Elaine admired the twelve daubs of paint that lined her collarbone.

Today would be the day she received her thirteenth, right above her pounding heart. She had tried to count the beats to slow their time, but to no avail. Her heart wouldn’t stop sprinting.

“Never forget Elaine, you are precious to me.”

A gloved hand cupped her cheek. The smell of chlorine tickled her nose, a familiar friend. Just like Michael. She had never seen his face, even though she had known him since she was small.

“Think of this as my face.”

Michael had tilted his head and pointed to the inky featureless dome that obscured his features.

“You don’t have to worry, I’m always smiling when I’m with you.”

Elaine had never been able to confirm the truth of what he said, but she was sure he was smiling now. He had to be.

“Just keep your eyes on me, Elaine. Don’t worry about anything else.”

She stared into the endless pool of black, comforting and warm.

“You can tell I’m smiling, right?”

The machine behind Michael whirred to life, spilling a lurid green across the room. It seeped into every corner of her vision, except for Michael’s face. That resolute darkness she could rely on.

“I don’t have to worry,” she said.

“I’m always smiling when I’m with you.”

They said in unison.

The light was blinding.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

She felt it sear into her chest, and ripple through her veins. A greedy and ever-gathering wave swept through her, it was beyond pain. She had thought she felt this before, twelve times in-fact, but this was something else. It was closer to rapture, an agony that could only be called divine in its providence.

A suffering bound with purpose and strung by fate.

She wondered if she was crying. Was Michael still smiling? It seemed so distant from the malignant light that embraced her brain. It cradled each fold, nuzzling against the seams to best pour itself into the cracks. Soon finding no more purchase, it coalesced at the top of her skull.

It built and built till Elaine saw her head crack like an egg. A vision, something she was so convinced would happen. She laughed. Wouldn’t that be a funny sight, if her face split right down the middle and the light poured out.

She’d look like a lamp.

Just as her mind was all pressure, full to bursting, it stopped almost as suddenly as it began.

The light lost its sear, trickling down through her body into somewhere, nowhere, anywhere. It pulled her along with it, along a winding path. She felt herself bend and twist and spiral.

“Where you’re going Elaine, I can’t go with you.”

Why was she hearing those words now?

“You’re special, because you see it.”

Where was he? She thought he was right beside her.

“Because you can see the light.”

A screen flashed, splitting the black of her vision. 

Elaine.

18 years of age.

Anointed - Morningstar: You can see the light.