Kill Me

“Kill me,” she whispered softly into his ear. He jerked back abruptly as if she had physically slapped him. He stood still, shocked into silence, unable to breathe and only barely able to comprehend the words she had just spoken to him. His eyes traveled the length of her sculptured body, nude save for the thin cloak of moonlight that spilled over her, before returning to her eyes as if to search for the answers in her face.

Her eyes were the same soft shade of blue he associated with her most loving moods and she wore the private smile she shared only with him.  For a brief moment, an image of her pale body lying still in a puddle of maroon blood washed through his mind, and he shut his eyes quickly in hopes of banishing the image but the after-image remained as if taunting him. A sense of foreboding settled over him and he shuddered as if caressed by the hand of Death.

In an effort to assure himself that she was still alive, he reached out a hand to her intending to caress her hair. Instead she caught the hand and said again, “Kill me. Please.”

This time he turned away and began to cry, as he had not cried since he was a small boy. The sobs wracked his body as the emotion drained through his tears. He could not kill her. He had killed before, stood watching as the life force drained from the body until the body was but a shell, and the images had never left him. Not even for her, not even though the thought of denying her anything caused him almost as much pain as the thought of her death, would he kill again and face that torment.

She watched as he cried, her own tears sliding silently down her face. She knew what she asked of him, knew that in the end he would do this for her as he had done a thousand other things equally as difficult.  This would be the last task, the hardest, and then there would be no more tasks and he could find the rest he had sought for so long. She, too, would find her own rest. 

“Don’t. Don’t do this to me, Jas. I love you too much. Please, please don’t make me do this.” He begged, his voice rough and broken. His eyes sought hers, rimmed red with tears and full of the unspeakable pain he felt. She quavered for a moment, wanting to take back the words she had spoken and spare him this last, but in the end held steady knowing that to save him this small pain was to insure a much greater suffering for them both.

He noticed the tears that fell silently from her eyes, the eyes that held no promise of reprieve. This time she would not back down.  She wanted an end to it all. So did he. He was tired of the endless lifetimes spent repeating a centuries old mistake only to be reborn and do it all over again. He was tired, unbelievably tired, as if all of the centuries before this one had suddenly been lived in a single night.

He crept toward her, begging her consolation and forgiveness. She watched unmoving as he came closer, longing to take him in her arms and give him what he sought but not daring to do so until he had given his word he would do as she had asked and bring this nightmare to a close.  He laid his head on her breast as he reached the bed, closing his eyes as he softly said the words she had been waiting to hear. “I’ll do it, Jas. I promise. Just…not tonight, okay?”

She relaxed, then, and put her arms around him taking as much solace in his solidness as he did in her softness. They slept together that night; arms around one another, faces pressed close together, breathing as if they were one.