Pain.
That's all Rory felt as he let out an agonizing groan.
He couldn't think straight. His entire body felt as if it had been doused in gasoline then dropped into a churning pit of lava all while being crushed to pieces. The emotional pain he felt while still alive was but a mere spark compared to the exhausting pain he was forced to feel now.
The worst of the pain was at his neck. It didn’t matter what he did, there was no escaping its eternal grasp.
***
Rory wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the pain began. Shit, he could hardly remember his own name let alone what he had been doing before his world was centered around torture.
However, when the pain came to a complete standstill, Rory was more than fully aware of the change. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips. His entire body felt like shit and his mouth felt full of ash.
He wasn’t prepared for the pain to come back.
“Fuuuck,” Rory groaned as he rolled onto his side. He couldn’t quite place where he was. “What the fuck happened to me?”
“That’s what I would like to know,” came a voice like ice.
Rory felt his insides churn. Whether or not it was in fear, he couldn’t tell. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” the voice was harsh and cold. “I had everything planned, but all that has been destroyed thanks to my brother.”
Rory opened his mouth to speak but what came out instead was a series of bone rattling coughs. When Rory could breathe again, he rested his cheek against whatever it was he was laying on. “I feel like shit and not the good kind.”
“Is there ever a good kind?” A smirk found its way into that icy cold voice.
“Fuck off.” Rory spat. He was not in the mood to converse with anyone.
“Things would be much easier if you accepted your death, Rory.” The harsh voice sighed. “It isn’t every day a mortal soul moves on to eternity.”
Letting out another groan, Rory forced himself to roll onto his back. His chest heaved for air while sweat poured down his entire body. “Can you please just make it stop?” Tears cascaded down his face.
The voice was quiet for a moment, contemplation thick in the air. “I haven’t finished the process of marking you. I’ve yet to determine if I want to be bound to you for eternity.”
Burning rage filled Rory as he struggled to open his eyes. He only succeeded in producing more tears and straining his body further. “What the FUCK do you mean?” A wretched sob tore its way out of him.
“Do you want to live, Rory?” The voice was suddenly tender and soft, as light as a feather.
Rory felt more tears escape while his body desperately tried to gather more air. He just wanted the pain and suffering to end. All the physical pain—all the emotional pain—it was crushing him...destroying him.
“I want the pain to stop.” Rory gasped, his chest heaving painful sobs.
“You didn’t answer my question.” The voice was still soft, yet not as tender as before.
Rory’s body shook as sobs overtook his body. He could barely breathe. He felt a whisper of words press against his memory. He remembered at some point wanting to live—to make something of himself—to be something.
A painful, “yes,” escaped Rory’s parched lips. Whether or not he truly believed it in that moment was entirely questionable, but the fact he could even muster up the courage to speak more than made up for anything in between.
“Then let me bestow upon you the true kiss of Death.” The voice was no more than a fleeting whisper against the wind.
Rory felt an abrupt, icy touch to his overheated lips. It was nothing more than a mere brush of ice cold lips to his fiery ones but that did more than enough to halt all the pain—to bring back all the memories—to bound them eternally together.
To set Rory free.
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