Daybringer, Lightbreaker, Shadowmaker

"Holy mother of god!" I bolted. My head spun as my legs collapsed. I fell smack on the floor, tangled in blankets.

He peered down at me with a doctor's appraisal. "You're weak from yesterday's ordeal." Gently, he lifted me up. "Now you're as pale as me," he mused, placing me on the bed.

I jibbered.

"Sphinx got your tongue?"

He returned to the paper and devoured his breakfast. I writhed internally, silent for half an hour. He stroked my hair affectionately like I was a chihuahua on sedatives. Finally, I regained my bark.

"I'm in Hell. With you. The psychotic demon. My daily tormentor. The Angel of Death. You?" I glanced at the plate in his lap. I cringed at the events of yesterday. "Oh my god, what did I do?" I traced the scar that puckered on my breast.

Samael guided my hand away. "It means nothing," he said quickly.

"Nothing!"

"I had a moment of weakness." He lounged next to me. His implements shone with faint light.

"You were mad, Samael." The tools on his belt jangled against the sheets. Their alien shapes were beyond human medicine.

He toyed with the scalpel's wicked curve. "Don't build yourself into a state."

"You raised me from the dead when I was Eve! Tell me." I paused, clenching the covers. I swallowed a stone in my throat. "What is it that I've done?"

He stared at the ceiling, head sunk in the pillow. "Forged a pact with a monster." He cradled his hands round mine. "You've slept for days, you know. Beautiful and peaceful, like Snow White on her grave. I have kept watch over you all this time. You say the sweetest things when you dream. Shall I tell you a bedtime story, maggot?"

I glowered. He took that as yes.

"There was a beast that devoured maidens. He lived alone in the woods. One night, a girl found his dwelling, while the moon hung high above. Back then, things lived by its light. The moon called the beast from his slumber. Hungered, he went hunting for souls. The girl strayed from her village. Lost, she slept in his bed."

"The moon pitied the sleeping girl. It hid its light, knowing the beast would eat her. The monster howled. He smelled but could not see her; so blinded, he returned. Not knowing he lay beside her, the beast stripped of his hide. The girl slept beside him, dreaming. Each wanted the impossible. He dreamt restlessly of hearts. She prayed for an escape. The beast would eat her, come morning. The sun's light fell on their bed; it charred his naked skin."

"That's supposed to make me feel less nauseous?" My stomach ached dully. His omelet was looking really good.

"He saw her beauty and trembled. The monster's hunger burned-

"Oh god, this is becoming a romance novel." Somehow in the interim, Samael had managed to spoon me. He smoothed the blanket over my side.

" But then he saw her in the light. His prey, once flesh, became holy to him." He threaded a finger through my hair. I drummed my fingers on the bed, uncomfortable. His breath skimmed my neck, turning skin to gooseflesh. "For once in his wretched existence, the creature of night country was scared."

"So what's the point?" My stomach rumbled. "I'm hungry."

He fastened his arms round my waist. Samael's lips skimmed my shoulder. "I am the beast that devours maidens," he murmured. I felt his scalpel through his pocket, pressing into my hip. "Hit me, gutless girl. I deserve it."

"Give me your omelet and we'll call it even."

He obliged. I propped myself against the cushions. The plate trembled in my hands. "Damn it!" I cursed, dropping it. Samael steadied me.

"Take it easy. You're weak."

"I don't care! I can't even do the simplest, stupid thing." I pushed his arms away.

"Strike me, then."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you'll never change." I sank into the oblivion of the pillows. He tried to fork bits of omelet into my mouth. I pursed my lips in refusal. Samael relented.

"I won't," he mused, "will I?" He tore the paper to methodical shreds. "You're stuck with the bastard that's me." Samael blew snowflakes of paper onto my cheek. I sneezed.

"Leave me alone."

"So you're not going to fight me? Where is your hatred? Your wrath?" He asked as if he wanted to be punished.

"It's not worth it. I knew you were psychotic, Samael. But I never thought you were weak. Now I know better." I turned from him. "You shouldn't stab blind men in the back."

He looked out at the dimness of the room. I could see nothing beyond the bed, only feel slight currents of wind with the smell something sweet.

"God made you more beautiful than us," he said quietly. "We would never be so forgiving." He stared at my heart, eyes empty. "You should run, human girl."

"To where, Samael? Every damn path leads to you. In the end, I end up dead."

"Don't cheapen your life," he warned. He was like a glacier on the verge of collapse. Samael bent over me, precarious. "You can't rush the business of death. There are rules in chess for kings. Allow me to elaborate, worm. You were too lovely. Too trusting. I kill lies. I couldn't allow that."

The hilt of his scalpel flashed.

"Look at me!" he begged. "I am blindness. Severity. The kill. My medicine heals and wounds. It burns out the black infection. I have destroyed the rot in you: your delusions about me are gone. I am legion, Shannon. Death. If you trust me, then by the ash of my Father, I am wicked indeed."

The blade's reflection cut at my mind. "You tortured me." I felt trapped in that dark hall again, imprisoned by glass and mirrors. In the serpent's coils.

"Did I?"

"Why?"

