the mix.

Taking it to Amelia's room and resting in the armchair by her bedside so she could relax. Something that aged me and set about pushing my resolve to its absolute limits as the nature of morality hit me like a renewed wave. How many dead friends do I have on social media? The fifth month. Clear skies and a soft breeze. Flowers begin to bloom and nature crawls out from the underbrush to proliferate. grows, feeds, exists. Everything is in its place, and Amelia is better once more. She doesn't ask me

how it's possible when she feels well enough mentally and physically to make her own lunch. She doesn't question it when she's able to go out for a long walk to the animal shelter and give the lonely dog some love. She just takes the moment with both hands and holds it close to her chest. In the small, quiet moments where the foul whispers can't reach me, and things aren't protruding from every single crack or crevice to mock me, I can just enjoy her happiness. I take her on road trips to her favorite destinations. We do midnight movie drives so she can watch the Godzilla movies in anticipation of the final showdown she's almost certainly not going to see.

But we don't focus on that. We just focus on what we have now. We talk more, a lot more. I tell her about my fears of what happens when she's gone. She listens and absorbs them, waiting until I've spilled out every ugly feeling in me and felt lighter for it. Then, one night, near the end of the month, while lying in bed, desperately trying not to focus on the tree-like fists, smashing against the windows to get my attention, I ask her a question. What would you do if you could just stay here forever? Like this.

She stares, and her eyes seemed to twinkle in the light. How important is this to you, Jasper? I didn't miss a beat in replying. It's everything. You, me, this time when you're not sick. But I am sick, Jasper. I'm dying. She responded calmly, collected.

She was at peace. I know, I know, but what if we could find a way to make you better? She got up, a feigned smile masking months of pain and turmoil. Honey, I know this has been hard on you. Not knowing which version of me you'll get on any given day. seeing me at my worst. But this is part of the journey. It's what I expected.

You need to expect it, too. I tried biting my lip. This was all for her. The suffering was all for her. In hindsight, this was a stupid thing to say, but I was tired. I was immature. The trees outside craned their necks through the window to observe, sap dripping from their makeshift jaws.

You don't want to leave me on my own? You wouldn't even try to change things if you could? What about alternative medicine? Cutting age technology? What if you can make a deal that would give you more time? How could you just think of yourself? Immediate regret. The moment that question left me and shot its way to her ears, I knew I'd messed up.

I was expecting, maybe even hoping for an argument that was filled with expletives, bitter words, and regretful criticisms. But no, Amelia was beyond that. She turned to look at me with tears in her eyes and her shoulders shaking. I can see the strange insects crawling all over the tree bark, rotting it with their spit and looking for ways to get inside the house. What you want is not as important as how we process this. You are not the one dying, Jasper. You are not the one waking up and not knowing if you'll be able to go to the bathroom on your own, if you'll know what the word food means,

if you'll even remember who you are. It's selfish to leave you alone? You don't think I know that. You don't think I feel immeasurable guilt when I'm permitted to be lucid by this stupid disease. I want to spend every moment of freedom I have left in joy without fear of what it does for you after I'm gone until we reach the end.

My exit ticket has been punched, Jasper. I know when I'll be gone. It's up to you to figure out that lack long after. She sank against the wall, pulling at her hair and red-faced. I just want us to be happy. I just want to go out of this world with... She sank down, eyes glazing over as I tried to find words of comfort, the light in the room dimming a tad.

I already knew why. I didn't pay any attention to the... creatures skittering across the walls, sucking out the light and the remaining positive energy from the room determined to gain a foothold. I can hear them hiss in my ears, encouraging me to push Amelia further. I won't let you go. I will fight to the bitter end because that's what a life partner does. I replied solemnly, crouching down in front of her. I'm just not ready to throw in the towel, Amelia. I see a life ahead of us that has not yet been traveled. I'm determined. I'm determined. I'm determined to find a pathway there, and who knows? Maybe I've found one. I gently put my hand on

the side of her head, brushing tears aside to comfort her. But confused and frantic eyes looked up at me, eyes filled with fear and the instinct to fight or flight. In this moment, I'd let my guard down and forgotten exactly what she'd been saying this entire time as the bug shriek a chorus of their warning calls. Amelia was sick. She was fearful of which verily. diversion would come up when she woke every day. I had gotten too comfortable, too caught up in my fantasy of her being fine, not giving her more of the concoction. And it was the end of the month.

