Chapter Text
No one tells you that the cold burns. Maybe they don’t really know. Maybe they’ve never been so cold that they feel like their entire being is on fire, the stinging sensation seeping into the surface of their skin, layer by layer, until there’s nothing left but singed ashes.
Owen could feel it inside of himself, always trying to claw out of his chest. Its icy tendrils wound so tightly through his pierced heart, making it’s sluggish way through the dead veins. He sometimes wondered how no one else could see the frosty patterns dancing across his skin. Sometimes he would admire the beauty of the tiny crystals, but he still tried to scrape it off. It burned. And the only way to really get rid of the frozen ice lodged in his skin was to turn the burning outwards.
He died and he was still cold. He thought it would be hot and burning and endless pain. He thought he would be with Louis. That they would be together and they would be warm, even if it hurt. But the dirt pressed around him was cold, just like the inside of him. He hated it.
The stab of hunger lanced through him, propelling his body upwards against his will. Anger boiled up all over again as his clawless hands scraped through the ground and he barely had the patience to wipe the dirt and ice off of his skin when he reached the surface. He glanced at the ruins of the tower that he had laid under before he sighed and turned away, leaving it behind. He walked to the cliff edge, looking out over the forest.
“So this is hell. Should’ve known it would be the place that I hated most. But I suppose as long as Louis is here, we could still make something of this.”
He slowly made his way down towards town, obliterating any animals that stood in the way. By the lake waters edge, he paused in surprise. Across from him on the other side by the tower, were Pyro and Pearl. They had seen him and were waving in a friendly gesture.
“What the…” He murmured aloud, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Pyro had lost the pure white hair, black sclera, and holy water burns that Owen had gotten used to seeing. He had almost forgotten what the man had looked like before. “They’re here too? Pyro I understand, but Pearl? I wonder what she did to deserve this. And Pyro looks almost human again.” Owen peered down into the rippling lake surface, but as usual he couldn’t see his reflection looking back. Even without seeing himself, he could tell that the vampiric nature inside him was no longer visible to others, as his hair had been returned to its former brown.
“Hello?” Pearl called out at the same time that Pyro called, “Sir?”
She and Pyro pulled themselves from the water, dripping wet, to greet him.
Owen stepped back several paces, “Hello. The water looks a bit cold to be swimming through it like that.”
Pyro nodded, “It’s a bit murky, too.”
Pearl shrugged, “Oh, I thought it was refreshing.” She spun around, flicking water off her in every direction.
Stepping further away from the water spattering from the woman, Owen asked, “What are you two doing here?” He was mostly looking for an answer from Pearl. He knew well enough what Pyro had done, after all.
Pyro didn’t seem to understand the question and instead pointed back where they’d come from “We were checking out that tower over there, it looks all- all- it’s so interesting.”
“Yeah!” Pearl chimed in.
All three of them looked at the tower in the middle of the lake.
“It does look… peculiar…” Owen squinted at them both, suddenly feeling like the conversation was very familiar to him.
Pearl walked back to the water, “I’ve already found some weird, like, dungeon thing. And I got a Smite One book. I don’t know what the significance of that is, but I found it. So.”
“Oh, interesting.” Owen didn’t even try to sound interested. This was starting to get weird.
“And it kind of looks like there’s another one over there.” She pointed up past the tower to where Owen could just barely see the glimmer of light peeking above the trees, a guide to show where the dead were buried.
Pyro nodded, “Yeah, up on the hill. We were both on the way to Oakhurst, but we’ve suddenly become enraptured by the sights and sounds of the place.”
“Oakhurst.” Owen took another step back, “Yeah, I don’t really want to go back there, to be perfectly honest.”
She cocked her head to the side, taking a step closer, “Really? Why not?”
The open eagerness glimmering in her eyes caused bile to rise in Owen’s throat, and he had to choke back the wave of disgust that threatened to vomit itself out of him. What, did she not remember what happened before they died?
Owen glowered at her, “I just don’t think anyone there will really want to see me.”
And it was odd how friendly Pearl and Pyro were being right now. How happy they were to see him.
How Pearl was still smiling, even as her eyebrows drew down into a puzzled grin, her full attention turned towards him in curiosity. No exhausted bags under her eyes, no weapons, no demands.
How Pyro studied him with an expression of polite yet detached interest, his hands placed loosely into his pockets. No hunched shoulders, scowling expression, or eyes flicking back and forth, constantly watching.
It was unnerving. It was wrong. It was like neither of them even cared about what had happened or that they were in literal hell right now.
“Why’s that, didja do something?” Pearl asked.
Owen breathed in sharply, involuntarily. She didn’t remember. Neither of them did.
He spun around to hide his confusion, arms stiff at his sides, “Nothing, really. I’m just not a very likable person.” He managed to mumble out.
“Huh, really?” Pyro said, “You seem pretty nice to me.”
Owen wasn’t really listening anymore. He could hear Pyro’s footsteps coming closer towards him, could almost feel the hand reaching out to him. He needed to do something. Now.
“Why don’t we check out that tower? Lemme get some wood to make boats. No point getting our clothes wet.” He ran to the trees and started to chop one down.
“Oh thank you, that’s a good idea. Let us help you,” Pyro offered. The three of them worked to chop down the tree and Owen quickly crafted two boats, shoving them into the water and jumping in.
“What’s traveling without getting a bit distracted, eh?” Pearl climbed into the boat behind him, and for a brief moment he was terrified that she would snake her arms around him, to hang on as he rowed. He shook off the fear (It was not hope. People do not touch him. Ever.), and remembered that she hadn’t done that last time, so she wouldn’t this time either. Her hands gripped the sides of the boat instead. He sighed in both relief and annoyance, despite himself.
He climbed out of the boat, offering a hand to Pearl behind him. She squeaked when he gripped her hand a little too hard. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice how freezing cold his skin was. When she was safely ashore he asked, “Uh, what do you two want with Oakhurst?”
Pearl and Pyro chattered about nonsense that Owen had already heard. He responded, not really paying attention to them. The beacon was butter colored, wolves were migrating east, blah blah blah, whatever.
It had been nearly two months ago that this scenario had last played out. He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said. Did it even matter, though? He still wasn’t certain if this was actually happening. He tried to remember what had happened. He had asked Abolish to force cure him, and he’d chosen death over humanity. Then everything was dark for a brief moment before he woke up, dirt packed around his body and the ache of hunger in his belly. Had he gone back in time somehow?
Another thought occurred to him. If he’d gone back in time, then Louis wouldn’t be here.
Perhaps this really was hell.