The only reason I have my soulmate is that I can feel their pain and they keep stubbing their toe. Every day, without fail.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Richard D’Angelo
Race: Halfling – Dragon / Human – God of Death
Age: 65, physically about 27
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 774 words
 

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I lost my mind during the dark years. I think that, not having Owen with me, is one of the things that did me in. In a strange way, I think we were already well-linked, back then. I’m not blaming him for what happened to me. He had to deal with his own trauma. We both went our own way, and it just didn’t work out for us but, I guess that, in a way, I’m not altogether surprised.

His presence, on that rooftop, is the only reason why I allowed Indrah to sedate me. I was already chained, I was out of my mind, I’d already managed to knock one of the quads down and Maveryn in their attempts to get me sedated and on the table.

Only Owen, though I sensed him more than I truly recognize him, I think, is the reason why I calmed down enough to be brought downstairs. Only his presence, the sense of his battered soul, reached me and brought me back into a partial state of command over my own mind and body.

Once we were properly reunited and our healing together could start, I faintly recall mumbling something about how I’d always known where he’d been, even when we were apart. Though I was reluctant to mention it, not wanting to shatter what seemed like our rather fragile selves, I eventually told him that I had felt everything he had felt.

At first, I had assumed that the uncalled-for pain that I felt must have been my shattered mind merely trying to break me further. I honestly thought that this was the case until I learned of what happened to him. Only with that information in mind was I able to play connect the dots on our ugly, ugly time apart.

And it is only years later, a decade or so at least, that I began being able to tease him somewhat about this physical link I still had with him. I’d gotten used to it, at this point, I’d learned how to tell us apart—not that I have a habit of getting hurt, nor does he—but there were days when I would feel a small something and I wouldn’t have to ask myself if it was from my mind not quite being where it rightfully was; I knew it had come from him.

The teasing? I recall one particular morning that felt like nothing could go right. It was a bad morning for him, stubbed toes, spilled hot drink, a small cut while dealing with cutting up vegetables. All little things but, in a way, I think I managed to keep him focused on something other than the fact that his current day was clearly going to shit.

Those days are uncommon, and I often forget that our link is a thing. It seems to only flare up when he’s hurt and, well, I might go somewhat out of my way to ensure that he’ll never feel pain ever again, unless that pain is a brief request that usually crops up in our more personal time spent together. Even that is rare, but the bare flash of discomfort is what might be more common, and discomfort is not something I am as attuned to as his outright pain.

I love this man more than I love myself. Without him, I know that my sanity would crumble—which, I’m aware, is rather humorous when you do think about it, but I guess that it does what it’s supposed to.

Would I give up this link I have to him? This ability to feel his pain whenever it crosses a certain threshold, even if that threshold is fairly low? I mean, I can feel it when he stubs his toe and I always shake my head when that does happen, it can’t be helped. It’s such a little thing but, depending on how it happens, it can often feel like it might just ruin your day, after all.

Owen is my everything. Title aside, he truly is the only reason why I have all of my mind. Our gifts are difficult ones to handle but we are settled at a fairly comfortable middle ground, as a pair. We balance one another out well and anyone that might think it smart to come between us for any reason would regret it in ways they might not have ever dreamed of. It has been a very long time since I’ve allowed violence to come into my life in any way, shape or form. I refuse to let it sink its claws into me ever again.

You didn’t have to do anything for me, but you did. Why?

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Richard D’Angelo
Race: Halfling – Dragon / Human – God of Death
Age: 64, physically about 27
Final Word Count: 717 words
 

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I know I’ve likely said it a lot in my life up until this point and I’ll be saying it again and again, every single time my mood dips and my mind goes back to things of the past. Owen didn’t have to essentially take me in when he did while we were at school. I know I was younger than the rest of my school mates. I know I was a few grades ahead of my own age group and that, despite the ridiculous amount of pills I had to take and the fact that these pills very often turned me into something akin to a zombie. On that same note, I know Owen was one grade… maybe two behind. I don’t fully recall, it was pretty bad.

Still. He didn’t have to take in the kid that cowered in the hallways because everyone else picked on him. He didn’t have to do anything for that kid that already had more than enough life experience with the more adult side of things—unwillingly for the most part—but he still did. No, our first meeting wasn’t exactly what I’d have called normal. My current cocktail of pills often left me in a particular state that possibly shouldn’t have happened and he just… it just so happened that he helped me scratch an itch.

I never actually asked him why he took me in. Why he helped me; why he more or less claimed me as his when no one else even just wanted me near them in case my ‘weird’ was contagious. Newsflash, it was not.

I think it took a bit of time before my medication switched to something else. It’s so long ago and most of those years are blurry to me. I can’t even really remember what it was like once he actually—finally—graduated and I still had a year or two to go through. I feel as though, by that point, people had learned to just leave me the hell alone and that was it. Maybe.

