The Haunted Traveler Vol 1 Issue 2

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a sharp twig finger, letting it snail its way jerkily down
through the sticky remains of her mother’s mind.
‘You think this blood will save you?’ Her voice
was not the endless music of lovelorn summer days
but the fatal crack of ruthless winter. ‘You forget, my
love, my blood is mingled with yours. We are one, our
blood mixed, an echo forever calling one to the other.
Did you think it a gesture, a foolish notion?’
Seizing his hand she held it palm upwards revealing
the scar, white and indecent, then showed him
hers; an echo in red, the boldest scar on a body alphabetized
by scars.
‘An act of love reverberates through time. It
can never be taken back, even when the heart disowns
it, for God is love.’ She put her dried and distant eyes
closer to his. ‘And Death is God.’
She licked at his lips with a black swollen
tongue that scorched him with the memory of childhood
fears.
‘No need for words,’ she said, her voice cracking
in a desperate parody of affection, as a shadow
blotted out the merciless sun. ‘Our life together was
our farewell. To be dead one minute is to be dead
forever, everything else is mere repetition. You abandoned
me but now I will teach you the meaning of
absence my love.’
The final syllable droned on and on, hammering
at his mind in a blunt rage. He heard the sibilant
thud of many limbs snake up behind him. He closed
his eyes and Death devoured him whole.