Chapter 46: The Thing Called Pain
The rain poured heavily, soaking through Alex’s clothes, but he barely noticed. His hands, caked in mud, worked tirelessly, shoveling the wet earth aside. Each movement was slow, deliberate—each handful of dirt a weight pressing against his chest.
Elizabeth lay beside him, motionless.
The night was dark, the only light coming from the occasional flicker of lightning splitting the sky. Thunder rumbled overhead, a distant echo of the storm raging inside him. His breath came in shallow gasps as exhaustion clawed at his limbs, but he didn’t stop. Not until she was buried.
Alex barely felt the cold wind cutting through his soaked clothes. His fingers trembled, raw and aching from digging, but he forced them to keep moving. The hole wasn’t deep enough yet, deep enough to put her in.
His mind replayed the moments when she was still the Elizabeth he had known right from day one, the sharpness in her eyes, the night they slept together, the warmth of her body pressing against his... He couldn’t forget then as much as he wanted.
Even the way she had always carried herself with defiance, even when she was backed into a corner.
Now she lay still, her once-lively presence reduced to an empty shell. Something inside him twisted painfully at the thought.
The rain made the dirt heavy, clinging to his fingers as he worked. His breathing was uneven, his body protesting every movement, but he pushed through. A part of him wished he could feel numb, but he wasn’t. He was painfully, bitterly aware of everything. The weight of grief crushed him, heavier than the storm clouds above.
Finally, the grave was deep enough. He sat back for a moment, shoulders slumped, rainwater dripping from his hair. His hands curled into fists. He had no words to say. What was there to say? She had always hated being controlled, always fought against the forces trying to dictate her life. And now—now she was here, silent, powerless against the inevitable.
His fingers brushed against the edge of her sleeve before he finally moved her into the grave. His breath hitched. This was wrong, all of it was wrong.
With a shuddering breath, he grabbed a handful of dirt and let it slip from his fingers onto her still form. It felt like a betrayal. He wanted to stop, wanted to rewind time, to find another way, but reality was unforgiving. The world didn’t care for regrets.
More dirt followed. Then more and more. His vision blurred, but he kept going. The more he buried her, the more the weight in his chest grew until he felt like he would collapse under it.
By the time the grave was filled, Alex could barely breathe. He sat there for a long time, staring at the freshly turned earth. The rain washed away the evidence of his work, leaving nothing but the cold, empty grave behind.
There were no gravestones, no flowers. Just silence.
Alex rose unsteadily, his body sluggish from exhaustion and grief. The wind howled through the graveyard, chilling him to the bone, but he didn’t care. He turned, stepping away from the grave with slow, heavy steps.
Leaving her behind felt impossible. But staying here wasn’t an option.
His house was a long walk away, and his body protested with every movement. Each step felt heavier than the last, his clothes weighed down with rain and mud. The world felt distant, like he was walking through a dream—or a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.
By the time he reached his home, dawn was beginning to break. Pale light crept over the horizon, casting long shadows on the walls. He stood at his door, hesitating. Inside was warmth, shelter, but it felt... foreign. Like he no longer belonged here.
Still, he stepped inside. The door shut behind him with a soft click, sealing him away from the outside world.
But no matter how far he walked, he couldn’t leave the weight of the grave behind. Elizabeth was gone, gone for good and there was no way of bringing he back.
This was his fault — Yes, it was because if he hadn’t brought her back, she wouldn’t have ended up being a monster.
He could have just accepted her death the initial time.
"Damn it!" He growled, slamming his fist on the table.
Just then Peter, his friend walked into the house and seeing Alex in that state, felt guilty.
He was the genesis of everything — the idea of bringing Elizabeth back was his to begin with so he was the one who caused everything.
"Man, I’m really sorry for everything," he mumbled to Alex. "This is all my fault. If I hadn’t brought up the idea of bringing her back to life, none of this would have happened, I am really sorry."
Alex didn’t respond immediately. He stood there, fists clenched, his jaw tight. The storm outside had passed, but the one inside him was still raging. He could feel the anger, the regret, the suffocating guilt clawing at him. He wanted to blame Peter, to throw every ounce of his grief at him—but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew the truth.
He had agreed to it.
He had been desperate enough to try.
And now, Elizabeth was gone, not once but twice.
"It doesn’t matter anymore," he finally muttered, his voice hoarse. "She’s dead. And this time, she’s not coming back."
Peter looked down, ashamed. "I never wanted this, man. I just—I thought we could save her. I thought... I was doing the right thing."
Alex exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. "We played god, Peter. And we lost."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding. Neither knew what to say. There was no way to fix what had been done.
After a long pause, Alex turned away. "Just leave me alone for now."
Peter hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. But if you need anything... you know where to find me."
He walked toward the door, pausing for just a moment before stepping out into the morning light. The door shut softly behind him, leaving Alex alone with his thoughts, his regrets, and the weight of the grave he had left behind.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours and Alex sat down on the couch, his eyes fixed on some point in front of him, his mind a thousand miles away. The silence in the room was oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the house. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, his gaze frozen in a mixture of grief and regret.
