The whimpers and whines… she found them annoying, truly bothersome. Of course, she would never admit she felt pity. She kept a cold uncaring stance while an unnatural smoke manifested nearby.

“Took you long enough.”

Pain glared back at Death, ignoring the writhing of the dog at her feet. Blood had poured everywhere, both from her overflowing presence and the wounds of the animal. The man that had run over the mutt was screaming expletives at his phone, completely unaware that his calls for a vet were pointless.

Death neared slowly, giving her sister a calm yet contemplative stare. The words were voiced slowly, slightly taunting in their unemotional tone.

“I could have let you observe this anguish for much longer.” She neared Pain and the dog, looking down at it with unreadable void eyes. “Its heart will keep beating, even if only for a day at most.”

Pain scoffed, as always. She knew that Death was admiring the many immaterial hourglasses she could perceive, counting every second that passed.

“Just get it over with…”

Without reply, Death acknowledged Pain’s plea. She knelt by the animal, to then brush its fur with her pale fingers, in a gentle manner. Sooner than life would have allowed, those pained breaths stopped, one last wheeze bringing an end to the dog’s suffering.

Both sisters glanced at the nearby man, who noticed how the dog stopped squirming by the car’s wheel. They pitied how he cursed that fact, unknowing that there was nothing a vet could have done.

If Death brought an end to the suffering, it was not only for the faint care she felt in her cold still heart. Her void eyes fixated on Pain, noting well how she let out a sigh of relief, no longer tethered to this place. The next words made a lot of blood ripple, for there was anger in them.

“Sometimes I wish life was less generous, its strength scarcer.” Pain clenched a hand in front of her flaming eyes, hinting nothing but tired resent for what she witnessed daily. “Like a flame, a single blow required to erase it. No struggle, no pain.”

Death smiled, not needing to walk to follow Pain when she began to stride away through the empty road. She commented while she floated by her side, with her usual straightforward quietness.

“What would be of you without the burdens of life?”

Pain scowled, ignoring how Death gushed around her curiously, both blood and ashes interweaving on the ground.

“Never asked for this vexing tie.” Her flaming eyes moved at last, narrowing and piercing her void ones. “I hate that only you can free me from the most tortured beings. You could so easily end it all, yet you indulge in this absurd and pointless-“

“Watch your words, sister, or I shall reconsider my swift attendance to these distasteful moments. Each soul has a start and end, and I greatly respect those arranged schedules.”

Pain stopped walking, causing Death to stop as well with a sudden gust of her ashen form. There came the reproach, that bloody heart passionate in its anger, as always.

“Life is capricious; there is no plan, just the whims of luck. You love to pretend to be the most strict and dutiful, yet you indulge in your impulsive desires as well. The word senseless does not make honor to this façade I must partake in.” She truly hated the world and its hidden ways, so much that she could never bring herself to admit she cared deep inside. That was why she lashed verbally at everything, for she was a victim of her own discomfort. “If someone is going to perish without doubt, I expect you to take them quickly. The fewer fools I must near, the better.”

For a second, a mischievous smile seemed to grow on death’s pale lips, but it was something that no one could perceive. Pain raised a bloody eyebrow when her sister flowed in front of her, eyeing her up and down while inquiring in a way she loathed.

“You have not felt as drawn lately, have you?” Only the most intense of pains forced her to manifest herself fully, something that happened daily but not constantly. “Apart from some freak accidents, no calls from the local sick or wounded. Perhaps-“

Pain waved an arm and cut right through Death’s figure, pushing past her body of smoke with a silent snarl. As she reformed behind her trail of blood, resentful words flowed.

“If you really did visit that peculiar idiot and ended him, I will not thank you for it. He should have perished at that moment.”

Death smiled once more, subtly. Pain did not see her expression, and she was glad that she misunderstood the teasing of her words. Sometimes, her emotionless tonality was useful, capable of veiling facts for her own amusement.  

Pain dissipated into nothingness, her blood seeping into the earth. She was completely unaware of how Death pondered what could be. Her void eyes narrowed, curious as always about the living and their whims.

———————

 

A small pull, a faint call. They were a constant, too many to count. She ignored them all, allowing the blood that flowed from her hair to ripple endlessly towards those places. Her flaming heart kept beating, as fierce as the ones that endured the struggles life brought.

Apart from an instance in which a man stepped on a Lego brick, she was not forced to manifest herself in those quaint and tranquil neighborhoods. The ones who died in the hospitals did so near loved ones, eased towards death by numbing drugs.

Omnipresent, yet reluctant. All agony that occurred in the world, she had to oversee, without choice. She did not truly understand why her existence was needed for life to persevere; while she could inflict herself onto the living if she so wanted to, she never did. Pain came all on its own, without her say.

Her effects and aptitudes were brutal, in a way she loathed. Death felt allured as well, but she could always perceive the relief in the ones she attended. Her powers were much more meaningful, and of course, merciful.

