The kit’s body began to glow as a semi transparent form rose from the shell the kit left behind. Ready for the death that beckoned, the death that was her. Sadness for this young kit who had left behind his chance to grow, to age and to live washed over her, guilt for taking him from his promising life snaked up her spine.
An invisible weight settled over her like fog. Knowledge. Knowledge of the choice she made, knowledge of what she had done. Softening her gaze she purred. “This way.” Her tail swishing behind her like a feather dancing in a storm. As she guided the kit to the portal.
The specterlike kit followed her as she drifted through the portal, returning to the neverending darkness, the neverending darkness that was the land of the dead.
YOU ARE READING
Born Dead
Short StoryPeeling open her damp eyelids from her clear silver eyes, she blinked. Was this what living was like?
