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The wooden door creaked softly as a bloodied hand pushed it open. Two Time stumbled through the doorway, their other hand tightly gripping the handle of a blood-soaked dagger.
The dagger that had been buried in Azure’s chest only hours before.
Quietly nudging the door shut behind them, Two Time instantly crumpled down to the floor, hands roughly hitting the ground with a soft thump.
They wanted to cry. They really did.
…But why weren’t the tears coming?
Hours earlier, in a beautiful patch of nightshades, the two had been laughing carelessly, free like the wind itself. However, internally, Two Time had been conflicted down to their core. The dagger had pressed cold into their side, condemning them to an act they had not yet committed.
Then, when his back was turned, the cultist had unsheathed the weapon and…
Splat! Blood that was never theirs dripped off of their trembling hands onto the wooden floorboards, seeping into the grain. A stain that would never be removed.
Finally, they felt the cold tears slide down their cheeks, clouding their eyes before falling in large, heavy drops. The dagger clattered to the ground, slipping from their hands that were now clasped in prayer.
“Dear Spawn,” Two Time whispered, “I-I have completed the deed. Please, bring him back, as holy and glorious as what he deserves.”
Kneeling on the cold hardwood floor, they prayed, cried, even begged as red pooled off of their clothes and dried to an ugly brown. Finally, when no one responded, Two Time stopped praying.
Eyes black and dead to any reason, the cultist finally pushed themselves off the ground, a trembling hand picking up the dagger.
“Then…if they are unworthy of your precious gift of respawn, I shall fall to hell to join him, and see if I am worthy of your blessings. Thank you, Spawn, for granting us this opportunity.”
Driving the dagger straight into their heart, Two Time choked on the blood welling up in their throat. They crumpled to the ground once again, but this time, never to get up.