Or maybe my parents had finally taken me back home and I was doing my schooling from home. I really just can’t remember.

On certain days, I wish I had asked him why he did what he did. He didn’t have to, no one else would have wanted to, we were just two broken halves of something that most likely gravitated towards one another as though it was the thing that made the most sense and well, look at it from this other angle, we’ve certainly made a good life for ourselves since. We might both be a little crazy but our kids were good kids and they’ve grown into just as good adults. I think that this is all I could have wanted as a father.

Parenthood, though, I think it shaped us a little more. I’m not really sure either one of us knew what we were getting into when we joined the bandwagon of kids because that’s a bit what it felt like. Everyone else was doing the kids thing and while it wasn’t something that we just decided overnight, I still believe that we were in a little over our heads.

We did good, though. There were ups and downs but, looking back at what I do remember of my own childhood, I think ups and downs are to be expected when you’re raising children. I bet a few people worried about our kids as they were growing up, to some, we’re not the most stable of people but we level one another out so well that it’s like we’re pretty much like everyone else whose godhood doesn’t pull them in every which way it might feel like whenever it can.

One of these days, I might finally ask him why he did what he did all those years ago but I don’t really think it matters all that much anymore. He did what he did, it saved my life, it helped me find my place among my peers even though I still just barely spoke to them and all in all, it just led me to where I am now, so I’m grateful.

After all, I love the guy, I think that’s enough of an answer to any and all questions.

I’ve felt emotions I didn’t know I had.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 2nd Generation
Characters: Richard D’Angelo
Race: Halfling – Dragon / Human – God of Death
Age: 63, physically about 27
Final Word Count: 645 words
 

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I still find myself strangely haunted by the stupid ‘session’ I took to learn more about what my gift had done to humanity as a whole. I can easily admit that it had been an absolutely stupid move, to this day, that I’d opted to go in there on my own. Once the year had been over and I had Owen with me during these walks through the history of death, they became a little easier but they still shook me and I hated what I was.

Though I suppose there is a distinction to be made about hating what I was as far as the gift I was handling and hating the person I was. In this case, it was the former and not the latter, though the former was all there ever was for me to focus on during my childhood, I’m not going to lie. That childhood was a terrible one—by no fault of my parents—and just, that was a mess. I try not to think about it much but it’s when I met Owen so that is a good thing.

I’ve discovered, on these walks through death, that there were emotions in me I didn’t think I was capable of feeling.

For most of my life, even after I’ve met Owen, I was closed up enough with my emotions—chemical imbalances for the fail, I was on so many pills while I was in school that it’s a wonder I made it through—that there was plenty I didn’t allow myself to feel. Plenty that I didn’t want to think about or even believe I could feel.

Owen opened up small parts of me to these emotions, I’m not going to lie, but there still were some emotions—things that have no use on a day-to-day basis—that I truly thought I didn’t have. That was, until I forced myself, and the system, to lock me out of the Walk-with-Death sessions for a full year.

I also now try to not think about these emotions because I have no need for them but I know they’re present.

I don’t know that I can ever do walks like these again, though I’m sure that if I picked another subject, it would be different and I might. Maybe even something closer to do with Owen himself though I wouldn’t subject him to these walks on his own, not after the effect mine had had on me. Though maybe some things are best left alone. I could do with just walks through the miracles of life, probably.

Or, you know, I just leave the system on its own.

I’m aware that some people probably think we’re not the most functional pair ever but I don’t care. I believe that everyone has their own issues and no one is perfect. Everyone is broken in their own small way and while most can patch up over that small crack in their armour and call it a day, some just can’t and wear that wear-and-tear on their psyche on their sleeves and that’s that.

Some probably even think that pairing Death and Insanity together is something out of a nightmare but we balance one another out so well that we’re harmless when we’re together, we are. Then again, people can think what they will. I’m not worried about what they think or what they want to believe. I have my family, I have the love of my life, I have had kids—something that still surprises me to this day—and I’ve lived, so far, a good life. At least, the last several decades have been quite good and I’m looking forward to more good times to be had and they will be had, trust me.

No one can dictate what I can and cannot do with my life.

I’m a roll tonight and nothing can stop me.

Timeline/World: Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Richard D’Angelo
Race: Halfling – Dragon / Human – God of Death
Age: 61, physically about 27
Final Word Count: 525 words

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After the last virtual history lesson I’d been pulled through and my reaction to it, I’d backed away. I’d set a lock on the program and put a timer on it. No matter the password I tried or no matter how I might try to unlock the program, it wouldn’t let me back in for a year and I think that was a desperately needed out.

