The Faerie Curses

Chapter Thirty-Three: Death at Dawn

"You can't escape it, Marissa." His voice was rasping in my ear. "Listen to your dying heart. Can you feel it beating? Slowly, but surely, it will stop like hands on a clock. The darkness will consume you. You can fight, little knight, but you cannot win."

I could feel his reeking breath washing over my face. I clenched my fists, shoving down a whimper.

"Stop." I whispered.

"Count your breaths. How many will it take until they run out entirely?"

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths. Hurtling closer to the end.

He inhaled. "Oh yes, little knight. I can smell it all over you. The fear. Remember what I told you? Magic can only conquer so much, you know. But not the fear. It lingers in the shadows of your mind, gnawing at your insides with merciless diligence. I can hear it scurrying through your blood."

The mask of iron loomed in front of me like the face of the devil.

"Death, Marissa." His voice dropped lower into a deep rumble. "You fear it, don't you?"

I bit my lip, my body trembling as I shook my head.

"Say it." He hissed.

"Never."

"You're dead already; your soul is being slowly lowered into your coffin as we speak. How does it feel, Marissa, to know that you'll be rotting in your own grave with nothing but maggots to keep you company as your flesh withers and dies?"

His face blinked into pitch black, the gleam of his iron armor swallowed in a hole of darkness.

"Hey!" I cried.

Instead of words, I felt dirt stream into my mouth and nose and choke my throat. I spat it out, desperately trying to scrape it away from me. My nails connected with wood above me, scratching against the surface that confined me in darkness.

I was trapped in the earth.

I screamed, hot whips of panic lashing against my body. My eyes were pressed shut, I couldn't breathe, and I was buried so deep that no one could hear my panicked, muffled sobs. Frantically, I clawed at the inside of my grave. I pleaded for someone, anyone, to save me. I was helpless.

Cold earth caked my face, my arms, my fingers. Odors of rot stifled my senses.

"Are you ready to say it now, Marissa?"

His voice was everywhere.

I gagged and gasped, pounding against the wood that held me caged in my doom.

"Stop!" I cried. "Stop it!"

"Not until you admit it, Marissa." He replied, his voice deep and coaxing.

Then, I felt scuttling against my bare skin. I whimpered as crawling, withering insects coated by body. They covered every inch of me, buzzing into my ears and my nose. The dirt, the desperation, the beetles and maggots all ripped screams of terror out of my lungs.

I screamed and screamed, sobbing where no one would ever hear me. It was torture. It was agony. It was hell.

"I'm afraid!" I cried as more dirt flooded into my mouth. "I'm afraid to die!"