# Deathtouch Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Cajoling Whispers
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Time passed in a hazy, bleeding blur, my eyes feeding me nothing more decipherable than shades of grey oblivion and crimson agony. Every now and again I’d feel like I’d caught sight of some shape shifting in the mist, but every time I managed to muster myself to look around, it was long gone.
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Pain ruled my every waking moment from its throne of thorns. Everything hurt, everywhere, blotting out anything else I might have been able to focus on. Waves of pain crashed over me in a steady rhythm, only ever receding just enough to allow me to properly feel it when it came back.
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Desperately I found myself hoping against hope for something that would stop the pain, but it didn’t come. I had no recourse but to lie there and suffer – wishing I could do something as simple as scream, just as the spectre had predicted. Nothing changed. Nothing bar the pain, shifting and squirming and twisting every part of my body it could reach.
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It felt as though every bone in my body was broken. Nothing was in its right place, nothing was working right. Adrift in pain, unaware of where I was or what was happening, the only conscious thought I managed to hang onto was the simple and staunch wish to live. If the doppelganger had been right, then that alone could carry me through this and back to my family. I had to hope that if I just held on, someone would come and help me.
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I hoped they already were. I honestly didn’t know how long this would be bearable for.
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There was no measure of time to tell me how long I’d endured. Without anything that might so much as give me a clue, it might have been weeks or months before something really changed – but it did change at last.
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From nowhere, from nothing, the fake Fang was steadily walking toward me. It seemed preoccupied, as though there were anything actually interesting to see in my nondescript surroundings. As its eyes flicked around, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something actually there I should have been interested in.
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Finally its eyes settled on me, and immediately that cold smile lit up its face again. “Nice place, hey? Guess the view’s a bit wasted on you, though.”
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“I can’t see,” I rasped. My throat felt bone dry, cracked like old porcelain. “Where am I?”
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“Hospital,” It smirked, casually ruffling its wings as it gazed lazily around. “They called the ambulance pretty quick, lucky you. Having fun so far?”
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“How long has it been?” I managed to wheeze out, struggling to keep hold of my thoughts as I grappled with a fresh wave of pain.
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Just as before, its grin grew even wider, and a dread feeling settled in my stomach. “Well. I want to preface this by saying that I know the battle’s been long and hard, okay? I know you’ve been struggling, but you’ll be pleased to know that you’ve made it a whole – three hours.”
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Three... hours? There was no way. It had to have been longer. There was simply no way that was all it had been. It felt like a weight had fallen down upon me, making me sink down further into... whatever it was I was laying on. A hospital bed, I guessed.
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For a brief moment, I think I was actually considering the creature’s insidious offer. Finally I recognized exactly the scale of the shit I was in. Weeks, maybe months of this... and I hadn’t even made it a day yet.
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A rest already sounded tempting.
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The monochrome phantom seemed to take happy stock of my consternation, throwing its arms wide as it beamed a wicked grin down at me. “That’s right! You’re just barely getting started! I don’t know if you can feel it properly, but they’re still working you over in the emergency surgery room. Not sure if they bothered to sedate you, since you were already unconscious and all. Wasn’t actually watching. Hey, here’s a thought, you should ask them to spot some tylenol or something! That might help, right?”
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“You’re not funny.” I seethed. I would have been grinding my teeth if I wasn’t sure that would hurt even more.
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“Well, fuck you too then, buddy.” It said with an aloof shrug. “Anyway, yeah, three hours. Or at least it will be in a few minutes.”
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“I want to go home.” The whispered words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. This was going to be absolute hell.
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“I don’t doubt it. You’ve got a long wait before then, though,” It said. For a moment it almost sounded sympathetic, but it promptly dispelled that illusion with another mocking laugh. “If you want, though, I can take you to a new home right now. Someplace nice and quiet... and painless. Would you like that?”
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“No. I mean my home,” I growled. “With my family. I want to go back.”
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The thing shrugged, leaning against some murky shape I couldn’t make out. The wall probably. “Well, I can’t help you with that. Getting back there, that’s something you gotta do for yourself.”