She said nothing, just growled, her teeth gritted, and she head-butted me with her full force as she pushed me to the ground and followed it up with a swift kick to send me into unconsciousness. The sixth month. heavy winds and a bitter chill. My first memory following untold time in total absence is finishing the dream of a sky burial. Not for Amelia, but for myself. I feel the weight of my body on the shoulders of those I love as they slowly, methodically, and carefully take my still warm corpse of a steep mountain.

I somehow feel the lick of the cold air and the refreshing sensation of it filling my lungs as we ascend. They lay me down on the peak in a small bed of hay. The sun reaching its zenith as soft chanting fills the small clearing with passions long since dissipated from my consciousness. Vultures come down and tear at my flesh, swallowing me like carrion, taking me into the sky, away from my problems. Something resembling my eye looks down and sees Amelia, safe and healthy, arms wrapped around a child that looks like. I was awakened with a force on my chest, burning on my skin and a splitting headache. The sky outside, a clear blue, a momentary respite before my memory kicked in.

My nose feels broken, and I can feel a huge bruise forming on my cheek where she kicked me. She may be small and sickly, but that woman had energy. The house was an absolute mess. Papers had been torn out of books and strewn across the floor. The lights were almost all absent, save for the kitchen light. Spilled food and drinks helped form a trail of carnage as I stumbled around the house, looking for Amelia and hoping she was all right. The bugs had changed their shriek to a low vibration of their wings that formed two consonants,

easily discernible to my now overly aware ears. Nurgle. Did this mean? A single note had been placed on the countertop, clean, save for the small glasses of blue liquid, filled halfway, and positioned in a circle around the note in the center. a small passage from a history book next to it. The passage detailed a bridge from mythology that once you crossed it, you could never return. It's a one-way passage for all souls, either dead, dying, or seeking respite to the next world,

guarded by an underworld king who coveted his domain like no other, known to send out emissaries to claim souls who resisted or those who sought to disrupt the order. A fixed to the bottom of the passage was a small pin on the Sturgeon map, showing one of our large bridges between the metropolitan area and Mantis Ranch, the Galgotha Passage. The note had six words that scared me more than anything my unfiltered eyes could sense, more than any consequences from my actions. It sent me rushing to the car in a blind panic of where to go first, to JJ for advice or to the Galgotha Bridge for absolution, scribed at the top in Emilio's familiar, beautiful

cursive, were the words, I'm sorry. I know. And in scratchy, jagged riding beneath were two more that chilled me to my core. It's time. Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythmless, undancing, mummified, Alan Watts. I won't mince words.

I messed up. The realization sank in that not only had Amelia Fibiris. figured out what I was doing, namely extending her life and giving her more time, but she was going to rectify it on her own. By letting Nurgel, a king of the underworld, take her across the Galgothan Bridge and claim her soul for good. I can't let that happen. Racing to D.D., I found it somewhat easier to block out every terrifying thing that

attempted to jump out at me or distract me. Sure, my palms were shaking, toes curled inwards to the point of straining them, my throat was scratchy and swollen, but I was more scared of losing her than anything else. I didn't wait to get an answer. I barged through the door and came face to face with the creature Dee Dee had been operating on prior. Black beady eyes bulged and a sea of slobber caked my shirt as it leapt at me, trying to buy to any appendage you could find.

Jesus! I cried, stumbling back, and the creature clamping its jaws down on my forearm, a pair of sharp incisors crushing the bone and something hot in a sea. acidic working its way through my veins. As I looked to find a place to punch at it and pull my arm free, I saw a small white in its eyes begin to grow larger, not dissimilar to how a cat's eye widens when about to kill its prey. Without thinking, I used what adrenaline I had to lift myself up, creatures still attached

and tearing at the skin and throw my body weight into one swing but collided meridoo with the doorframe. The searing pain was drowned out by my own screams and that of the creatures as it let go, and made a guttural noise as it tried to rebound. At that moment, Dedey reappeared. Jolly as ever, as he scooped up Meridu with total ease, and, with it still thrashing in his arms, gave it the lightest tap on its skull with an ungloved hand,

