This had to be a joke, this had to be! She walked closer, she could taste the anxiety on her lips. She held her hands to her chest clenching the fabric between her fingers, was this really him?
Her hand shook as she reached for his face, feeling the cold skin against the pads of her fingers, his eyes pearlessence frozen in time staring lifelessly into the void. His half moon spectacles sitting neatly on the bridge of his nose cracked, and blood stained. Thick lines of blood dried in lines down his lips and throat. She lifted his shirt and she could see the wound that had led to his death.
On his shoulder a huge chunk of flesh was missing, and it looked like the meat had been torn brutally out of his shoulder. She turned around, her eyes wet with tears, she moved toward the living personification of Mort swiftly lifting a dagger from its sheath, she screamed slicing at this imposter's throat. “You killed him!” she screamed again, continuing to swing as he simply curled his body this way or that, effortlessly dodging the attacks.
“Lyn, I'm still me.” he said, the sadness oozing from his tone. “I'm still me!” He screamed, grabbing her hand. “My body might be dead, but thanks to whatever I have become, I'm still alive!” he pushed her up against the wall, and she struggled to escape his grip; but with his newly acquired body.. He was beyond strong.
“Remember when we first met? I was sitting at the fountain looking like a miserable sack of shit!” He continued to yell his words, “Then you came up to me with the brightest smile on your face.” His voice fell into a sad tone, as small beads of red slowly dripped from the corner of each of his eyes. “One that could clear the darkness from any room.” His voice shook, quivering with the anxiety, and love he held for her.
“You said ‘Hey mister, you look really strong, want to form a party with us?’” He shook his head, causing the red drops to fly dry on his cheeks. “ and I said Yes!” He breathed a heavy shaking breath and continued “I never said why, but it was because you looked like a star, saving me from the pit of my despair.” He let go of her hands, her blade pressing against his throat. He closed his eyes, hands moving far away from her. He pressed harder into the hand holding the blade causing thin red lines of blood to ooze from his neck.
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“It's still me. It's always been me.” He said finally, he wished he could cry, but he could not. The voices of the towns folk filled the air as each one wailed with the sorrow of their hive mind. He slowly reached into his pocket, pulling a silver cat out. “This.” He said showing it to her, it curled into his palm purring while it slept dormant. The black smith spoke at the same time as him. “What we are now.” he hoped she would believe him, he was desperate.
He needed her more than she understood, he was lost in the storm of emotions, plaguing his being. A monster with the mind of a human.
“How..” But, that was not exactly what she wanted to know – she already knew how he had become like this. She dropped the knife as tears streamed down her face. She rubbed her eyes as the tears would not stop. “So you did not escape the monsters back then?” She cried harder, trying to stop the flow of her tears, her fingers desperately touching her face, like the simple act could stop her from continuing to cry.
His lip quivered, the pain on her face made him regret telling her the truth. – but if he did not, what would happen in the future? If she ever found out? It had to be done; even if it led to this body's death. “No, but that creature made a fatal mistake, it thought it had the superior mind, and I slowly took over. It never puts in any safety measures to prevent something like this. But I have – I will always be me.” The voice of dozens of town folk all spoke one after another. “I am Mort.”
Staring into her eyes with his iridescent red eyes. “I love you Lyn.”