Ash stiffens in my arms, yellow eyes wide and frenetic against her pallid complexion. Her protest is a desperate lash of a dying flame, "We can't leave her."
"She's already dead," my response is deathly cool.
She needs to die off. I only regret that I can't finish it myself.
"No!"
"This is the bed she made."
I give the disfigured head one more concealed glance before leaving it to burn. Blue evil stares back. Good riddence.
"No," Ashlen croaks again and squirms, "Put me down!"
She's in a convulsive fit and I tighten my hold, "Stop, Ashlen. There's nothing we can do."
"She's not in her right mind. At least get her down!"
I'm resolved to ignore Ash until an animal snarl rises from her chest. An acute flick of pain injects into my arm, taking me off guard.
"Gah!" I slide us to the ground before I drop her. She pushes away, riggling further from me. Her mouth stained with my blood, eyes glazed.
"Damn it!" I snap, pressing down on the circular gash in my arm, utterly appalled. She *bit* me!
"Damn it," I bite out in a breath, not letting outrage and an overload of stress get the better of me, "What was that for?"
"I won't leave her," she murmurs. There's hunger skipping in her unfocused eyes.
"Don't you get it, Ash?" I insist low, for her ears alone, "She's the cause of all this, the root to all your problems. We could end it here."
Ash doesn't stop the convulsive shake of her head, sickly vivid eyes glimmering and refusing to see truth, eating through energy she clearly doesn't have.
"There's no time! Sunrise is close," I urge. Her irrationality is aggravating, but I can't have her fighting me now or we may not see tomorrow. I yell a thousand unsavory profanities in my head instead of blowing up. I need to keep my mind clear.
I glance at the sky, at Ashlen and at her nuisance of a master who's rapidly becoming the ultimate thorn in my side.
I try for reason one last time, quieter but stern, "If she lives you'll suffer for it. This will come back to bite you."
"I won't go until she's off of that stake," she states, unaffected by any say on the matter.
I close my eyes in frustration. There are no favorable options.
I pick myself up, internally spitting and seething as I go over to the accursed woman. That thing's odious gaze follows. The Reaper lets out a hisses you'd hear from a hostile cat as it bats claws.
"Enough," I snarl back, glaring into a face that's more vile up close. There's no flicker of recognition, humor or arrogance like our last meet up. Ashlen's right, she's off. Basing it off of her physical affliction, it's not surprising her mind is damaged, "You're not in a position to get testy. I have few qualms leaving you here"
Her corneas are imperfect, veined and lumpy. Those murky pupils see well enough and I notice the disturbing comprehension formulating in them. A lesser animal becoming sentient and superior. She focuses, the raw flesh wrinkles her brow, attempting to discern, to remember.
"Sam is not the enemy," Ashlen assures her in pants.
I keep my expression mild though my teeth clench with dissent. I couldn't disagree more.
I could rip her heart out, *should* tear it out. Certainly that is beyond her uncanny survival skill. Ending her and all the havok that follows in one fell swoop.
Would Ash have any choice but to cooperate then? Surely she'd resent me, perhaps insist on following her master to the grave. No, that won't work, I can't have that. And on a lesser note but nagging all the same; would I feel any satisfaction, any closure killing the reaper in this vulnerable state. She probably doesn't remember who she is let alone her centuries of mayhem.
"Sam…"
I contain a shiver and stare up into that red, unfathomable face. My name pronounced with such gravely intonation shakes me to present. A mouth so deformed shouldn't have the ability to speak. Those impossibly long fangs are like bleached tusks pouring from her skull.
That nasty skeletal face takes on an odd expression with its limited muscle, exposed eyeballs beaming from the sockets with lost knowledge. I note the irony of how that missing nose has her vaguely resembling a vampire bat, like some grotesque septic hybrid.
Choppy air vibrates up her throat in a rusty chuckle, slipping through the wall of exposed teeth as the malformed flesh surrounding flexes. There seems to be an infuriating piece of her that wasn't decimated beyond repair.
I suppress the impulsive returning snarl. I would love nothing more than to end her abhorrent existence but that day is not today. I want her to comprehend perfectly who her executioner is and why. I can be patient.
I find myself slightly amused by this twist of luck I've come to expect. Things align so perfectly, then something comes along to throw a wrench in and ruin the whole damn picture. It can never be easy.
I snort out a laugh of contempt. Let the odds be against me, I'll achieve my goal in time.
The reaper and I snicker together, an ugly laugh of bitterness. We eye each other and I see a disturbing likeness in her miserable depths. For a terrifying moment I can see the appeal of reaping, the forbidden act of eating one of "our own". Not just a taste, consuming the closest thing a vampire will ever have to a soul, their blood, all of it. I imagine her heart in my hand, taking the essence, watching pure terror take shape before the lights go out forever.
Reaping, one of my very motives for snuffing her out of existence and I desire to inflict that upon her, transparent hypocrisy.
I lean into the hole where an ear should be and whisper an ominous truth, "You're in a really bad spot. I'd watch my back if I were you."
I don't give her any warning when rip out the horizontal blades with a jerk. Her throaty laughter turns into a corpsey gasp. 'Oh, does that hurt?' I muse with caustic gratification.
Gravity inches the last scythe up her middle, splitting her withered skin like a macabre zipper. I grin inwardly and savor a satisfying groan of despair as it creeps closer to that black heart.
Ashlen's pained moan snaps me out of my sadistic fantasy. I release the last blade and let the demon hit dirt. My mouth twitches as she crumples over retching.
I brush past as one blue ring shines at me through the sparse strands of hair. I carelessly relay over my shoulder, "You're on your own from here, figure it out."
A grating wheeze has me peering back. I glimpse the briefest twinkle, that hint of former arrogance as she squeezes out another repulsive chuckle. I press my lips together to conceal the sneer of disgust. A part of me hopes I'm lucky and she'll go up in flames regardless of the assist, the other wants to be the one to bring her down.
"It's done," I scoop Ashlen up, pushing away any mindset that won't aid in getting us out. I keep the lecture to a minimum, "I need you to cooperate from this point forward, can you do that?"
"Yes," she breathes, almost looking worse than before. She'd waste away on devotion. Cooper is right, I don't understand this erroneous loyalty and her ties by blood.