and let it fall limp. Ah, I see you've got acquainted with Meridu. Don't worry, he's mostly harmless most of the time. Rehabilitation has been difficult because of the baking content. I don't let him finish, with everything I have. I swing a fist into the side of his plague-doctor mask and shatter one of the circular frames in the process. I feel bone crunch under my knuckles, and his body falls with my fist, but he doesn't

go to the floor. I'm not here for one of your whimsical games, Dee Dee-D. They took Amelia. She figured out what I was doing, and now she's going to be- I stared down at my shoes, vision blurring, and my bitten arm growing weak. the anger inside me only rising with every moment of my own mounting failure. It's all your fault! I swung again, but this time he effortlessly sidesteps me and grabs my shoulder, pinching

the joint ever so slightly but in such a way that I cannot move or even feel anything. The door closes and he turns to walk behind me. You get the first one for free, Jasper. Your hurt and Medidu's damage to you is indeed my fault. I thought I could leave him unsupervised, but even he can sense when something is a target, when something sees him for what he is. He's an animal from the other side of sturgeon, you see. They don't like it when people see them for what they are.

I see his ungloved, emaciated hand take my damaged arm, but I don't feel it. But the rest? The reason he can see them, the reason Amelia has gone, that is all. On you. He twists it and digs his hand into the wound, pushing up against the joints and the muscles. For a moment I only see white and a ringing sound floods my ears, teeth clenching. But as soon as it comes, it goes.

My arm aches, but I feel mobile once again. Didi is leaning over his desk, book open and looking wary. I can see an eye poking through the shattered frames. It's young, but there's something old within the pupils. I'm sorry. You're right. I'm mad at myself, my own selfishness. I can't stand the idea that she's going to be gone. I wanted this to go on for a bit longer and I just... Shame washes over me and I walk over to take my seat forlorn. Please, help me get her back. Help me extend it for just a little longer. He surveys me for a while, breathing heavily.

You know that all things must come to an end eventually, right? This was never a permanent. He flips the pages to a list of clientele, and both mine and Amelia's names appear next to a list of complex ciphers that jump out on the page as if living, breathing, sentient creatures. She hasn't got long left, but if you are to extend it, it's going to cost you dearly, Jasper. I know. I'll lose my sanity if I stay any longer with this ability to see the unseen, but I'm prepared to do so, especially if it means I get her back.

if I get more time with her. She's worth everything to me. I was resolute, steadfast that I could handle more nightmares and threats. D.D. shook his head, and for the first time, I sensed pity. No, Jasper. This is the final extension. Should we get her back, it will cost you your soul. A life for a life. I will let her carry on, but at the end,

expense of your own well-being. This is the offer I extend to you. He didn't break his gaze. He'd done this before. It is the only offer. I'm sorry. Take some time to think it over. I looked out the window and simply observed for a moment.

I watched nature take place in the clearing. The sun hanging at its zenith as all manner of creatures proliferated beneath its majesty. Harvester ants take pieces of a decaying stick insect to bring back to their nest and feed their ravenous queen. Many of her brood infected with the parasitic wasp larvae that will eat its way out of her young before going off to repeat the cycle. Birds of all shapes and sizes flock to the many trees in Sturgeon City Park. I watch for a while as they congregate. The males flashing their vibrant plumage and the females twitching their heads, deciding if this is her life partner. I look out at the McGraw Memorial Park, children playing happily, parents gossiping about

their day-to-day issues and the elderly sitting by, watching the next generation flourish under the trees they planted. Life goes on. It will continue to go on after everyone on this earth is gone and a brand new generation, new and vibrant with no connections to the old guard inherit the land. This world will keep turning and spinning on its axis. will find ways to proceed and above all else, it'll step aside when the time comes. I breathed, a tear running down my face.

Dedi looked at me. Even beneath the mask, it wasn't tough to see his studious gaze. He looked as if he were trying to figure out a puzzle. With a swift turn on his heel, he clapped his hands together and grabbed the heavy book, sliding it under his arm. All right, it's settled. It looks like you've made your choice. As a gesture, I will act as blinders for your fears until we reach the Golgothan Bridge.

