Chapter 143 - After Ritual - Part 1

Doris coughed up blood upon waking, tears welling up her eyes. She had no idea what was happening, and all she knew was that she was in pain. As if there was a hole in her mind, she had no recollection of what happened. One moment she was running, and the next, she was lying on the ground—a knife set on her heart.

"L-lady, w-why does it hurt… so much?"

I backed away, trembling—shaking in fear. My breathing became erratic, my heart pounding violently. The way blood flowed out of Doris's chest, the way the color quickly drained from her face, terrifies me. 

Doris—the real Doris—was dying right before my eyes. And though I never wanted this to happen, I was the one who did this to her. I gave her the pain she was suffering right now, the pain she never asked for. 

"D-Doris, I—I'm sorry," I fell to the ground beside her, my hands not knowing where to touch. I didn't dare to touch her, scared that a little touch would make things worse for her. "I-I didn't mean to do this to you," I said, and before I knew it, tears streamed down my cheeks. 

W-what should I do? She's going to die at this rate. I—I have to do something, but what can I do? Do I pull the knife? Do I stop the blood from coming out? How? 

"D-doctor! Let's go to the doctor! There has to be a doctor here somewhere," I let my trembling hand go behind her back, trying to carry her to the nearest doctor. "I'm not going to let you die," I said, but then Doris held up her hand, pushing me away. 

"N-no… don't," she struggled to say the words, her breath heaving with every word.

"What? W-what do you mean don't?"

Her brown eyes met mine for a split second before moving to the horizon—to the star-lit sky. She smiled ever so softly, and I could immediately tell that it was a genuine smile. It wasn't like the eerie ones that I'd seen from everyone else here, but it was a smile that showed her happiness. 

"I see angels… beautiful angels," she said, almost a whisper. Her voice seemed to be getting smaller by the minute. "They're calling for me. They said—" she coughed out more blood, but she didn't mind it. I did. 

"Doris, stop! Stop talking," I grew even more frantic after seeing the pool of blood around us. Despite Doris's refusal, I carried her in my arms and dashed towards the gate, hoping to find someone—anyone—who could help her. "W-we need to find a doctor right away." 

"…I can eat as much as I want," she continued, still staring at the sky. I kept running, not minding the blood which was staining my dress. I ignored everyone else and ran with all my might, hoping to find a doctor in the villages around here. I can't let her die. 

"L-lady…" Doris called as I ran, moving her hand to my cheek. I felt the shivers when I felt her fingers touching me, feeling them cold against my cheek.  "Thank you… for freeing me."

My heart fell at her words, but I didn't have the courage to look down at her. Even when her hands fell limp, and even when she took her last breath, I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes straight at the road ahead of me, running at a speed I never knew I had towards the gate.

"Ack!" Feeling my legs weak, I tripped and fell. Doris escaped my arms, falling into the snow in front of me. Her blood immediately stained the white snow, making it deep red in color.

Everything around me blurred away, and I could only hear the sound of my rampaging heart. With the snow that fell, a beautiful soul left the world. The young girl who dreamed of a little food left for a better world where she could eat as much as she wanted. 

Ahh, it's cold.

The angels she talked about—they would surely treat her well, right? I turned around and looked up at the sky, at the falling snow, wondering and questioning whether I had done the right thing. If I was stronger, would I be able to save her?

Was there really no other way? Why must I kill in order to save? Was it because I'm too young? Too weak? Too dumb? Or was it because… the world is too cruel?

Why can't we live happily alongside each other? Why can't we live without the constant fear of danger? Why can't we be more compassionate, be more selfless towards others? Why must we fight for peace?

Perhaps greed was the root of it all.

If only reality was like the stories I used to read, we'd all be able to live happily ever after. But, sadly, in each of those storybooks, there was always a villain who took everyone's happily ever after and turned them into a doom ever after.

In order to win, we have to fight.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my courage to look at the young girl. I was scared—scared to see the pained expression on Doris's face, scared to see the knife on her chest. I was haunted by the memory of my mother's dead body, and I was not ready to add another corpse to my memory.

Will she have a frown on her face? Will she be as pale as the snow? What would she look like now that all that was left was an empty shell? The body was missing the soul that made it a person, yet once it had been. There was once a time where she laughed, cried, ran around the village like the young kid she was. But now she lay on the cold snow, stiff, rigid—lifeless.

Do I have the right to mourn for her death? When I was the one who brought death upon her? Do I?

At the very least, I have to remember. I have to remember every line on her face, every stain of blood on her body, every memory of her. I should live with the guilt of killing her for the rest of my life. That way, I might be able to atone for my sin of robbing her of her supposed birthday cakes.

I stole her from her fifth, tenth, twentieth birthdays, and yet, she thanked me for freeing her—killing her. Those words made my guilt even heavier, knowing that I killed such a beautiful soul who even had the time to consider my feelings right before her death. 

People said that God tends to take the most beautiful of souls faster, taking them and keeping them by His side. But why? Why must they die such horrible deaths in order to be by His side? Mom, Anna, Doris. All of them left only after a terrible death, after a terrible pain when they were the kindest, most caring, and most beautiful people I'd ever met. 

The question of why never stopped coming—until today. The answer came as clear as day. 

Death was never pleasant to begin with. 

Decided to fight my fear head-on, I sat up, then turned towards Doris. She was still there, pale, unmoving. Blood had stained almost all parts of her body, also the snow beneath her. Everything was the same as how I'd expected it to be, except for her expression.

There was no frown, no creases between her brows, nothing close to a pained expression. Rather, she had her eyes closed, her mouth turned upwards into a smile. She was smiling.

My tears immediately fell like a waterfall, and my heart broke into a million pieces. I wanted to scream, as loud as possible, but I lacked the strength to do so. There was nothing I could do but mourn her death, for the loss of such a beautiful soul.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I pulled her into a hug, feeling her body heavy and cold. "I'm sorry for being weak. I'm sorry for not being able to save you. I'm sorry—for everything I couldn't do for you, for the chance we never had." 

I wanted someone—anyone—to say that all of this was a joke, a big fat joke someone had made to laugh at. But I had no such luck. No one came to my rescue, and only my tears came ceaselessly out of my eyes. 

Until her very last breath, she knew nothing of how she ended up like this. She never met her parents, her friends, or ate her last meal. She stayed confused, hungry, lost. But she accepted her death. 

She knew that it was inevitable, and she knew that there was nothing more she could do to keep living. She knew this was the end for her, so she smiled. It was a smile brighter than any of the stars shining in the endless sky—a smile that will live on in my heart forever.

On a very cold day, Doris became an angel.