There was envy in her flaming heart, yet she could not bring herself to hate her sister as much as she despised chance and life. She was not the one to spark the awful trials that the living had to withstand. Still…

“They call her cold, yet she is the one who most cares about their pitiful misery. Why must all suffer for the obsessions and crazes of-?”

She stopped striding, halting sharply in the void street. There were many figures around her, marching to attend their daily grievances, yet she stood between them like if they did not exist.

Her flaming eyes narrowed in dislike, but not because a man walked right through her. Once more, her heart began to pulse faintly at first, then strongly. It felt as if a chain would rip it out of her chest, the strain intensifying with each second.

She took a deep breath she did not need, to then glare at the distance. That new pull could be ignored. She could walk away; it was not strong enough, even if intense.

“Fine… Why not?”

If she neared, that horrible and bothersome sensation would fade, at least in her. Perhaps she would find amusement, maybe thanks to a fool hitting their toe against some furniture, or luck willing, another Lego brick.

There were too many calls, too many chains. Her ripples were truly infinite; acknowledging them all was extremely tiring. The only thing she could do was surrender and roam closer, incapable of escaping such sensations, which she did not cause.

————

 

He was a real fool; he was very aware of that fact. The words William spoke at the door an hour ago still felt bittersweet.

“Take care. I’ll be back once my shift is over.”

There was time, a lot of it. Yet it felt scarce, no matter if William could work until midnight sometimes. His anxiety was through the roof, and not only because he was doing something he would really disapprove of.

Things had taken a lot of time to go back to normal. It was a horrible pretense, one that he feigned for both at first, then for William’s sake. After seeing that… thing, he tried to forget, pretend it did not happen. But it did. He saw something come out of his mirror, and it spoke to him.

He really tried to keep it down and not think about it. William’s presence and constant attention helped a lot, but the memories nagged him deep inside. There was no way for him to explain what he saw; if the roles were reversed, he was sure he would not believe it. No, he would not make the only person to love him believe he was a madman.

There was no pain due to his wounds anymore, weeks passed. William’s worry faded, even if only slightly. On the other hand, his never did. He did a great job in hiding it, both due to care and fear.

“Alright… Come on.”

The weather was no longer as warm and welcoming. As autumn started, the cold seeped into town… and with it, he could wear more concealing clothes. He eyed the blood on his wrist carefully, focusing on the sting of the cut, which he inflicted willfully.

If William ever saw it, perhaps he would dump him. Honestly, he would deserve it, because he spent a lot of time in his apartment fretting over his wellbeing. It took a lot for him to feel comfortable again while working in the hospital, afraid of leaving him alone.

He was sorry for betraying his trust and efforts, he was. But he had to do this. If he was to go insane, at least he should do so without paranoia. He kept seeing blood, but all too faint to be a clear sign. That thing was out there, and he needed to confront it. Otherwise, he would lose his mind.

“Come on. I know I’m not imagining things.”

He glared angrily at the faucet, noting how the redness was more intense than other times. In the past weeks, in moments in which William was not around, he would pinch himself or hit his arms with enough force to bruise. But it was never enough. Blood did seep near, but no figure ever manifested itself.

Tired and frustrated, he kept recalling that pale face, and the words that flowed past those cold lips. Impulsively, it all brought him to this moment, in which he had grabbed a small kitchen knife and ran it along his skin. Now, his mind kept whispering a common saying.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Foolish, stupid, senseless. He knew he was those things. When Aldo hissed suddenly and jumped off from the sofa for the bedroom, he knew he was in for the trouble he sought after. If one called the devil enough, it would answer, or so they said.

His green eyes opened more due to dread, although his dangerous curiosity remained. The drip of the faucet stopped being rosy, to turn into a thick and bloody trickle. He tensed slowly, for the echo of that drop was not the only thing he heard. A cold sweat fell from his forehead, for the sound of flowing liquid filled his apartment. It did not come from the sink. The door of his bathroom was open, right behind him.

“What a fool…”

That was not his voice. He stayed very still while steps echoed. Whoever stood now in the corridor, they seemed to come from the bathroom, the shower. He wanted to move, but he found himself frozen as that figure crept through his living room towards him.

It’s real.

That fearful affirmation was accompanied by a mental curse. There was no mirror by the kitchen counter, so the only hint he could see of that figure being there was the big shadow that began to loom over him.

She was now right behind him, staring at him with a gaze he could feel even if he could not see it. Her voice was flaming, condescending, and mocking.

“Granted a healthy life, still young and without need of pain, and he decides to wound himself. Inefficiently, I must say, for it will only force him to try again, suffer once more.” There was a scoff as she leaned away in disdain, a comment meant for herself. “What an idiot.”

He gulped, noticing the fact that she did not seem to know he could hear or sense her. She could only see his back, and her interest did not seem very attentive. While he stood still and held his breath, she began to eye his apartment, surely judging his life choices.