Can't have you being scared of every damn thing on the way and wasting time, can we? He patted me on the shoulder, that weight far beyond what it should be. Walking to his shelves, he hummed and grabbed some bottles, stuffing them into his coat before dashing out the door and straight from my car. It's funny what you notice as you're frantically trying to get somewhere. How much your legs shake, your knuckles whiten as you grip the steering wheel. The irritability rising to unparalleled levels, not because of other circumstances, but because you know you're late to something you should have always been early to.

But we can never plan for the unexpected. That's the nature of grief. I must have been breathing heavily, the sound of my teeth grinding as I sped up, turning down a long dirt road connecting Sturgeon's eastern markets to the Galgothan Bridge, a little trail known as the Myopic Road. Dee Dee's side and tapped the car's computer dashboard, scrolling through the playlist Amelia had left. Forever Honeymoon.

Do you mind if I? His hand hovered over the song selection, waiting for my approval. Shoulders hunched, and I nodded. It did us no good to sit in the suffocating silence as the road dipped and the trees began encircling the trail, thick black roots jutting out and retaking what humanity had carved out on the main road. He hit play, and I immediately knew what song he'd chosen and why. How did you?

I breathed, but he shook his head and held up a finger, pointing to the road ahead. In the darkness, something curled up on the ground, swaddled in a thick custom blanket and shivered. The closer I got, the easier the features were to make out. The space buns, bright hair, and petite frame. Amelia! I slammed the brakes, headlights still beaming at her body some thirty-frey. feet away, frantically unbuckling my seatbelt to dart over and save her, but Didi grabbed onto my arm

and I froze. Look. His voice was low, purposeful, without malice, but absolutely dripping in determination. I resisted for a moment until I saw the figure cloaked in flames emerge from the thicket, each step bringing with it small circles of flames that burst forth and extinguished. The flesh was melting away, dropping to the ground in large chunks with a little. a wet slopping sound, but the face still bore recognition to its original form. It was mine.

Terror gripped my stomach, as this malformed version of me loomed over Amelia, not a single ember touching her as it outstretched its arms and protected her, shrieking at the top of its lungs. She will not die. I will protect her. I will save her. At this, winged creatures descended from the tree branches, fat oversized ravens with sharpened claws and spiked beaks as they scratched and clawed at his body, desperate to reach her. With every defiant swat away, more of his skin fell, and his screams grew hoarse, falling to his knees and laying over Amelia, the beast encircling him. No, I won't accept it.

I felt sweat run down my brow as the birds took pieces of him away before flying up and back into the trees. Nothing left in their place but a stack of ashes. What did I just... I felt my eyes. hands shaking. Your denial. Keep driving.

Didi's words hung in the air as I put my foot down on the accelerator gently, and the car rolled down the hill, over the ash, and descended into further darkness. It was a couple of minutes before I spotted it, a hulking mass of arms pulling apart birds and smashing them against the trees. I could feel its rage from this distance and felt unseen eyes fixate upon me. Nobody will take her from me. It shrieked, pulling apart one hapless bird desperately trying to beat its wings and escape. The beak gripped firmly into one pulsating fist as another arm ripped it away, black blood

spilling over the creature, small slits with teeth opening up on the bicep to lap at the contents. Then, just like the first, it began bubbling into a pool of collective black blood, barely visible tooth-pick legs dropping in and dissolving at the mere touch. Still, regardless of the pain, it refused to stop thrashing, even as the last bicep tried desperately to smash the remaining birds. No, body! It gurgled, the form disappearing underneath the liquid bit with a final sizzle and the remaining birds flying back into the woods.

I wasn't—I'm not that angry. I protested, feeling disgust at what I witnessed and a hardened core of dread in my gut. But you were once. Come on. Dedy extended a finger towards the still descending pit, gradually becoming steeper before the darkness swallowed the rest. I obeyed, letting the car gently descend with my foot still easing off the brake pedal. My free leg bouncing and the mounting anxiety of time wasted was not lost on me.

