TW - suicidal thoughts, jess doesn't want to live without scilla :( but he's fine <3

Chapter 11

-Jess-

Pure pain. That’s all I feel, and it’s worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I would know; I have all my memories back now, after all.

But it’s all completely meaningless.

Scilla is gone.

She died, because of me. 

But worse than that, is how the phantom took her. Scilla can’t even go to Heaven like Lucinda can - they can’t even go together. 

Instead, Scilla is part of a disgusting spirit: the fused souls of her abuser and mine.

I can’t even cry. Without a body, I won’t even be able to remain here for long.

I will never be able to free Scilla.

And that hurts more than having our souls ripped apart.

Everything I had to live for was torn from me within just a matter of minutes. Lucinda: dead. Scilla: stolen. And I doubt Myrtle could have survived in all that black smoke.

All of them are gone.

So maybe I should be too.

“Please…please vanquish me. Please end this; I don’t want to go to Hell’s waiting room - I’ve suffered enough, surely. Please, I can’t live without Scilla,” I whisper, hoping that the Grim Reaper will just end this all already.

He sits down heavily on the ground of wherever it is that he took us, and opens his hand, letting my soul float upwards a little.

“No. I’m not going to vanquish you. And I’m not going to send you back to Hell’s waiting room either,” he says firmly. 

“You don’t understand. Please, just- just stop the hurt already. I can’t do this without her.” My voice is thick with emotion, and all I want is to cry. The urge has never been so strong before - I just want to let my suffering out.

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t do this.

“Please, I’m begging you. I never meant to kill my parents or hurt anyone, and I’ve already suffered. So isn’t it enough? Can’t I just- stop, now?” 

The Grim Reaper shakes his head, snapping his hands closed around my soul again. “No. I know you didn’t mean to kill them; I saw it all. But you have to free the woman’s soul. And then I’ll deliver her and this woman’s soul up to Heaven, where they can be together again, understand?” He says softly, taking out the small box from his pocket which contains Lucinda’s soul.

If I could throw up, I would. If I could cry, I would.

If I could kill myself, I would.

But I can do none of those things.

I can’t do anything at all.

“Why wasn’t I able to protect them? I thought that finally, I would be able to protect my loved ones. So why wasn’t I strong enough!” 

Just end it already.

Please.

“No, Robert. You are strong, but he is just so much more powerful. But we aren’t going to let him win. We aren’t going to let things end here,” the Reaper continues, his voice not making room for any disagreement. 

But the name makes me want to throw up all over again.

“Never call me that name. I share it with that monster who just killed the person I love most in this world,” I reply bitterly, wishing I had never been called that name in the first place.

“What do I call you then?” The Reaper says calmly, opening up another small box which I presume he’s going to put me in.

“You don’t have to call me anything: you just have to vanquish me.”

“Well what about the cat then?” He asks nonchalantly, and my heart stumbles a little.

“Myrtle? Is she- alive?” 

The Grim Reaper shrugs, standing up. “I don’t see why not. Phantoms don’t take animal souls - they have no reason to as they doesn’t give them any extra power. So your cat should be fine, and I’m not going to take responsibility for it and feed it or whatever, so if you really want me to vanquish you then fine. But your cat will die too.”

This fucking bastard.

“Get her to me and then I’ll decide.”

“How will you feed her and take care of her without a body?” The Reaper asks innocently, and I wish I had a body so that I could smack him in his annoying face. “Fine. I’ll need a body. But I’m not possessing anyone, and I’m not fusing souls ever again. I can’t take that kind of pain,” I whisper.

I con’t lose anyone again.

So if Myrtle is still alive, then…

I’ll live for her.

—————

“What about this one? He’s pretty handsome, and will never wake up. Has a whole nice family that visits him every week too,” The Reaper suggests, and I roll my eyes - not that I actually have any.

The Reaper has been reluctantly looking after Myrtle whilst trying to find me a body, but none of them have been right, and we’re beginning to run out of time before my soul is sucked from this realm.

