Pain.
A relentless, gnawing agony that has been my only companion for as long as I can remember. I can endure it. I've learned to. But the thought of dying? That, I cannot accept.
What is the purpose of life if, in the end, it is stolen away?
Mother Nature is cruel. A giver of life, a thief of souls.
My twin sister and I—cursed, bound together in more ways than blood. She cannot speak, yet I hear her as clearly as my own thoughts, our psychic link a side effect of sharing one body in the womb.
And now, death circles us, closing in.
Not just ours. Hers.
Mother.
If she dies, we die. It is as simple as that.
Every time she steps beyond these walls in search of food, fear coils in my stomach like a viper. What if she never comes back? What if, this time, the world finally claims her?
But she always returns.
That day, everything changed.
Father snapped. He had endured long enough, tolerated our existence for too many years. His patience had run dry.
So Mother killed him.
Her friend discovered the truth.
So Mother killed her, too.
People speak of gods—whispering prayers to unseen deities, hoping for mercy. But to me, there is only one god.
Mother.
And now, as the entire village gathers at our doorstep, torches blazing, voices raised in hatred, one thought echoes through my mind.
Kill them all, Mother.
CAPTURE THEM ALL
A voice booms from the crowd.
"Capture them!"
The words ripple through the village like a curse, followed by the thunder of footsteps. Men, clad in red sashes, storm through the homes, dragging villagers into the dirt.
Mother fights, thrashing against them like a wild beast, but there are too many. She is forced to her knees, shackled in chains.
Inside the hut, the stench of sickness clings to the air like death itself. A man steps inside, his nose wrinkling. His gaze lands on me.
"Sir," he calls out. "We found… something."
He gestures at me, at my frail, fever-ridden form.
The village elder, kneeling outside, lifts his head at the words. His expression twists into something sharp, something hateful.
"Chief!" he shouts. "Not all of us are sick! I told you—we have a disease spreading through the village, and that thing is the cause!"
A murmur of agreement spreads through the villagers.
I do not flinch.
I have long been called a curse.
I am forced to kneel beside Mother. She is silent, but I know her well enough to understand—she is calculating.
The chief steps forward, his face hidden behind an ornate mask. His voice is calm.
"As ruler of this land, I cannot allow this virus to spread. If the city learns of this, they will demand action. That is money out of my pocket. So, how do we solve this problem?"
A slow smile creeps onto his lips.
"Oh, I know." He chuckles. "We kill all of you and burn this place to the ground."
Cold dread wraps around my spine like a vice.
Is this truly how I die?
The chief raises a hand.
"Archers, form a line!"
Men step forward, bows in hand, arrows nocked.
"Three…"
I cannot move.
"Two…"
"Brother…" my sister's voice quivers in my mind. "We're going to die for real this time. I'm scared."
"So am I."
"One."
The twang of bowstrings fills the air.
I see villagers fall.
And then—
An arrow flies straight toward me.
MOTHER'S RAGE
A shadow moves.
Warm arms wrap around me, shielding me from death itself.
A sharp gasp.
Then—blood.
I blink.
Mother stands before me, trembling. The arrow meant for my heart is lodged deep in her back.
She coughs, crimson spilling from her lips.
But she smiles.
"Worry not, my children," she whispers. "Mother is here."
The chief snarls.
"Fire again! Bring her down!"
Arrows rain down like a storm. One. Two. Ten.
Each one pierces her back, yet she does not fall.
She should be dead.
But she is not.
My sister's voice quivers in my mind.
"Brother… is she truly a god?"
And then—
Laughter.
A bitter, hollow sound.
"Can I never have peace in this world?" Mother murmurs, speaking to no one. "The world keeps pushing me down. Trial after trial. Do I not deserve a good life?"
The chief scowls.
"Swordsmen!" he roars. "Cut her down!"
The warriors charge.
Mother pulls an arrow from her back.
The first man swings his axe—she dodges, swift as the wind, and drives the arrow into his throat.
A second lunges—she twists, ramming it into his eye.
A third comes from behind—she sidesteps, grabs his wrist, and snaps it. His scream is short-lived.
More attack.
She seizes a fallen blade, slicing through the next like a butcher carving meat.
One remains.
The last man stumbles back, terror in his eyes.
Mother leaps onto him, pinning him down.
The last thing he sees is her bloodstained grin before she twists his head clean off.
I let out a breath.
It is over.
We get to live.
Or so I thought.
The chief remains.
Slowly, he raises his plasma gun.
His aim—straight at me.
"How can a woman have such strength?" he mutters. "She's a monster."
The gun hums.
A burst of energy fires.
And as always, Mother is faster.
She throws herself in front of me, taking the shot to her chest.
She gasps, staggering.
"Children…" she wheezes. "I… failed you…"
I shake my head, eyes burning.
"No! Mother, don't die! If you die, we die!"
She smiles weakly.
And then, she sings.
MOTHER'S LULLABY
"Hush now, my child, close your eyes so tight,
Mother is here, guarding through the night.
Storms may rage, the winds may cry,
But I will stand, I will not die.
Even if darkness comes to call,
My love will shield you, standing tall.
In every breath, in every prayer,
Know that I will always be there.
Sleep, my dear, let dreams take flight,
Wrapped in warmth, bathed in light.
No fear, no pain, no tears to weep,
For in my arms, you're safe to sleep."
Her voice fades.
She collapses.
Silence.
My breath shudders.
Our eyes meet the chief's.
His gun hums once more.
A final shot aimed at our heart.
"Is this how it ends?"
Darkness swallows me whole.
AM I DEAD?
Silence.
An endless, suffocating void.
"Brother… where are we?"
"I don't know."
"Are we dead?"
Then—
A voice.
"Arise."
A radiant purple light flares before us.
A figure steps through—a woman, veiled in shadows, a scythe in her grasp.
She gazes down at us, her voice cold.
"Do you wish to live again?"