I knew we couldn't do this forever. Look, Amelia's running out of time. Can't we do this some other time? I get that I need to be better. I need to recognize my problems with her illness. But there has to be a quicker way to do this. I was practically pleading, taking my eyes off the road to look at him and show him how much I meant it. Didi, you have to understand.

No, Jasper, it's you who needs to understand. We're not here to address just one problem. We're here because it is a part of the journey. There is no reaching Amelia without going through this place. If you don't understand yet, You are about to." I didn't understand what he meant, but seeing him brace the side of his car seat was indication enough.

I turned back in time to see someone flagging down the car, arms flailing wildly in the air, and a wide, crazed look in their eyes. They walked around to my window and frantically started screaming at me. Oh, thank God you came. Look, I don't have time to explain, but I need you to let me in. I've got to get out of this place. something super important I have to do, so... He immediately tread the door handle.

Without waiting for a response, eyes darting down just to look back up at me, confused. Come on, man. Let me in. I turned to Deity, already feeling my stomach turned to knots. He shook his head, and I mimicked it back. I can't. I have somewhere to be, and we can't deviate. I'm sorry.

Before I could finish, he slammed his head into the window with whole force. The sickening sound of bone. meeting glass as his blood freely poured from the bridge of his nose. Features twisted as he snarled against the glass. You're sorry? Dude, I cannot be late. I'll give you anything. Please. Please. He raised his head back and smashed again, saying please with every repeated, sickening smash. As he did, I saw his features shift and change until they softened in place. The flat nose became uplifted, uplifted, the eyes changed color, and the lips grew fuller, blood staining the teeth.

Amelia. I reached for the handle, but D.D. grabbed me. Bargaining. Another test. You need to drive, Jasper. How the window hadn't shattered yet was beyond me. The sickening crunches intermixing with the splattering of blood caking the glass. I couldn't fathom his hesitation.

We can bring her with us. She obviously got lost while finding a way back here and needs our help. Didi just stared at me, incredulous. What was I even saying? I watched this person's shift before my very eyes. I blinked, clarity overcoming me as I put the car into drive and sped off, clipping them ever so slightly as I did. We drove for another few minutes as the road evened out. The sky above almost totally blotted out by the towering trees. We descended for some time, and it seemed we'd hit the bottom.

There was a small patch of gravel to the side for us to park up. Didi, indicating to pull over. We sat in silence for a few minutes as the music played, and the realization of what I was witnessing came to focus. Depression is next, right? Indeed. Are you ready? Dedy seemed concerned, but detached, like he knew this was something I had to face.

I swallowed, felt sandpaper in my throat. I don't think that matters right now, Dedy. But if I need to face it to get out of here, to get to Nurgel and Amelia, Then that's what I'll do. It's never been about facing these trials, Jasper. It's about what comes after, what you are willing to accept. He pointed towards the center of the road. You must face what's coming, not just what is already here.

I didn't understand what he meant, but it was clear that there was no progress without doing as he instructed. I almost found myself missing the laxidaisical and whimsical persona he had before, But this was hardly the time for comical undertones. I did as instructed and walked with purpose to the center of this endless stretch of road, every foot forward evoking a fresh sense of guilt, anxiety, and depression. Left foot forward. You know that all this is finite. It has an end point.

Right foot forward. Eventually, we almost say goodbye. It is the natural part of the cycle of life. Left foot forward. She will die. That is a certainty. And one day. Right foot forward.

I looked at the expanse in front of me and felt a cold wind whip at my face, stinging and hardening the tears. I will be alone. Completely, utterly alone. I know. And I'm not ready. I breathed, feeling this cold breeze smash against my bare skin and envelop my flesh, the same black substance.

that had dissolved the anger beast, wrapping itself around every fiber of my being, crawling its way up my waist and digging into my stomach. The further it climbed, the more my misery grew, the more that fear deep inside me grew. Every anxiety-riddled thought and depressive cycle forced its way past the rational barrier of my brain and screamed louder than anything else I could muster. One day you have all these enjoyments, all these rituals that make you happy, and then One day, poof, they're gone. You're gone.

