expression matched his precisely—undiluted anger.
I remembered the aggression I felt in that moment—every tiny ounce of it. It congregated around me now, brushing up against my skin, caressing me, urging me to lash out, provoking me to feel what I had kept bottled up for so long.
“This is how you died, isn’t it?” Val asked, her voice sounding strangely soft. Her words were like ice to the flames that licked away at my insides. They dulled everything enough for me to get a grip on reality, to control the fury that had taken hold of me.
I paused, my feet faltering as I realized once again there was nothing I could do to better the situation, nothing I could do to stop it. It had already happened. I knew this. I was a Reaper because of it.
“Yeah,” I whispered, casting a glance over my shoulder at her. She still sat on the grass behind me, but at some point had drawn her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. Her violet eyes no longer flashed, but remained eerily steady as she took in the scene displayed in front of her.
She glanced at me and her dark eyebrows furrowed together in sympathy. “I’m sorry. It must have been a horrible way to die.”
I looked away, allowing my gaze to drop to my shoes as the grunts and sounds of the beating that killed me filled my ears. I didn’t want her pity. I wanted out of here. “Yeah, well, just help me figure out a way to get out of here.”
“ I’m so sorry… If I could take it back I would …” someone sobbed. The words seemed louder than anything else as they echoed through this memory, bouncing off the invisible walls and rushing toward me from all angles.
The voice registered somewhere within me. It sounded familiar, but at the same time not. I glanced around, but couldn’t see anyone who the words could have come from.
“ It shouldn’t have happened… I’m sorry. How many more times do I have to say it for you to know it’s true? ” the same voice pleaded.
I cocked my head to the side as I listened. Glancing around, I realized there was someone who stood off to the side, ankle-deep in the river’s dark water. His hands covered his face, making it impossible for me to determine who it was, but deep down, I knew anyway. I took a few steps forward. My anger seeped back out of the box inside of me, hungry to consume me once more at the sight of him. I was only a few feet away when he removed his hands to bear witness to what he had taken part in—the role he’d played in my death—and I stopped. Everything about him looked the same, just slightly older. This baffled me for a moment.
Jared gazed at the scene playing out before him with swollen eyes. His hands reached up and his fingers entwined within his hair. He began pulling at it and shouting: “I didn’t know… I’m sorry! If I could take it back I would!” His words didn’t echo like the previous ones had, but I knew he was the person who had spoken before. His voice still held the same pleading, desperate tone.
Even seeing him in the state he was in, I still had no pity for him, no sympathy whatsoever. If he had to relive this moment a million times over it still wouldn’t be enough punishment for what he had done to me.
“You can’t!” I shouted. My voice sounded like thunder as it echoed through the memory like his had before.
“He can’t hear you,” Val said as a reminder from where she sat. “It’s just the same as Rowan’s mother’s Purgatory. No one can hear you; no one can feel you.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides as I gave in wholly to what Purgatory wanted me to feel. The darkness I had caged inside of me released entirely. I could feel its fire pumping through my veins. My nostrils flared as I gritted my teeth and continued to stare at Jared. I took in the tiny details of his appearance, noticing how, in comparison, he hadn’t aged much between the memory version of himself and his soul that stood before me in his Purgatory.
This
I remembered the aggression I felt in that moment—every tiny ounce of it. It congregated around me now, brushing up against my skin, caressing me, urging me to lash out, provoking me to feel what I had kept bottled up for so long.
“This is how you died, isn’t it?” Val asked, her voice sounding strangely soft. Her words were like ice to the flames that licked away at my insides. They dulled everything enough for me to get a grip on reality, to control the fury that had taken hold of me.
I paused, my feet faltering as I realized once again there was nothing I could do to better the situation, nothing I could do to stop it. It had already happened. I knew this. I was a Reaper because of it.
“Yeah,” I whispered, casting a glance over my shoulder at her. She still sat on the grass behind me, but at some point had drawn her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. Her violet eyes no longer flashed, but remained eerily steady as she took in the scene displayed in front of her.
She glanced at me and her dark eyebrows furrowed together in sympathy. “I’m sorry. It must have been a horrible way to die.”
I looked away, allowing my gaze to drop to my shoes as the grunts and sounds of the beating that killed me filled my ears. I didn’t want her pity. I wanted out of here. “Yeah, well, just help me figure out a way to get out of here.”
“ I’m so sorry… If I could take it back I would …” someone sobbed. The words seemed louder than anything else as they echoed through this memory, bouncing off the invisible walls and rushing toward me from all angles.
The voice registered somewhere within me. It sounded familiar, but at the same time not. I glanced around, but couldn’t see anyone who the words could have come from.
“ It shouldn’t have happened… I’m sorry. How many more times do I have to say it for you to know it’s true? ” the same voice pleaded.
I cocked my head to the side as I listened. Glancing around, I realized there was someone who stood off to the side, ankle-deep in the river’s dark water. His hands covered his face, making it impossible for me to determine who it was, but deep down, I knew anyway. I took a few steps forward. My anger seeped back out of the box inside of me, hungry to consume me once more at the sight of him. I was only a few feet away when he removed his hands to bear witness to what he had taken part in—the role he’d played in my death—and I stopped. Everything about him looked the same, just slightly older. This baffled me for a moment.
Jared gazed at the scene playing out before him with swollen eyes. His hands reached up and his fingers entwined within his hair. He began pulling at it and shouting: “I didn’t know… I’m sorry! If I could take it back I would!” His words didn’t echo like the previous ones had, but I knew he was the person who had spoken before. His voice still held the same pleading, desperate tone.
Even seeing him in the state he was in, I still had no pity for him, no sympathy whatsoever. If he had to relive this moment a million times over it still wouldn’t be enough punishment for what he had done to me.
“You can’t!” I shouted. My voice sounded like thunder as it echoed through the memory like his had before.
“He can’t hear you,” Val said as a reminder from where she sat. “It’s just the same as Rowan’s mother’s Purgatory. No one can hear you; no one can feel you.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides as I gave in wholly to what Purgatory wanted me to feel. The darkness I had caged inside of me released entirely. I could feel its fire pumping through my veins. My nostrils flared as I gritted my teeth and continued to stare at Jared. I took in the tiny details of his appearance, noticing how, in comparison, he hadn’t aged much between the memory version of himself and his soul that stood before me in his Purgatory.
This
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