... 10. Breathe Again "Strange, isn't it?" The woman said, giving him a crooked smile. It was cold and empty, nearly mirthless. "Breathing is one of those things you think you'll never forget how to do." "Really?" she asked. She flicked the ash from the cigarette, sending the tendrils of smoke into an angry knot. "Nothing to say? Three years, all that's happened, and all you want to do is start frying your lungs again?" She took a long draw from the cigarette, almost mockingly. "Well." With her free hand she dug into the red purse on her arm. "I gave you your second chance. If you want to use it to kill yourself again, be my guest." Her hand emerged, clutching a pack of Marlboros, which she tossed to him. He fumbled, hands feeling like they were encased in lead, and with some effort caught the cardboard carton before it hit the ground. He felt... dazed. Uncoordinated. How did..."Of course, I'll trust you not to die of lung cancer until AFTER you've fulfilled your half of the bargain." "D...damn...." His voice sounded odd, as though he hadn't spoken in days, and the word felt foreign in his mouth. Dry. Dead. He raised a hand to his throat. "Wh..." "It never fails. They always sound hungover," she said, apparently to herself. She pulled the carton of cigarettes from his hand. "On second thought, let's not burn out what few vocal cords you have left just yet, huh?" "Oh, my," she said. "You don't even remember, do you?" She paused to look him up and down, taking another drag from her cigarette as she did so. "Rem... Remember? Who are you?" he managed to croak, forcing the words out as though the process of speaking was alien to him. "What is... Where..?" "Forgetting the conditions of the bargain does not release you from the conditions of the bargain," she said matter-of-factly. "You work for me now, Eddie, and you shall continue to do so until such time I feel that I've been adequately compensated for pulling your sorry ass out of the grave." Eddie? A spark of memory burst through the fog of confusion in his brain. Eddie. That was his name. Eddie. Pop! Pop! Pop! , and flashes of light from the darkness of the back seat. There was screaming, and he remembered falling backwards as pain shot through his chest. Shot. He was shot. "Take your time, buddy. I've waited three years for this day, I can wait a few more minutes for you to figure out how to talk again." He was momentarily pulled from his memories by the sound of her voice. This woman, with her smirk and her cigarettes and her heartless voice... She was there. She was there when he..."I don't want to die," he remembered saying, over and over, as he lay there on the pavement and people rushed around him. A woman appeared in his field of vision, dressed in bright electric blue and smirking behind a pair of cats-eye sunglasses. Sunglasses. It was seven in the evening and she was wearing sunglasses. The neon of the city reflected in the black panes of glass where her eyes should have been. "I don't want to die," he told her, and she knelt by his side. Her gloved hand wrapped around his own, and she smiled. He saw himself in the reflection of her glasses, weak and frightened and bleeding out on the pavement. "Please... I don't want to die. I'll do anything. I don't want to die." "Anything, you say?" She echoed, looking amused. He clung to her hand as though it was all that was keeping him from slipping into that endless night. And perhaps it was."I died," Eddie realized, horror growing within him. He stumbled backwards, staring in new-found terror at the woman in front of him. "I died back there on the pavement, didn't I?" "So you do remember! Good!" Eddie swatted her hand away, still feeling uncoordinated as a drunkard."What did you do to me?!" he demanded. "What the hell are you?!" "Oh Eddie," she sighed, brushing a curl of brown hair from her face. "This is the thanks I get for granting your final wish?" She dropped the cigarette butt onto the ground, grinding it into the dirt with the toe of her high-heeled shoe. Eddie backed away, trying to run, trying to get away, but finding himself unable to leave. It was like his legs refused to obey him once he got a certain distance away from the strange woman. "You can call me your guardian angel," the woman said smugly, watching Eddie struggle. "Or maybe you'd prefer to call me your new employer. I don't mind. Names aren't really important." Eddie sunk to his knees. He couldn't get away. He had nowhere to go, even if he could. Three years? Had he really been dead for three years? "Come on," she said. "We have work to do." Eddie stood, looking out into the fog around them. He inhaled deeply, his lungs remembering how to do their job after the three-year vacation. His first breath as a new man.
Last edited by Pseudonymous; Mar 22nd, 2021 at 06:24 PM .
Feb 8th, 2015, 02:33 PM
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