The formless voice hisses as it slithers around my chest. You will cease to exist. The world will keep spinning. Those who love you will grieve for a time. But then they will die too. Eventually all who know your name, your idiosyncrasies, your nuances. They will be gone. and you will be less than an echo.

This is the fate that awaits us all. The fate that awaits Amelia. I sank to my knees. Pain, racks, sobs I was unable to control, ripped through me, and I cast my head up to the sky as this thing took control of my body. My legs already growing numb from the cold. Is there any way to save her? To give her the life she deserves and the closure of knowing she'll be at peace?

I mumbled between cries. I just want her to be safe. I want her to be healthy, with or without me. Didi got out and leaned against the car, windows drawn down and the music playing. Even as this mass overtook my body, Nurkel is going to take her away, isn't he? I croaked, flashes of memories running through my mind, small moments of her beauty, her serenity, idiosyncrasies you learned to tune out that had long lost their novelty now coming to the surface. Yes, John.

There is nothing to be done about it, and fighting him will yield you nothing. You are no warrior or arbiter of fate. You are simply a man going through unmitigated heartbreak. Dedi leaned forward and reached out a hand. But you can get past it. You need only accept what is going to come to pass. I felt the shape slither up my neck, pulling at my windpipe, and the weight of my grief growing ever heavier on my shoulders.

I will never get another sunny day with her. Another night binging our favorite show or making inside jokes about things we'd done. I will never have a family with her. I felt the tears run down my face and cheeks grow hot, my voice beginning to fail me. No, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the time you still have left. Love is about sacrifice and trust. Whether you take my offer of a life for a life or not, someone must depart. That doesn't eliminate the love you have.

Not one bit. I grabbed his hand and pulled with everything I had, the black mass pulling at my skin and splitting it in places as it desperately tried to cling to me, scratching up my wrists and stomach as it steadily peeled away. I fell to the floor, my body stinging and a feeling of calm beginning to watch. I understand. By the journey's end, someone has to go. There was no bargaining with the king of the dead. I took a deep breath and surveyed the road ahead, now beginning to curve upwards and out of the forest. I nodded to Dedi, and we both got in the car. I nursed my

wounds and buckled in, selecting the playlist and queuing up a track. Wedding songs. Whatever it takes, Amelia. We came out of the clearing within fifteen minutes, a somber silent. permeating the car, knowing what had to come next. It was so similar to that first time we went to the hospital, knowing full well the news we'd receive when getting there, a moment of both dread and clarity mixed into one. Before long, the Grand Galgothan Bridge came into view, connecting central Sturgeon and the wharf to the nearby Mantis Bay. Nobody recalls when it was built. The scholars say it had been there when people first began settling in what would later be, Sturgeon, some 850 years ago, large obsidian pillars and thick rusted chains connecting the wooden boards.

Eventually, they'd be swapped out for tarmac, and safety nets would be placed on either side to prevent wayward drivers going over or anything in the river from coming up. Legends always persist that the bridge had an otherworldly aspect to it, that it was the bridge to the underworld when approached in the right circumstances. In the waning hours between dusk and dawn, A soul stuck between the realms could make the pilgrimage and offer themselves willingly to the underworld king and queen, making the transition easier, depending on their quality of character. As we drove down the wharf, the hours growing late and a thick fog rolling in, I began feeling one overwhelming emotion.

Clarity. Dedy, I have a question. If it's about my baking secrets, I'm afraid I'm sworn to the grave to keep them. He replied chuckling. Ask away. Jasper. What do you think dying is like? He considered my question, the slow crawl of the car against the setting sun and lavender sky

a perfect backdrop. I think, in all my years of watching the wicked, weird and wonderful pass through the gates of life and death, the death is as mundane as it is terrifying, as beautiful as it is visceral. Death is a chorus of your friends and family welcoming you home after a long sabbatical away, eager to share tales of their exploits and hear your own. Death is the most beautiful of reunions and the best surprise party, because nobody ever expects to have the light shut out on this world, only for them to be flicked back on so unceremoniously. Death is the safest place you ever had in life, magnified with all the love you kept along for the ride. It's a journey all undertake,

but none can report on. He points a finger to the sky as we round a corner and park up at the base of the bridge, some stars beginning to poke through the thin veneer of lavender and bring with them a beautiful cobalt blue, swirling colors of untold beauty twinkling gently against the skyline. That is death. It is beauty reaching back eons to let us know it was alive. It burned brightly and fiercely. It went out as it came in. With purpose.

