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Party Poison was swimming in and out of consciousness. He didn’t feel real. He felt lost and scared and cold and alone and surrounded and empty and dead and alive and desperate.
All he could hear were distinct sobs, too loud in his hurting ears, and the pained words, “I didn’t mean to,” being repeated over and over like a prayer.
The voice sounded awfully familiar…
Destroya, Party’s arm hurt. More than it had when he passed out for the first time. What had happened to it?
“Party, I’m sorry,” the voice said, cutting through the haze. “He just kept telling me to do it again and again and I think I cut too deep and fuck they’ll save you won’t they? They have to save you, right?”
“Au contraire, Fun Ghoul,” came the deep voice of Korse. “You two have served your purposes. There’s no need to keep him alive anymore. You may say your final goodbyes now.”
Goodbyes?
Was he dying?
Surely, dying would be worse, wouldn't it? He’d be panicking and hyperventilating and clawing desperately at the remaining dregs of his life, right?
Instead, Party Poison just felt calm. A wonderful, gentle calm that laid itself over him softly, like a blanket.
Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad. It would bring about welcome freedom, anyways. He wouldn’t have to worry about BLI or Korse or the Director in the afterlife. The Phoenix Witch would make sure of it.
He still had no idea how the soul bond was supposed to be a gift. He guessed they were supposed to have more time to figure it out, realize its meaning and use it to their advantage.
But Better Living Industries had cut that time short.
Party simply wished he could apologize to Jet and Kobra for abandoning them. He hoped they would be okay on their own. It wasn’t fair to leave them like this.
Maybe they could find the solution, and finally put a stop to BL/ind. They were two amazing people who he loved so much.
They would find a way.
With his final remains of life, Party forced his chapped lips apart, whispering three final words that he prayed Ghoul could hear.
“I forgive you.”
And then, with a rasping, dying breath, he was gone.