“Definitely not. And I don’t mind having another female body; I think I feel more comfortable looking like a woman anyway,” I explain, half as an afterthought. 

“Really? Are you actually a woman then?” The Reaper asks curiously. “No, but I don’t expect you to understand,” I sigh.

“So what, you just like women’s clothes then?”

“No, that isn’t it either,” I huff, watching as the Reaper and I flick through the list of available bodies that he compiled. He’s a pretty fast and hard worker, it seems.

“So what is it then? Explain it to me.”

“Why should I?” I retort. It’s not like we know anything about each other - or no, he knows everything about me apparently, based on how he saw my memories. But he doesn’t know my name, and I don’t know his. If Grim Reapers even have names, anyway.

“Because I’m curious. I’ve spent my whole existence as a Grim Reaper - we aren’t born or alive, like spirits were at one point. Reapers are made, so I’ve had a pretty boring and regular existence. But you’re interesting, so humour me,” he explains.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

“What is it?” He asks, continuing to flip through the many profiles he compiled of different bodies.

“Back at that night…you recognised that gun the phantom made. Is it special or something?” I know next to nothing about this world, so I might as well try and learn, if I’m being forced to live it.

Not like I want to live it, but I have to.

For Myrtle’s sake.

“Oh…well, Grim Reapers have a light veil - that smoky power. And we can use our veils to create weapons with which we fight spirits. But that phantom must have killed a Grim Reaper and copied its power,” The Reaper explains, avoiding looking at my soul.

“And? What aren’t you telling me?” I push.

The Reaper glances over at me, before letting out a small sigh. “The weapon is unique to the Reaper. Not in that only one Reaper can use a gun, but that specific gun - it belonged to someone I knew. That’s all.”

Frowning, I ask more questions before the Reaper can point out that I never answered his question when I said I would. “So what’s your weapon then? And why didn’t you use it against me, or against that phantom? It could’ve been helpful.”

The Reaper quirks an eyebrow up at me, pulling off one of his black gloves and letting a little of his white veil out. “This is my power. Most Reapers have a little veil that they can make into their weapon, but mine doesn’t make a weapon. Mine is the weapon.”

“I can’t tell if that is ridiculously over-powered or tragically underpowered.”

The Reaper lets out a small snort, shaking his head. “A little bit of both? It’s good for defensive stuff generally, or I can just attack with it, like that first time we met. But it’s also pretty limited - it can only be used for stuff like smoke attacks, so I can’t make it into a blade or a bullet or anything. I’ve found a way to work around it after dealing with it for - y’know, eternity, but I’m still figuring out how best to use it.”

Humming, I glance back over at the list of potential bodies for me to inhabit. I need a host this time, not a soulmate like Scilla.

“Alright, what about you then? Why do you particularly want a female body?”

Ugh, he remembered.

“It’s not that I want a female body, I just prefer looking to others like a woman. It’s hard to explain - somedays I feel more like- well, Jessica, but other days I lean towards being Jester. They’re both me, and I love feeling like them both, but some days I just…feel more masculine or feminine. I never feel like a man, and I never feel like a woman either. I always feel somewhere…in between, but even the intensity of that can vary.”

“I see. So you need a body that can…be both, I suppose. Someone androgynous?” The Reaper suggests, and I’m instantly taken aback by how easily he accepted my confession. 

“Yes, that would be preferable.”

“So will you tell me your name now then? Is it Jessica, or Jester?” He asks, tapping his finger on top of one profile. A biological male with soft, feminine facial features but with a sharp, angular jaw. He is clearly a man, but I could easily work with his appearance, and besides…he’s the best option we have right now.

Also, all his family is dead, so we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone wanting to talk to him once he miraculously wakes up.

“Just call me Jess.”

And finally…this body…the owner attempted suicide. And he isn’t waking up ever. He doesn’t want to. 

His soul won’t be there. It’s already gone; left him the moment he tried to take his own life.

The body is just…an empty casket. 

Perfect for me, in every way.