I smiled as we got out, handing him the keys and instructing him on what to do when he heard the cue. Thank you, D.D., for everything. He held out a hand and shook mine, firm grip, and pulled me in for a tight hug. I strolled through the fog and did my best to ignore the whispers on the wind. Calling, screaming, and laughing in their mocking tones to scare me. I won't lie to you and say I feared nothing. I feared everything. But the notion of putting things right was strong enough to carry me through anything.

I'm here, Nergel. I want to make this right. I know I messed up. Please, let's talk about this. A low, authoritative voice boomed out from all directions, sounding close enough to touch and yet so far above me. Sturgeonites, always thinking they can find a workaround to the natural order of things. Well, not this time.

You wish to talk? Why should I converse with old Welpoo fights against my very order with such vitriol? Because I want to make a deal, to appease you and make this right by Amelia. Please, I held my hands up and dropped. to my knees. I'll do what needs to be done!" He made a grunting sound before the air grew hot and a wind whipped up some distance away. A well-dressed man with a shimmering bald head and black antler stood there.

He fiddled with his red tie and the blue suit glistened in the waning light. The air felt strange around him. He exuded such intense authority that I almost didn't dare rise to my feet until he extended a hand encouraging me to do so. Speak. What do you propose?" He eyed me up and down, as if considering my value. All the creatures I'd seen didn't compare to the sheer presence of this man.

I tried to extend Amelia's life because I was, am so terrified of losing her. I ignored her wishes and tried to get her proper medical help, but she was resigned to her fate. I did the most egregious thing to keep her alive for my own selfish reasons, suffering to keep her happy. At first I thought it was just an extra month, a gift from me to her, but seeing her that vibrant, full of life again, I just fell deeper into denial and refused to let go. I felt the sobs rising in my chest, but I bit down and carried on, refusing to lose my nerve.

Didi has made a proposition, her life for mine. She suffered because of my mistake, and I've come to terms with the end. I just think she's deserving of another chance to find someone who will love her best. He stares at me, black eyes shining, and hands behind his head as he calls behind him. Did you hear all that, miss? A familiar voice calls through the fog, and from the car, I can hear Dee Dee-D turning up the car stereo. I did. It was very sweet and decidedly on brand for him.

A shape comes through the fog, and I recognize the contours, the hair, the gleeful grin. Amelia. And what would you like to do? Do you wish to take his offer? She steps to Nurgel's side and pulls a mock-thinking face before crossing the distance and placing her hands in mind. It's very like Jasper to try and do things his own way, even at the expense of himself. But this is not his burden to bear. She caresses the side of my cheek, wiping away a tear.

Jasper, you can't atone for a mistake in death. And leaving me here alone isn't going to fix this. that. This happened to me, and it is with me, it shall stay. Amelia, I'm so sorry. I was just terrified of losing you. I thought maybe if I took the plunge, whatever was after would make the weight easier. I... I broke down as she began softly weeping, too, the smile never leaving her face, like she knew something I didn't. I know, honey, but part of this is knowing to let go.

It's not meant to be easy, something you can just figure out over a single revelation. You will go through many peaks and valleys of hurt. You will spend months feeling fine and feeling guilty as a result. You'll beat yourself up for never crying when you should. And then suddenly, you'll be in a store buying jerky and it'll hit you like a tidal wave. Because you'll want to tell me something. and I won't be there, and that's going to be the hardest part. I didn't know what to say.

What else could I say? I pulled her in for the tightest hug I'd ever given her, a hug that felt like it would kill me to break away from as she nestled her face into my chest. Can we have a moment to say goodbye? I looked to Nurgel, checking a pocket watch in his waistcoat. He sighed and nodded, turning on his heel and waving his hand as he disappeared into the fog. Remember this and be grateful, Jasper. We stayed there for a moment before I realized what I'd asked Dee Dee to do.

