AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The Abyss still whispers, but its voice is fainter now, drowned out by the strength of Nyxion’s love and determination. And Eclipse’s shield.
I step back from the edge, my grip on his hand tightening as I make my choice.
I choose us,I profess first to Eclipse and the others.
“I chooseyou,” I say to Nyxion, my voice and resolve growing stronger with each word. “You and Morpheus and Hecate…”—the two have finally arrived after I’ve surrender to Nyxion and the rebirth of our relationship.
I turn my fucking back on the Abyss.
And proclaim, “I choose to fight, to let the pain in, to bleed, and face my demons.”
Nyxion’s eyes shine with pride and relief.And I will be by your side. You may break my bones,”—oh gods, with a violent yank, he rips out his rib cage. He tears it apart. Each bone snaps with an echoing crack, fracturing something deep inside me. He snaps the strings of his heart and offers the still-beating organ to me—, “and take my heart.
The Abyss roars in a screaming silence, but I no longer hear its call.
Horror and fascination overcome me at the fraying, torn strings of sinew and muscle around the beating organ.
Morpheus and Hecate don’t move, suspended in the awe of this moment as I am.
My breath seizes, my emotions a storm of confusion from my conflicting feelings for him, anger from how he used me—but ultimately something deeper, something more tender. And atoning.
I hesitate before reaching out with trembling fingers to take his heart. The weight of it is both physical and symbolic, its warmth seeping into my skin, the blood trickling down my wrist in crimson rivulets.
I stare down at him, almost not fathoming how I hold his heart in my hands—feeling its rhythmic pulse, the life force of the one who has caused me so much pain—and yet so much vulnerability and awakening. I remember the night I pushed those bone needles from my skin—how freeing it was. Like I was shedding my vulnerabilities, surrendering, letting go. Like I shed all my mental blocks so I could do more than play with the darkness.
Instead, I showed it my teeth.
Then, I cracked the animalistic mask. Oh, god, how many times I’d felt like a fucking animal. No better than the monster who birthed me. I turn away and purse my lips, remembering the night I cracked the skull.
But Nyxion—oh, Nyxion!—he gave me the ability to face my darkest fears, expel them, and crack the faux mask I felt had sealed over my fucking face! Then, the night on the burial ground with the dead rising.
Every—goddamn—grave—my—father—forced—me—to—dig!
The many dozens of corpses I could never memorize—whom I let fade into the weight of each grave. How many times I wished I could be buried alive with them.
Nyxion knew my subconscious fears. As hard as I tried to fight him, fightthem, he allowed me to find peace with them and overcome them. I grew bones and skin into countless trees, turning the macabre of those graves into something beautiful!
The Spirit Woods of skin and bones.
Maybe they are not visceral here when I dream-weaved them into being. But I’d like to think they can be turned upside down…and made real. Through Death and Destruction if need be.
Some would call Nyxion a monster.
But not all monsters are evil.
And perhaps the evil monsters may…redeem themselves.
So, I turn to stand before him in raw vulnerability, knowing the power I hold, the ability to crush his heart between my fingers. I could exact my revenge and reshape him entirely.
But as I gaze into that heart and find the vision of that first moment when I crashed into him, the moment I followed him, the time I cracked the mask, and fell for him—that time with the corpses…everything!—I know now it’s not vengeance that I seek.
Strength does not come from breaking him but from healing, from forgiveness.
With tender determination, I step closer, my gaze not faltering. Taking a deep breath, I place his heart back into the cavity of his chest, feeling the warmth and life return to its rightful place. We form an eternal bond born of this moment.
My hands move with unconditional purpose, weaving new strings like delicate stitches, binding his heart until it’s as strong as the nightmares he wove on my behalf. I mold a new rib cage, the bones forming a protective barrier once again, stronger and more resilient than ever.
As I work, hot tears stream down my face, each drop a testament to this emotional depth. I don’t need to punish him to find my strength. I don’t need his heart to fuel my power. It’s inborn. And empowered through the most monstrous and horror of darkness.
