Sybil (Completed)

As Silence Falls

All I can think about in these moments of silence are not thoughts that I would expect myself to have. Silence means that I should be reflecting on these past few hours to days I have been awake and processing all of this, but all I can think about is how the fabric of my dress itches my skin. I was buried in this dress, put to rest in such an uncomfortable outfit because the dead do not care what they are put in. Over and over my fingers scratch at the material, the small gemstones rubbed into my skin as the pain is not something I stray away from, as if the pain reminds me that I am alive. It is not a way to remind myself that I am alive, but rather a way to know I can experience pain, as if for however long I have been dead I have needed to feel something, whether it be pain of perhaps an emotion like joy or sorrow.

The soft wind pulls me back to the scenery before me, the small garden before me as I sit out on the patio of the house, the moonlight draped across the world as I take in a deep breath. Fiona showed me around briefly a few hours ago, telling me where different rooms were and if I needed anything where to find it. She said Zion had taken a car into the town, having business to attend to as I wanted to ask what kind of business, but decided I would be better off not knowing. Not because it is none of my business, but because I know to save my questions for when the time is right. Besides, this man called me a shell, something that struck me as harsh and bitter as I still hear those words repeated in my mind.

But is Zion all I have left in this world? He says how he needs me back, making me wonder if it is just his selfish actions talking, or if no one else needs me back. My parents, I know I must at least have parents, wondering if they even know of my revival, of the darkness which brought me back. I know I am a werewolf, I know that much about myself that I am not human, but I feel human in this moment. Perhaps this is what humans feel like on the inside, feeling all hollow because they have no wolf within them. I am a werewolf, yet there is no wolf within me which calls my name, trying to resurface with my help.

Leaning back, I put my feet up on the small table beside me, closing my eyes tightly as I try and think, try and locate any part of my memories that might just resurface and allow me to remember a bit of who I am...was. A sudden tapping on the wall beside me pulls my attention to the witch who stares out to the garden before us. "As a child I swore to myself that I would fix the curse placed upon my coven, my family and friends," Fiona begins, crossing her arms as her face has lost any emotion. "My parents thought I was going to grow out of that dream as all children outgrow their dreams, for dreams are just silly beliefs. Besides, this curse has been in my coven for centuries, accepting the fact that we will never be free."

"What is this curse exactly?"

"It is the reason why so many witches seek immortality," she responds, "to keep death away as long as we can before he plucks us from our lives." Taking a seat across from me, the witch holds out her palm, a flash of lightening striking her hand, the light blinding me, a ringing in my ear causing me to cover my ears, and I stare at the witch who is unharmed, her other hand trapping the narrow bolt within her palm as she tries hard to press her hands together. Palms together, the lightening enters her skin, veins almost glowing within her flesh as those eyes shine a bright green. But something is off, for as Fiona rolls up her sleeve, I see her flesh turning black around her upper arm, as if spreading further down to her elbow. "The more magic we use, the faster our bodies decay until we turn to ash. Our powers are limited, our days numbered, and the afterlife only means we will become Ixion within the Greek tale of Zeus binding him to an eternally burning wheel."

"So when you die, your soul burns upon a wheel for eternity," I process, trying to think what my eternal slumber was like before it was disturbed.

"Many of my coven have left, swearing off magic as they believe that if they use no magic, this afterlife will not apply to them, but the curse runs through their blood, not their actions." Rolling up her shirt, Fiona exposes her torso to me, a torso covered in black skin, golden symbols almost glowing in the skin as they rest on her rib cage. "Bringing you back from the dead turned my stomach black. I have risked much of my existence to bring you back, so that bastard better break this curse."