The mist outside was so thick and heavy that Mortuus couldn't see more than a few feet, and he could barely see his hands as he looked down. He turned and looked where he had come from, but there was only mist, endless mist sprawling out for miles in every direction.
He screamed into the mist, but there was no response. The longer he ran, the more unnerved Mortuus grew, especially when Death wasn't even responding. The only sound that he could hear was a consistent tick that sounded familiar.
The ticking was that of a grandfather clock that gradually began to come into view far off in the distance. As he walked up to the clock, Mortuus looked in at the pendulum bobbing back and forth. It was an unnatural bright gold color that reflected the things in front of it.
Mortuus wasn't even slightly focused on the clock's unnatural colors as he saw his reflection. Staring back at him wasn't the disfigured face that he knew so well but the handsome features of Peter Morgan.
"Do you remember yourself, Peter?" a soft feminine voice asked, but Mortuus was far too captivated by his reflection to look for who said it. A delicate yet strong hand rested on Mortuus's shoulder, and slowly, a new figure came into view behind him.
She was an incredibly tall woman, with features that gave him a sense of calm despite her imposing height. Her curvy figure was concealed beneath her flowing white robe, which seemed to move as if it were one with the breeze.
The woman introduced herself as Sate and waved her hand. Mortuus stuttered as he spoke, "S-sate? I... I thought you were God or something." The woman laughed softly, her voice sounding like a harp's beautiful song.
Sate nodded, "Yes, child. I go by many names." She paused and adjusted her robe slightly. "But, Mortuus, that is not why you are here," she added, which left Mortuus far more confused. He wanted to ask her why he was there, but Sate was very quick to respond.
"You are here because there are things you must see." She responded and waved her hand in front of the clock, transforming its glass into a window in which he could see the memories of someone else.
Across from another person, there sat a man with dark and angry features on his pale face. His thick black hair had specks of white, and he was dressed in an expensive and fancy-looking white-striped purple two-piece suit. In between two pudgy fingers, he held a thick cigar, the end of which was burning.
The stocky man glared through his thick brow at the other individual. His voice was raspy, and smoke exhaled with each word. "You're a difficult man to find, Andrews..." he stated slowly. Jason was taking deep breaths; the cigar was quite bothersome to him. Based on the man's fierce appearance, he was obviously Alejandro Ventura, the Italian mob boss.
The heavy-built man coughed on smoke and nodded slowly, "Maybe so, but I have a thorn in my side that I do believe you're more than capable of clipping..." he paused to add to his sentence, "...with your... abilities and whatnot."
Jason gritted his teeth. He very obviously wanted to attack this man, but something was preventing him. All Jason wanted was to be left alone, yet each time, someone managed to find him. "Why should I help you?" Jason finally asked, his voice suppressed by its hoarse nature.
The burly man laughed like an oak as he considered it. "You seem to be forgetting... You may not die..." He paused and leaned forward, whispering the last part in his ear. "...But you can still feel pain."
Jason swallowed hard as the gravity of Ventura's words hit. He was very clear and blunt about it. Before Jason had the chance to respond, Ventura snapped his fingers, and a young man walked in. The man was slim with short auburn hair parted to the side, and he wore a pair of headphones.
The young man bowed respectfully. His brown eyes shot open wide, and the pupils became hazy. Jason closed his eyes tight as a sharp pain began to shoot through his head, like a massive migraine. The longer it persisted, the more blurry his vision became. Ventura leaned back and smiled.
"Ed, here, has the incredible ability to control sound, radio, and electric waves... Such as those within your head, Andrews." Ventura began explaining while the fuzzy feeling only increased, "He could very easily oversurge your brain until... Pop! It explodes..."
Ventura lifted his hand, and Ed's eyes returned to normal, the migraine fading away. "Now... You could refuse me and experience this a thousand times over in far worse, or you could be a smart boy and work alongside me."
Jason thought for a moment and realized that Ventura had backed him into a corner. With Edward Nicholson behind him, Ventura was basically invincible. Jason was far too old now, much too worn out from the years to change his home. He sighed heavily and nodded, agreeing to Ventura's conditions.
As the two shook hands, the memory faded until Mortuus could once again see Peter's face staring him in the eyes. Behind him stood Sate, her imposing height giving a sense of motherly embrace and holding a poised position of authority and grace.
"Do you understand this, Peter?" Sate asked, her eyes shifting to a soft glimmer within the heavenly glow around them. Mortuus nodded and then spoke, "I... I understand, but why... Why call me that?"
Sate tilted her head slightly, her arms coming to rest near her stomach, "This is the name I have given to you... The name you were born to wear with pride, reverence, and understanding. A name as strong-willed and determined as the individual who beholds it."
Mortuus shook his head, staring at the perfection of who he once was. "That's exactly why I'm not Peter. Please, ma'am, I beg of you to understand this," he asked Sate. The goddess stood above silently for a few moments before nodding.
She leaned down and cupped Mortuus's face in one of her palms, "Oh, my sweet child. You have no need to beg. I may have given you creation, but it is only your free will that may give you life."
Mortuus sighed and looked up at Sate. "Why must you and Death be so cryptic?" he asked. Sate laughed softly. Her giggle sounded pure and childlike. She then knelt, "Perhaps you are asking the wrong question..."
Mortuus thought for a moment before looking up at Sate. "Why don't you ever help me?" he asked. Sate sighed softly before responding, "A blessing and a curse can take the same form, Peter. If you only see the curse, the blessing will be hidden, and vice versa... Do you understand?"
Mortuus acknowledged what Sate was saying, "You've been helping all along... I just wasn't looking?" Sate nodded slowly, confirming what he'd asked.
He turned to ask another question, but Sate lifted her finger to his lips, silencing him. She parted her robe and to the side, showing a door behind her. "I wish I could explain everything, but you must find out for yourself." Sate then led Mortuus to the door.
Everything began to fade into sand once more... 97Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnPyH4PnBH5
