As I Lay Dying

by Kim Colley

Copyright (c) 1998

 

Forever Knight and its characters are the property of James

Parriott, et al., and the suits at Columbia & Sony/TriStar. No

copyright infringement is intended. 

 


So, you want to know about the night I was brought across. Don't try to deny

it, I can see it in your eyes. There, hidden behind the hurt and betrayal and --

Is it? Jealousy? Never fear. I'll tell you all. 

 

I was confused. I was trying so hard to make my mind work, to put together

the picture of who I was, where I was, what had happened, but try as I might,

the lobes of my brain that were supposed to work together, would not. They

seemed as sluggish and tired as my body, which felt at once heavy and

disconnected from me. You know what I mean. The me that is me above and

beyond all else, the body, the mind. So, I know now there is something -- I

suppose you would call it a soul -- that we all have. Even us, even now. 

 

I closed my eyes, or perhaps they were already closed, giving up the struggle

to reason. The night, the building, its inhabitants seemed to settle around me

like a warm but not entirely comfortable blanket. I knew I should struggle

against that blanket, but it seemed easier to let it lay where it was, slowly

suffocating me. Its wool, scratching my skin, was my family and friends,

calling to me, but they were becoming easier to ignore. Easier just to turn my

back on them all, and give up. 

 

Then something changed. Someone pulled the blanket away. I could feel his

presence over me. I opened my eyes, for real this time. It was dark in the

room. The cold purple of winter's twilight glowed through the window,

faintly outlining the tall form standing beside me. He didn't speak. I couldn't

see his face. Yet, I knew who he was. As I'm sure you would have. 

 

I knew his purpose as well. 

 

Placing one hand on either side of my head, he leaned over me in the

gloaming. His body hovered over mine, but emitted no warmth, nor did his

lips as he whispered the question in my ear. 

 

"Do you want to live?" 

 

Spoken so softly, like a feather across my face. Like a lover's softest caress.

With his left arm beneath my shoulders, his right around my waist in a tender

embrace, he lifted me close. 

 

I whispered my answer in his ear. 

 

His lips trailed down my jawline to the soft hollow of my neck, cool like

silk, and I arched my back into his possession. His cool incisors sank into

my flesh, and I felt myself floating into the night, clasped within his arms,

into the cool midwinter sky of indigo velvet, sparkling with diamonds. I

drifted higher and higher with him, filled with peaceful happiness at the

secure haven I had found there. 

 

Softly, he said, "No farther." 

 

I felt a warmth against my lips, rich, liquid, pulsating, and I drank. I drank,

and my mind and body were suddenly alive again, filled with light,

knowledge, wisdom. Filled with him. I took him inside me, and reveled in

his taste, the flavor of this man who had seen and done such marvelous

things. My head swam with desire for him, my breasts -- I could feel my

breasts straining against the thin gown, my nipples suddenly hard. I had

forgotten I had such things, that my body could feel this way. I had forgotten

how wonderful life was. 

 

I never will again. 

 

Yes, I accepted him, and gladly. And you can sit there, angry, shocked,

bewildered by my choice. I who took two bullets for you, and whom you

wouldn't deign to save. 

 

But is that all there is to it? Your noble sense of shame? No. I think you're

jealous. Not of him, of me. Jealous because he gave you Natalie, and let you

go. It's too late now to change your mind, if that's what you're thinking. You

made your choice, I made mine. 

 

Goodbye, partner. 

 



Finis. 

 

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