Interim
I spoke too soon.
Fate, fickle bitch that she is, has found me yet again, asking me to destroy the one thing I do, as it turns out, love.
And I do love Oscar. As soon as Fergus parades him into the room, the moment my eyes meet his, I know I love him.
Over the years, it's been easy to gloss over his memory, to wash away its colors from my mind. But now he’s saying my name and the millennia are ripped away like a bandage from an open wound. I can feel my heart tearing.
Oskar was good then, and he’s good now. I’ve always had a sharp eye for people, and throughout his long life, I doubt he’s done a single thing to tarnish the gift of immortality I gave him.
He takes my hand. Says, “I hope I haven’t hurt you.”
I don’t want him in a world that will possess this Darkness, whatever it is.
And that’s why I’m pulling him to me.
That’s why I’m gripping the fountain pen rather than screaming myself raw.
That’s why I’m keeping my eyes locked on you, Fergus, as I rip Oskar’s throat open. Imagining it’s your blood I hear hitting the pan.
This spell called for the sacrifice of a love because, according to the book, the caster has to serve as a conduit. Or a missing link. The Mark at one side of the chain, the Darkness at the other, and the caster what joins the two.
The link is betrayal. The link is loss. The link is a yearning that can never be fulfilled.
Agnes decorated the page with all kinds of poetic words and warnings, but they were only that- words. They meant nothing to me. Until now.
I’m reciting the spell with Oskar’s blood still hot on my hands. While my rage, my pain, my treachery against the one person I loved swallows and scalds the tattered remains of my heart.
Look at me, Fergus. Know this is your ruin.
Look at me, Angel. Soon you’ll give your father my regards.
“ Tolle maledictionem tuam ab hoc viro .”
I drop Dean Winchester’s hair into the bowl, and the world burns with me.