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I nodded firmly, more to myself than anyone else. It hurt to even make that much motion. “Then I will. It’ll be worth it to see them again. I can’t just let go.”
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For a moment it regarded me intently, staring me down brazenly as though I were merely property it owned. After a moment it looked away again with a satisfied nod, folding its arms as it leaned back again.
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“Thought you might say that. Good on you,” It said approvingly. “Well, that means we get to spend more time together. You’ve got a good few weeks of my company to look forward to at the very least.”
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That thought, more than anything else, irked me. I was quickly getting to the point where I hated this thing that wore Fang’s face. It wasn’t her. It was nothing like her. It had her face, her body, even her mannerisms – the way it cleaned beneath its claws was so uncannily Fang-like – but it was just all wrong.
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It wasn’t her. It shouldn’t have been allowed to pretend it was. Somehow, it irritated me way more than it should have. The real Fang – my wife, the love of my life – was beautiful in a way that lit up everything around her. This creature was just a darkening presence in comparison, something that made the world a little less bright.
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To think the sight of this miserable thing might be my last memory. It wasn’t even paying attention anymore, just casually inspecting its clawed fingernails – and somehow that only made it more loathsome.
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“Why are you doing this?” I asked it for the second time. My voice cracked under the strain of my seething.
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“Doing what?” It asked idly, looking back up from its nails.
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“All this shit. Trying to get me to... to give up.” I snapped at it as best I could. “Trying to get me to give up and die.”
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“I’m not trying to get you to do shit.” It shrugged, returning its gaze back to its hands and resuming its cleaning. “I’m offering you an out, every time you cry out for it.”
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“Well, I don’t want it! I’m not crying out for anything! Now go away,” I demanded. This thing had some gall. It was irking me more and more by the second. I did not need to deal with this shit on top of the pain I was going through.
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Its taunting was only making the pounding in my head worse, only magnifying the anguish that seemed to come from every corner of my body at once, threatening to rip me apart at the seams if it could.
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I just needed it to go away. I’d be fine if it just left me alone.
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“Sure, if you say so,” It quirked one eyebrow as it gave a mocking, cruel laugh. “But next time you’re perched on the precipice of oblivion, next time your blood-soaked body sings out how bad it wants something, anything that might ease the pain... I’ll be there to answer. And believe me, there’ll be a next time.”
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“No. I don’t want it! Please, I don’t –” I insisted, voice failing me for a minute. I couldn’t stand that kind of temptation. I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold out as long as I had to. It already hurt. “I don’t want it. I have to stay here. My life’s just barely starting. My family still needs me. Please,”
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Its cold eyes flicked back to me, an expression that looked vaguely like actual concern gracing its features for the first time I’d seen. For a moment, it was silent, leaving me to await its response with nothing but the stabbing pains to focus on in the interim.
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“... This is my job, buddy,” Finally it deigned to speak, its voice suddenly toneless. “For those lucky few just teetering on the edge, those few who’ve got a choice to make about it – to live or die – I’m meant to be here. Like I said before, it’s my job to make sure the choice is offered.”
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“I don’t want to die,” I whispered.
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“Nobody ever does.” It sighed. “Just saying that won’t be enough, though. Not this time. You want to live? You prove it.”
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“How?”
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“Don’t give in.” It glared at me, its eyes suddenly sharp. “Don’t die. Don’t give up. Prove you want to live by continuing to live. Sometimes things are that simple, you should know that.”
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“You say that like it’s so easy,” Dearly I wished I could keep the weakness out of my voice. I must have been delirious or something. I wanted to be more composed with this fucking thing, but I couldn’t stop the pitiable words coming out. “This shit is –”
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“Awful? Terrible? Unbearable? I get it, don’t worry. Heard every word people use for it before. Would it help if I told you something you wanted to hear?” It asked perfectly conversationally, a tiny little glint shining in its eyes. “Your wife’s just outside the operating theatre right now, praying under her breath you’re going to be okay. She’s pacing up and down. Hands on her head more often than not. Grabbing her hair. I think she might be a bit stressed out.”
