Cosmic Chaos

I dab my pen in the ink well of blood.

It drips and sizzles on the parchment paper.

A body lays beneath my feet as I write.

The bloody, blue and black body of someone's wife.

Blood drools from her mouth, and it makes a puddle on the floor.

...I once had a wife.

I shall have her again.

The faraway, still memories of my matrimony and bliss enter my disheveled mind.

It keeps me in the present, aware of my purpose.

If I don't regain it, I will go insane.

She was a moment of peace in the cosmic chaos of life. She is clarity.

I write in my victim's blood to achieve something considered impossible.

'I have taken up your deal, the one you've visited upon me in those demented dreams. I have done the deed. I have traded this poor soul for my lovely Cara. Now release her, Hades.'

I see a response; it's as if the words appear on their own. They are in blood as well.

'Your penance is not done. You must become my servant and guide misguided souls to the ferryman. Before you ask why, they escape him because he must stay at the river; they run astray, far away from the path. They run amok.'

My response is swift

'That is not our deal. You said I must find a soul to replace Cara's spot in the Underworld. I have. I have killed a woman, evidenced by this correspondence written with blood, as you've instructed.'

I wait for a blood-soaked reply. The words come slowly, one by one. They stab me with dread.

'I lied to you. I needed you to kill to stain your soul; be willing to do anything to save her so that you can become my Grim Reaper, my servant. Cara will live if you become my Reaper, or Cara can die and you will be haunted by the voices, the ghostly images of the woman you murdered on a daily basis. It is not pleasant. It is like a Wraith, stalking you in all hours of the day.'

A grisly choice.

This is what I get for trusting Death, a big heavy foreboding mass lacking empathy.

...A life without Cara, but she would live on.

I commit to memory the color in her cheeks, the excitement in her voice and eyes, and the decision is made.

I realize my mistake. I realize that I was tricked. I realize that no matter what I did, I was never going to see her again, but at least she can live on, bringing her brand of peace to the world. Her pocket of calm and reassurance.

'I accept.'

I hear a splash, and then I see it.

A hand, coming from the puddle of blood on the floor.

It is grey and chafed.

It reaches for me, grabs me; I fall through the blood.

I am covered in the blood before I stand at the entrance of the Underworld. And I feel it, sense it, know it even; Cara is in the land of the living, a soul yet to be claimed.