Novels2Search
Being Undead
Chapter 17 - Revisiting Death

Chapter 17 - Revisiting Death

I awoke to the familar darkness of the hallway. The walls and floor the same grey stones, and the background wails and jubilations. The noise of the souls residing in the Underworld.

'I should ask Death about this place..'

Absentmindedly thinking such things, amongst other issues regarding my quest, I walk the hallway with far more speed than last time. Not checking each and every door, not looking at every random piece of furniture and art piece, but moving briskly forward at a speedy pace. With this, I arrived at the throne room door in record speed, with the only other record I know of being my last one.

The door, however, gives me the chills this time. Leave it to the Underworld to give you back the ability to feel dread with your body.

The door itself is the same, a feeling of permanency like the hallway. The difference, what gave me the chills, was the foreboding aura permeating through the thick door. It's an odd, ironic feeling. The fear that Death is coming is what scares most men. But in my position, it's the fear of Death waiting on me to come that's making me shiver.

With a gulp, I knock on the door, confidently without the will to back it up.

Awaiting for her to allow me to enter, I stood. And stood.

It was obvious she wasn't in a good mood, as the time I've spent waiting, compared to my first visit, is like a day to a month. Which it very well may be, since I haven't an idea on how time works in the Underworld, or if there even is a concept of time here.

I figure there is, considering Death's involvement with myself.

These mundane thoughts helped to relax myself from the overbearing aura coming through the door.

When the door finally opened, all that effort was for naught.

Death, for all intents and purposes, is neutral. Unbiased. Fair, as she does not hold anyone above another.

This permanent fixture of life, this being of unfathomable power, without any room for doubt, was mad at me.

As soon as I thought of fleeing, it was as though a beast lurked within my mind, and thoroughly mauled such a thought. It was as though it preyed on the thoughts prey would have.

Left with no other options, and literally no thoughts of fleeing, I entered the throne room. It's not all bad, hopefully it can be talked over, right? Right?

As soon as the avatar of Death, the beautiful and inviting woman, came into view I knew I fucked up. What I fucked up, I don't know. But I fucked it up. Real bad.

"M-my lady." I bowed towards her, doing whatever I could to appease her.

Death's face did not even budge from it's look of displeasure, her eyes piercing through me. Considering I was technically a soul, or something along those lines, she was literally staring into my soul. My thoughts to flee wriggled wildly in the beasts stomach.

After time passed at a speed akin to grass growing. In the desert. Death finally sighed, her look of displeasure, her aura of dread, all the things that kept my throat constricted and my thoughts in disarray, left with the air fueling her sigh.

Holding her head in her hands, the eyes that stared at me were of stark contrast to the ones before. Eyes filled with pity, and the resignation of a parent when they see their child doing something stupid.

"Do you know how a soul comes to the Underworld?" She questions suddenly, and I struggle to answer her after reeling from the mood shift.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"B-b-by dying, my lady." I still had not stopped bowing, not daring to make Death go further in either direction of emotion.

With a small smile while her eyes retained their pitiful gaze, she opened her mouth.

"That is one way. But did you come here by that method?"

"N-no my lady.."

With a soft, sad chuckle, she began to speak.

"That is one way, and the usual way. But you yourself came through another method, by trying to directly infuse your soul with the energy of death. I should have you know, before you think yourself having been a genius then, that this method was moronic, asinine, and plainly, stupid."

She emphasized each word, each utterance causing myself to struggle to breathe.

"The reason why? Simple. You can irrevocably damage your soul. The only reason your soul successfully melded is because of my influence, and that was after our discussion."

This revelation wasn't a shock, since I knew it as a possibility in the beginning. Still. It being just a possibility? As opposed to knowing it'll happen? Two different things.

"Still." Her demeanor slackens ever so slightly. "This allowed me to bring you to me. It's like this you idiot."

Her words feel mean enough to break my bones easier than a strongman could 

"The way you stumbled upon to enter the Underworld? That is through the same thing we just discussed. Damaging your soul. Think of it like an emergency plan. Your soul, in an act of self-preservation, will abandon its vessel. This is only when the damage is severe, which in your case, it was."

I listen to her words as I learn about souls that other people will never know.

"Due to the effect of the death energy you tried to infuse, I was able to bring you to me, instead of you going through the motions."

She stops speaking, and a silence lingers until I could bear it no longer, curiousity driving me to ask, "What does this have to do with anything?"

Shaking her head in disappointment, she lifts a finger pointing at me. "Put two and two together, and figure it out."

After a moment of contemplation, and an eureka moment, I finally understand.

"I damaged my soul again, didn't I?"

With one, short, clap, Death finally shows signs of her spirit perking up as a genuine smile erupts on her face.

"More akin to draining it nearly to death, but the same effect was achieved. It's because of that girl you resurrected. Your soul can't handle the cost of supply to keep her and you alive at the same time."

"But what about the other guy I raised? I had no issue keeping him and myself alive."

Her smile dampens, but still remains as she answers me.

"It's a matter of age. The older you are, the closer you are to me, and as a result, death energy. The cost of supplying an adolescent is more than that of a grown man. With the amount of death your soul produces, you can't handle that cost on top of your own. The reason why you haven't winked out of existence yet, and neither has she, is because of where you are right now." She added the last bit after seeing the questioning look forming on my face.

"The only option for you to do, is to cease supplying that girl with energy."

This ultimatum shocked me into a stupor. The decreed plan of action is akin to murdering Cera myself.

"Is there no other way? Surely Death knows?"

"Don't be an idiot, idiot. I know natural Death-related things, not how to make zombies more efficient. Just the fact you can raise the undead in the method that you did is a shock to me."

"So there's no chance of keeping Cera alive?" Tears of desperation began to form in my eyes. Seeing this, Death responded after a moment of time. Looks of deep thinking was obvious on her face.

"I retract what I said. It might not be the only option. As I stated, I don't know anything on raising the dead. Your method itself could be commonplace and I not know." A look of struggle crossed her face for a brief moment, before being replaced by a more determined one.

"You might be able to figure a way out yourself." Seeing the growing smile on my face, she quickly doused the rising hope.

"I said might, and even then we don't have all the time in the world. You have a time limit of 3 days. If you can't come up with anything by then, you must cease supplying the girl."

Nodding my head in approval, I swiftly settle down to meditate on the issue.

_________________

Death watched Grey settle down into a meditative pose.

The reason for her earlier apprehension on telling Grey about the possibility of success? She didn't want to have him crushed by his own failure should it happen. 

Death, however, is not one to be swayed by emotions. An ever present fixture of life, she upholds her status as unbiased and fair. To allow Grey hope, was so that he would not be ruined before the quest truly begins, the sense of guilt crushing him far more lethal than any blade. With giving him the goal of solving this situation, she hopes for him to achieve it.

'I even lied about their being a time limit so he'd work harder.'

And so the man thought for a solution, and Death was close by.