The choice he made next was risky, yet he found himself doing it nonetheless. All ever slowly, he leaned to turn and look at her, keeping quiet. At first, she just gave him an uncaring glance and kept examining his living room, but her expression soon twisted.

Their eyes met more clearly, more intently. Her flaming eyes stopped glaring, opening more when she noticed that his blank lost stare was far too intent to be the one of a suicidal man. Her lips parted slightly as she realized he was looking right at her.

Pain took a step sideways. She did not bother taking another one, seeing how his eyes followed that move. While her sister commented on the fact that he could see her, she reflected on another detail instead. She remembered him, much to her angered surprise.

“You are that lucky bastard.”

Pain heard many expletives daily, multiple curses and insults. Few could ever hear her express them, and that was why she flinched when he pointed at her, huffing in gratified but shocked relief.

“I knew it…! Fucking knew it!”

Pain made a face, startled by how he took a step closer. Only her ripples of blood prevented Connor from nearing more, his brash curiosity very dangerous.

“She really did not take you. Mischievous imp, how dare she-?”

“She!” He smirked and chuckled with a gasp, throwing a hand onto his head. “Death! You are what she-”

Pain stood tall, pushing aside her bafflement to glare him down. He recoiled at last, noting how her eyes seemed to turn even redder, her pupils reflecting a fire that he could not see in the room.

“Do not voice her name, human, or I shall make you meet her.” Her hair grew longer, engulfing her torso while she threatened. “Ah, pondering over the sensations that have crept through me these past weeks… You’ve been trying to lure me here, haven’t you?! Why can you see me?! And most important, why do you wish to suffer?!”

He stumbled slightly while he stepped back away from her, her faint approach causing the sting in his wrist to intensify. Still, he did not show the same fear he showed for death. His next words were cautious, but brave in their wonder.

“The only thing I want is to know what the hell is going on! I have no idea why I can see you two, and if I have been trying to lure you, is for you to explain!”

She moved her head up to sneer at him, apparently growing in size as she did so. Her black robes were now completely red, her hair staining them due to her increasing annoyance.

“How dare you raise your tone, you insignificant animal? If Death, who is much wiser than I, didn’t have an answer, how can you expect Pain to offer a reason for your odd experience?!”

His mouth opened, then he shook his head, cornered yet offended by her words.

“Y-you call me odd?!” He laughed nervously, noting how she was looming over him like her shadow did not long ago. “You are the weird thing in this room, not I! I have no idea what you are, nor why this is happening to me! Your blood keeps spilling all around me, and honestly, it is very hard to keep ignoring!”

That last word, he should have not said it. Pain tensed, her disdainful stance turning into a direct resentful one. Her hands clenched, her teeth seeming to sharpen in her mouth as she scowled. He soon felt the same fear Death inflicted when she snarled, somehow losing most of her humans traits. Where there was a feminine figure, now stood a bloody shadow that seemed to gain the traits of multiple feral animals.

“Ignore?” Her voice, like death’s, seemed to come from his very mind. But now there was no doubt that it rumbled from her mouth, her bloody fangs shivering while she growled. “You think it has been hard to ignore whatever insignificant pain you’ve felt? No, you ignore what real endurance is, little man. Let me show you a small trace of what I must sustain due to humanity’s foolish ignorance. You all stumble about, unafraid of the many dangers that could bring you anguish in a second. Crossing the street without looking, holding a pot of boiling water loosely, smoking and drinking… playing with knives; things like those draw me closer, and honestly, it is all ever tiring and bothersome. A real pain!”

He had closed his eyes, because she had raised a bloody hand over him, clenched in a stance that hinted she would claw down at him. A few seconds passed, she was quiet, yet no hit or touch came.

He was very reluctant to open his eyes, because the cut on his wrist began to burn when she inched closer to strike him. It truly hurt… but the feeling began to fade. That made him peek, staying still just in case.

Pain was glaring down at him, with her hand still raised up over him. However, her expression had softened into a disapproving judging scowl, instead of a hateful sneer. Her flaming eyes unsharpened gradually, her features growing more human, like if they had always been. When she spoke, she did so with a sigh, which sounded all too tired and resigned.

“What sense does it make to torture you?” She lowered her hand and flowed away slowly like death would, following the sudden current of blood on the floor. “You survived that crash, and my sister has spared you. It does not matter why or how; you will keep on living, only to suffer. Life is painful, and that is misery enough.”

With those cynical words, she turned around to face the corridor again. He panted there, holding his burning cut while she re-entered the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and glared back at him, whispering one last sad threat before seeping away into nothingness.

“Be careful, for I don’t wish to see you again. If I do, it better be for a good reason.” There came the sad growl, in which he distinguished faint sympathy. “Remember, I’ll make you regret picking up a knife again.”

He said nothing as she disappeared, leaving him to stare with apprehensive wonder. Like death, she could have touched him… yet she didn’t.