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It felt like everything stopped for a brief moment. Even the aches left my body as I focused utterly on the phantasm before me, struggling to run its words through my hazy mind.
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“She’s just outside...?” I murmured. I couldn’t really see anything right now, but I wanted nothing more than to just see her.
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“Yep.” It returned its attention to its claws, looking away with apparent disinterest.
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Even if I had absolutely nothing else, she was still there for me, hoping for me to come back. A spike of agony rippled through my body, coursing along my bones, vying for my attention. I had to struggle to turn my thoughts away from it, back towards Fang.
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That was what this pain was. An obstacle that I had to overcome to get back to my life. Fang was waiting for me. My family was waiting for me on tenterhooks, unable to do anything to help me. My life was in the doctors’ hands, if my psychopomp was correct.
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But not just theirs – my own hands as well. I would have to muster myself to live long enough for them to do their work. I would have to steel myself and ignore the pain as best I could, as long as I could. For as far as I’d come, I had to try with everything I had.
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I wanted to live. I would just have to keep telling myself that, and pray I didn’t reach the point where I couldn’t anymore. Denial could carry me a long way, could it? I didn’t know. But I hoped to hell that it could. If I gave up – no matter how bad it got – I’d be letting her down. I’d be letting everyone down.
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“... What about Amber?” I asked. “Is she...?”
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“No. Grampa Ripley came and took her home with him, so she wouldn’t have to see you like this. He’s nervous as well, for the record. Hiding it a bit better than little old Lucy is, though.” It snickered. “Anyway, I think it was the right call. You do look a little fucked up. A little mangled.”
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“It probably was,” I whispered. Now that I thought about it, it was probably for the better that I couldn’t see. God knows I wouldn’t want to look at the state I had to be in right now.
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“Like you’ve been run over, if you can believe that,” It laughed, seeming to grow more excited as I grew more discomfited. “Red and pink and broken all over. Things twisted the wrong way. Like you’ve been put through a wringer. Or a pulverizer. Ohhh, no no, wait, one of those big old trash compa –”
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“I get it, thanks.” I snapped.
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“Pfft, killjoy. Just as I was getting into my stride.” It shrugged and settled back against the wall again.
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“Why do you have to be such a bitch about all this?” It might have been presumptuous to admonish what I was pretty sure was Death itself, but holy shit was this thing annoying. “I thought the Grim Reaper was meant to be all gentle and solemn about his job.”
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“Hah! Not me, pal,” It crowed. “Trust me, if you were pulling this shift, you’d look for entertainment where you could find it as well.”
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“So is someone making you do this?” I asked.
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“Yeah, you.” It rolled its amber eyes. “Are you retarded or something?”
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“I didn’t ask you to do anything. I’m not getting you to do shit,” Somehow I had the presence of mind to snipe back with its own words.
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“Ohhh, we got a funny fucker here, huh?” It growled, folding its arms as it glared at me. “That’s a good one, that is. I’ll have to remember it, I’ll tell it at your fucking funeral.”
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“You say that like I’ll be needing one.” I jabbed, feeling a grin creep up onto my face.
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“You wi –” It cut its own retort off halfway, smiling imperiously as it closed its eyes. It gave me a nod of mock concession before it looked away again. “... Well, hell, you might be right. I guess that part is still up in the air.”
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In my head, I gave it a silent little growl of defiance. I didn’t know if it was something actually there after all, or just a figment of my suffering imagination – but either way I wouldn’t go down as easily as it seemed to think I would.
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I was already in the hospital, so my odds of pulling through had to be pretty good. I had the upper hand. My ship had already come in – I just had to ride the tide back out, and hopefully flip this fucking smug, smarmy thing that wasn’t Fang off as I went past.
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It looked up at me, its grin even wider and more terrible than before, almost as if it was privy to my thoughts and found them nothing short of amusing.
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“Empty bluster,” It scoffed with another bemused shake of its head. “Desperate posturing. I’ll believe your strength when I see it firsthand. I’ll believe you deserve to live when you fucking prove it to me.”
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“I will,” I snarled. “You’ll see.”