The freezing water rushed over my body as my nails buried themselves in the sand—weakly crawling away from the current's cold embrace.
My clothes stuck to my skin like ice while I slid my torso against the beach, wincing as the ocean clawed at my gaping leg wound. Pain bit through my confusion as I fought my way to safety.
After escaping the tides, I laid against the cold sand taking deep greedy breaths as I stared at the moon.
Questions swirled relentlessly in my mind. Where am I? How the hell did I end up in the ocean?
As I tried to piece together my fragmented thoughts, a sharp pain pounded in my head. I gasped as memories flooded into my thoughts at a cataclysmic speed.
The flames, the knife, my death—the new information cut through the haze with relentless precision.
I'd died? The words felt alien and wrong.
No matter how hard I tried to fit the pieces of this crudely shaped puzzle, no bigger picture came together.
In other words, I had no answers for what the ever loving fuck was going on.
Just as I was about to seriously pick apart my sanity, a meow sound came from my left. I slowly turned my head to a black cat with eyes that eerily glowed yellow against the night.
It tilted its head, "You must be confused," a female voice rang out.
My eyes widened to saucers, "Y-you just…" I sputtered.
"Hmm I thought this form might be comforting," she said, leisurely walking around me, "I guess I've made a mistake."
I could do nothing but gape like a fish at this talking cat parading around like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Let me heal this leg for you child so we may speak comfortably," she said, gently laying her paw on my gash.
A faint golden light sparked from its touch. I felt a comforting heat spread from her paw, and to my shock, my skin began stitching itself together.
"Okay okay okay," I breathed incredulously, "So talking healing cat…" I let out a small laugh at my own words.
"Can you tell me where I am? Did I die? Are you god?"
"Hmm I suppose I am a god," she said blinking, "And yes you did die or more accurately, you were murdered."
"Then why…?"
"Are you alive?" She chuckled softly, "You were just so…lovely. I thoroughly enjoyed your little oath of vengeance," her tail swayed back and forth melodically.
"So I have given you a chance to play it out," she said, a smile in her voice.
"…Play what out?" I asked dumbly.
"Your revenge," she whispered, "I have dominion over stories and can draw them into existence," she began sauntering around my body like a predator.
"I have taken your souls before they fell to the underworld and gave them a new home, a new story," excitement was building in her voice, "I've taken the most recent story that you've read and placed each of your souls into a character," she crouched, as if setting up to pounce.
I was frozen, barely breathing as each word ate at my soul. I could barely register that I was shaking.
"You are the villainous Rat Queen and dear Cam…is the hero Solace," she said gleefully, lunging a foot away from my face.
"…What on earth," I managed below my breath. The story that I read before I died was a poorly written superhero novel that gained a large fanbase.
"You can take your revenge here my love. Cam will have no memories of your past lives so he will be blissfully ignorant to your plans," she said, her voice sinking back to a chilling calm, "Don't worry, his memories will come back right on the cusp of death."
"But alas in my enthusiasm I shouldn't forget to warn you of the rules," she sighed, "Stories I bring to life are sacred but fragile. You mustn't interfere with the main events of the story, but besides that," the cat grinned like a human, "You can do whatever, kill whoever."
The cat shaped god began outlining the events methodically one by one. I just lay against the sand in an almost hypnotic state—trying to wrap my head around the mind-bending situation I'd now found myself in.
"…and that should be it I suppose," she said as if bored her own speech.
"Why?" I asked finally, "Why are you doing this ?"
"Why else? For my own enjoyment," she snickered, "What will you do? Will you still kill a good man? How will you make a mess of the story? How will you make a mess of yourself?" Her questions felt like they were wrapping around my neck like a noose.
"So please," her glowing eyes looked down into mine, "entertain me."
Following that cryptic demand, she vanished into thin air like she'd never even existed in the first place.
After what felt like a small eternity of laying in silence, I forced my weakened body to my feet. The air felt like an assault on my deathly cold skin. I bit my lip at the prickling sensation.
I stood for a few seconds in quiet contemplation of the recent events. I was overwhelmed, deathly cold, and utterly confused.
Before I could stitch together rational thoughts, I made the rash decision to open my mouth and screech like a banshee. My voice tore through the sky as I let out my frustration cathartically rip into this new world.
After a while of abusing my vocal cords, I stood dazed, panting from the effort.
Then a male voice abruptly shouted from behind, "Is that you Enya, holy shit are you alright?"