Taking a moment to wish circumstances were different, I leaned my head back. Hey, Didi, turn it up. Amelia leaned her head up, those beautiful eyes peering into mine and the enormity of our lost future deep within them. Tears welling up as she heard the familiar chords. Our first dance. my hand on her hip, and we softly moved as the song echoed along the bridge. You know we would have made an amazing old couple. I whispered into her ear. She giggled.

I know a couple in their 70s maintaining the stereotype of crazy old folks who screamed to get off their property. Preferably with the makeshift hunting rifle. You'd be still undertaking wacky hobbies. And I bet I'd still be boxing or skydiving long in. into my 80s. I spun her out and watched her body move with the motions, so graceful and like moving art. As she pulled back in, I kissed her, hands on her face, and with every bit of passion we'd

had the first time we met as teens. The day she said yes, and when I walked her down the aisle, D.D. says he thinks death is like the best surprise party ever, all your friends waiting eagerly to catch up with you after your long journey back home. I paused, hands shaking. I wonder how many stories I'll have to tell you when I get there. I'll be ready with a cup of tea and open arms. Maybe I'll have some of my own.

Who knows what else is waiting for me there? It's a whole new adventure when you think about it. I paused, considering the weight of my words. You'd have been an amazing, Mom. The absolute best. I'd have done anything for you. And you'll find a chance to do that again. One day.

She croaked, teary-eyed as we danced. You kidding? You're my one and only. I'll be the greatest hermit you've ever seen. I tried to force a smile, but she shook her head. No. You have to promise me you'll find someone one day. When you're ready, you have so much love to give Jasper. If you don't, I'm going to haunt you forever and make everything annoying. Spoons will go missing. Your wallet will be put on the top shelf. You name it. We laughed and came together once.

more, content in that moment as one soul. Laughter turned to tears, and we sobbed. Would that be so bad? I asked in a small voice. She shook her head and put her finger on my lips, a soft pleas from her before I nodded. I promise, Amelia. It's almost time, honey.

I'm so glad we got this time. I was worried there'd always be something left unsaid. I looked at her the same way I had done for so many years. The older she'd gotten, the more beautiful she'd become. All I could do was smile at how lucky I'd been. There's nothing left to say. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat, horrors and all. I kissed her forehead, savoring the moment as her hands wrapped over mine.

I'm so glad I chose you. I stopped searching so long ago and got to have the adventure we did. I'll be waiting for you on the next one. So don't be late, Kay. I love you, Jasper. With that, we slowly danced as the song reached its end and exchanged one final kiss. I felt her hand slipped through mine and within a few minutes she was gone. A great wishing sound filled my ears and the sound of great door shutting cut through the night.

I finished the dance and stood there. The fog began to clear as the other side of the bridge became visible. I felt my heart shatter all over again as I stared into space. Still hoping she would come back. I turned to see Dedy walking towards me, unclasping his plague mask. You know you could have never taken my deal, Jasper. Amelia and Nurgle knew that, of course. Why not?

I thought it was a serious offer. He got closer and removed the mask, letting it drop to the ground and looking at me. A beautiful mix of white face paint, the eyes enshrouded in black shadows, gorgeous bright patterns starting at the forehead, running across the cheeks and finishing at the base of the skull. It would be unbecoming of a member of death to mess with the order of things, wouldn't it? But a healthy nod in the right direction? I don't think anyone would mind.

He smiled, diamonds in his teeth, a wave of comfort shot over me. D.D. Death of disease. We all have our part to play. My sister, Lady Death, covers our warriors, but. my job involves looking after a different kind of fighter. He put a reassuring arm on my shoulder. That's why you helped, why you guided me through it? Dedi, I don't know what to say.

My eyes widened as I realized what was happening, who I was talking to. Amelia, is she? Amelia is safe. I promise. I can't tell you what comes next, but I know she's waiting for you, wherever it is. Come on. It's a long drive,

and I have some baking secrets to share with you. With that, we set off for the car and away from the bridge, away from Amelia, and into the unknown. A new month. It's a beautiful day. The air is cool, and there is life all around us. I look up at the night sky and see even more stars littering the canvas, but there's one in particular that stands out.

It shines right over me and radiates with its twinkling beauty, far surpassing that of its siblings. It's fierce, bright, and pink.