Hours ticked by, the sun climbing higher in the sky, casting a pale light over the room. Alex didn’t notice. He was lost in his thoughts, reliving the moments he’d shared with Elizabeth, the laughter, the tears, the arguments. He remembered the way she used to smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy.
His mind was a jumble of emotions, each one tangled with the next. Guilt, anger, sadness, regret—they all swirled together, creating a toxic stew that threatened to consume him. He felt like he was drowning, suffocating under the weight of his grief.
The room grew darker, the sun dipping below the horizon. Alex didn’t move, didn’t react. He was frozen in time, trapped in his own personal hell. The shadows deepened, the silence grew thicker, and still, Alex sat, lost in his thoughts, lost in his grief.
Then after what seemed like a forever, he got up and left the house once more.
He dragged his feet across the streets, his eyes scanning for something in particular and when he finally spotted what he was looking for, he headed over to the place.
A Portal.
Alex stepped through the portal without hesitation, the swirling energy wrapping around him like icy tendrils. The air shifted, thickening with an unnatural pressure as the world around him bled into something else.
The moment his feet touched solid ground, he knew he was no longer anywhere near the world he once knew.
He stood in a vast chamber, the walls carved from a black stone that seemed to absorb the dim, flickering light emanating from eerie blue flames lining the room. Massive pillars stretched toward an impossibly high ceiling, the architecture ancient and foreboding. The scent of something metallic—blood, perhaps lingered in the air, sending a chill down his spine.
At the far end of the chamber, seated upon an imposing throne of obsidian, was a figure clad in dark armor. The armor was massive, etched with intricate patterns that pulsed faintly, as if alive with some unseen power. The figure’s face was obscured by a jagged helm, the visor revealing only two piercing, glowing eyes—cold and unfeeling.
A silence hung between them, stretching, suffocating for a while. Then, the figure shifted ever so slightly, the metal of its armor groaning under its weight. When it finally spoke, its voice echoed through the chamber, low and commanding.
"You are not the first to step into my domain seeking absolution, nor will you be the last."
Alex clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He wasn’t here for absolution. He was here for something else entirely.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice steadier than he felt.
The armored figure leaned forward slightly. "The question, boy, is not who I am, but rather what you have come here to seek."
Alex took a slow step forward, ignoring the way the ground beneath him seemed to pulse with something alive. His mind was a storm of emotions—grief, guilt, anger, and something deeper, something desperate.
"Power," he finally said. "I want power."
The figure remained still for a moment, as if weighing his words. Then, a deep chuckle rumbled through the chamber, low and knowing. "Ah... Power. A desire as old as time itself. And yet, those who seek it rarely understand its price."
Alex’s jaw tightened. He didn’t care about the cost. He had already lost too much.
"I am willing to pay," he said firmly.
The figure tilted its head slightly. "Very well. Then step forward and learn what it means to bargain with the abyss."
Alex hesitated for only a fraction of a second before he moved forward, toward the throne.
The closer he got, the more the air around him seemed to hum with energy, his skin tingling as though unseen hands brushed against him. The armored figure lifted one gauntleted hand, and suddenly the ground beneath Alex vanished. He plummeted into an endless void, darkness swallowing him whole.
A voice, deep and ancient, whispered around him. "Your grief makes you reckless, your sorrow makes you desperate. But power does not fill voids, it only deepens them."
Alex clenched his teeth. "Spare me the lectures. Just tell me what I need to do."
Laughter echoed in the abyss, low and mocking. "Then let us see if you are worthy."
A force slammed into Alex, sending pain lancing through his body. Shadows twisted around him, solidifying into monstrous forms—hulking beasts with jagged claws and hollow, soulless eyes. They lunged at him.
Alex barely had time to react. He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding a swipe aimed at his throat. His instincts took over. Enhanced strength and reflexes kicked in as he ducked under another strike and countered with a brutal punch to one creature’s head. It shattered like glass, but another took its place instantly.
They kept coming toward him in groups and Alex fought with everything he had, his body pushed to its limit. His fists tore through them, but they reformed, shadows reshaping and lunging again. His muscles screamed in protest, exhaustion creeping in fast.
Then, just as he felt his strength wane, something shifted.
The abyss responded.
Dark energy curled around him, seeping into his skin, whispering promises of strength, of power beyond imagination. He felt the shadows bending to his will, their hunger aligning with his own.
And in that moment, Alex understood.
This was not a test of combat. It was a test of control.
He stopped fighting. Instead, he reached out, let the shadows sink into him, let them become an extension of himself. The creatures froze mid-attack, their hollow eyes now mirroring his own. A heartbeat later, they bowed.
The voice from before returned, pleased. "Good."
The void collapsed around him, and suddenly he was back in the throne room, standing before the armored figure. The air crackled with the power now coursing through him.
The figure regarded him for a long moment before finally speaking. "You have taken the first step. But power demands more than willingness, it demands sacrifice. Are you prepared to give what is required?"
Alex didn’t hesitate. "Yes."
The figure nodded. "Then go forth, good luck."
The portal behind Alex flared to life once more, and he stepped through, returning to the world he had left behind.