"Because you did not look away. You think you could go untainted, once you saw my stain? Knowledge is paid in blood. I claimed my price: I broke you. But now, the pain is over." He kissed my forehead, chaste. "My little acolyte. Now, you can truly serve me."

His madness twisted my gut. "Serve you? I'll never serve you! I'm not your altar girl."

He bit his lip. "Your soul tastes pure. Like the waters of life. When it filled me, I almost lost it." Something danced on his cheek. A tear? Oh god, please. He had no right to be suffering. "Flow with me, Shannon- rage with me. My torch is cast downwards. But who is the moth?"

"You're speaking in tongues, Samael." The air around us began to burn. Dry wind rattled the bed. The desert heat made salt from his tears.

"Like Apollo his Cassandra, I've spit poison in your mouth and cursed you." His face suddenly looked older: lined with suffering. His cheeks were sunk with burden. A weary stillness washed across him. It was a face that could lead you to Hell.

"Words. The words fail. What I touch breaks. You broke. I've fixed you. You drank my gall, girl, but it was not your time. You are bound to me now. You will dream with me, lust with me, rage with me. By your will, I would raise the dead. It is not in my power to deny you."

"So basically, you're my bitch now?" My mind reeled.

"Everything I am is yours."

"But I don't want to control death! I don't want to see dead people, Sam. You have the shittiest job in the world. I don't want this necromantic crap."

"Which is why I can stake my claim freely. You will never dare take yours."

"What do you want from me?" I asked, horrified.

"To bear witness to me. You've seen the worst of me, borne my marks. Felt my pain and understood me. I cannot waste you, Shannon. If we are not friends, then you must bear me."

The truth clubbed me like an ax. "You're lonely, Samael."

"In a sense, yes." He turned his stone face from me. "It was so cold, where I fell." Samael shuddered. He cracked like an abandoned cathedral. "Even now, I freeze." He burrowed into the covers. "Each dawn, it's the same again. I burn with the cold. I die." A shaft of sunlight pierced the room. He cried out. "It burns. But you're so warm," he murmured. His skin began to smoke. My neck was wet with his tears. "My god, how I have missed you. My temple. My joy." Waves of presence undulated through me. "So soft, sweet. You're just as I remembered."

The entirety of death encompassed me. "You're crushing me" My vision fled; it felt like he was trying to wring salvation from me. Once again, I was the Reaper's chew toy.

"I have no tribe. No nation." His teeth scraped against my skin, like a worm trying to burrow into the dirt. He moaned: "Home. I have never forgotten you, girl. Don't you know that it has been ages? Yet still, you are so young."

"Samael, I don't understand. I'm not your home-" I gasped. My head swam. I saw psychedelic stars. Waves of warmth engulfed me, probing my insides as if trying to decipher my soul. I zoned out, sedated. I began to drool. The sensation intensified until I couldn't form a coherent thought. Finally, it relented. "What was that? What are you doing?"

"It's Communion," he whispered. "You fit like a glove. " He opened his eyes. They pinned my soul like a butterfly. His lips were dry and cracked, his cheeks had sunk into hollows. "A part of me is hidden within you."

"Great," I lamented. "I'm a Horcrux. Once again, you're Voldemort."

"Don't you know?" He kissed my chest. "There are bitter waters I tread. You have a balming effect. I poison, you the salve. My salvation."

Whatever place he was bound for, I knew he was dragging me with him. "What am I supposed to be now? Your refrigerator? Your Vaseline? You can't do this, Samael-"

"It was done long before you knew." His breaths became ragged. His face contorted in pain- the sunlight was charring his skin. He spoke quickly, in fervor: "Vaseline. Vessel. Vassel. All are one and the same. Quick, love- I'm simmering! Heal me. I won't burn you at the stake like poor Joan. I don't have Michael's practicality. But you will burn, girl, with me."

"God save us"

"Would you give me your heart? I collect organs." He rested his head on my breast, drinking in its beat. "Just like a caged bird," he sang. "I'd hang it in my window and sing to it. I could break open your ribs and set it free. Then there'd be no division between us."

"Never. That's madness."

"Of course. I would not have you whore your soul." Salt rimed his eyes. It looked like he was made of desert sand. "Can't you see?" he pleaded, his voice heavy like the wasteland. "I'm back there, Shannon. Burning. You know what it feels like."

"No, I don't." I rebelled. It was futile. Samael crushed me against him, holding on for dear life. It seemed to have become a theme as of late. The sea of his consciousness drowned me. He burrowed into my mind; bits of his essence slipped under my skin. I reeled from the overload. My nerves swarmed like locusts. His flesh was hot and feverish. He cried out against my throat:

"Stay with me! I'll sleep in you. Be my tomb. My tomb."

I was holding a man on fire.

"You're my urn. I'm ashes now. Let me into your darkness, child. I'll scatter through your blood, like the wind."

He reached into me, wrapped around my heart like a constrictor. The snake whispered to my soul. He meant to take me with him.

"Promise you won't let go."

"Promise that you'll remember me."

I'd promised it long ago.

And then, like a banshee, he screamed.

I witnessed his daily torture. Each morning, Samael fell. His shrieks heralded the rising sun.