Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. Six | Our Silhouettes |

Blue light snakes through each and every vein in my body, tingling along the edges and stirring a deep cough in my chest. Smoke brushes against my nose when I exhale, heat swarming between The Reaper and me.

Petrified, I remain in place. My body begins to stiffen and calcify like stone, only to melt away into a light fluidity. I cannot feel my weight, my height, or the connection to the world around me.

Demetri's eyes flare a little bit when my head lolls back. Not in anger, but fear.

He removes his hand from me just in time to catch me. My suit slips in his hold a little bit, the rain and mud making a grip rather difficult.

Before I know it, I'm hoisted up and carried away, the faint feeling of my essence flickering just beneath my heels.

"What's happening to me?" I murmur, my voice a groggy mess.

Demetri only shushes me at first, eyes full of focus. Each step is as calculated as the first time I met him. "Everything's going to be okay, Holly."

The small assurance allows me to go slack, relaxing into his warm frame and curl in slightly with the only strength I have. The rhythmic steps lure me deep into a secure sleep.

I don't notice the light shifting around us and the strange realm we enter. Through slitted eyes, I manage to see a gathering of all the Reapers around Death's throne. Lyric is also carried by her Handler, Noah supported by an arm over Atticus' shoulder. Most of the other contestants were on their knees or simply limp on their faces.

Seb continues to attempt to stand but collapses all the same.

"Stop acting so tough Sebastian," Death drawls casually. "The crystals are meant to incapacitate the user, so unless you'd like to make your situation more painful I suggest you let the energy consume you."

He sneers in response and launches for the dark figure, only to fall on the ground and choke. Unconsciousness steals him in seconds.

The Wraith chuckles quietly. "You said he was a Killer, Darius, but you never told me he was stupid."

I cannot see the man who laughs next, but something thuds to the ground shortly after. "Perhaps I should've told you his last victim was the one to kill him, a young mother alone for the night and he couldn't even tie her down without getting a concussion."

"How pathetic." A shuffling sound echoes through the room as the unfamiliar voice speaks. "I suppose it is all an act then."

"What now, My Lord?" I hear Atticus ask.

With a lengthy sigh, Death takes several long seconds before presumably lifting himself off the throne and pacing. "Bring them up to Saint Azriel and leave them in the moon pool. I want to see how they fare against the-"

With the sentence getting farther and farther away, I miss the final words spoken by a fraction of a second.

The next thing I know is everything but soothing.

"Line them up now," Atticus demands in a sharp, cold voice. "One at a time."

"The Killer," Darius says, followed by a loud splash.

Another steps forward. "The Lover."

Another onslaught of water sprays everywhere.

"The Sinner."

Again, a mist coats my face and hands.

"The Savior."

Each time a new voice, each time another splash.