Yes, I’d started the whole thing to better learn about what my gift had done for humanity. I had been ready to face old age, sickness and war, but the constant, senseless killing had started to get to me and each session was harder and harder, I was crawling back into a shell that had never really been mine, to begin with.

With the simulations blocked away, I could look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and see the changes, even just a day later. The stains that had been under my eyes were beginning to fade, I didn’t look as half-dead as I had, my skin was beginning to get its colour back. It had been a good thing and I had told myself that I would actually ask Owen to join me when the timer ran out. It would give me a better anchor.

A few hours ago, the desire to bake took over me. I don’t know really where it was from. I can cook, that’s not really a problem though I know reading a few recipe books likely would do some good, but I couldn’t bake. At least, I never had tried and I wasn’t sure why I had the sudden desire to but I did.

I went off into the kitchen, looked through the pad for simple recipes and I found one for mini-doughnuts, the oven-baked kind, not the fried one. The basic recipe was one thing and after that, I could add in any extra I wanted to the batter before I put them on a little doughnut pan that held a dozen. I’d gotten four of those since our oven could hold two side by side on each of the racks.

So here I am, an hour, maybe two later already and I have almost ten dozen mini doughnuts just sitting there, waiting to be gobbled up and I say ‘almost’ ten dozen because I admit I might have eaten a handful right as they were coming out of the oven. I split my batter in two, I kept on with the basic recipe, one I added a small extra boost of sugar to it and with each new batch I set in the oven, I mix in a small handful of extra ingredients in the batter. Dehydrated chives in one along with some Parmesan flakes, in another I added a dash of cinnamon. It’s just little things and the scents mixing in, in the kitchen are new, a good meal and dessert all in one.

I still have a lot of batter to go through, I admit I might have tripled the batch because the original recipe seemed so small but I don’t mind, this is actually pretty fun.

How Incredibly Insightful

Timeline/World: Atheria 2nd Generation
Characters: Richard D’Angelo
Race: Halfling – Dragon / Human – God of Death
Age: 61, physically about 27
Final Word Count: 768 words

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He was not amused, why he had agreed to this, to begin with, was beyond him. One couldn’t even use the term “bored” because it went far beyond boredom at that point.

Contrary to popular belief, this wasn’t his primary mood. The split hadn’t been easy on him, he knew it hadn’t been easy on anyone, but his already unstable mind had taken a hard dip. He had tried, again and again, to not be a complete failure and despite the comforting words of his parents, he had spent years feeling as though he had failed at being a good son, a good person.

Being gifted with godhood hadn’t made things any better and only Owen’s presence at his side kept him from unspeakable acts to his person.

Raising children of their own, however, had helped him as well, it had mellowed out whatever was rotten in him to the point of being pleasant to others even after a prolonged amount of time away from Owen.

Some things still set him off and this particular setup in the virtual reality was just one of the things. He was still trying to figure out how he had gotten roped into the whole thing when the lights about the room slowly came back on.

He watched as people, all strangers to him, got to their feet and started to trail out of the room. To them, he wasn’t even there; he was a ghost. That particular thought made realisation come back to the surface and he grew aware that he would have to deal with this simulation until it was over.

Several years back now, he had set himself up a simulation with a once a month schedule. A simulation in which he could be nothing but a spectator as he went over moments of great death in history. He had set it in such a way that he couldn’t stop it halfway. He had to deal with the whole thing whether he wanted to or not.

While he was aware that the vast majority of deaths in the world had happened long before he had been titled God of Death; for reasons he couldn’t wrap his mind around, he felt responsible for them all.

Those two days inside the barrier that had been a hundred years outside had affected him more than he had expected it. It hadn’t taken him long to be able to ignore the little pinprick that came with each death, but the mass of them dying during that time frame had been something else entirely.

Now, as the theatre around him filled up again and the words on the screen cleared up from their half blurry state, he closed his eyes. He didn’t do this as punishment, he was only trying to understand human nature better and some of these were harder to deal with than others.

“Can’t keep on letting it pick at random,” the words were a hoarse murmur from him as the flash of gun shots brightened the room around him for barely more than a heartbeat each time.

He just wanted this simulation to be done with. It was no worse than the last one where he had had to witness the brutal murder of innocent children but he wished the program would have randomised differently. Even a war scene with hundreds of death would have been better.

Most of the time he found things to be insightful, there was plenty to be learned. In simulations like these, where the killing was mindless, it was different, he couldn’t even watch it.

When finally sounds and sights darkened, then lightened back up to the forest and lake scene he had set up later on after a few simulations had left him needing something calm to focus on, Richard looked left and right, startled at the sound of someone’s ragged breathing.

He found no one else with him.

He moved to the lake to stare at his distorted reflection and startled when he realised his face was wet with tears and the ragged breathing had been his own.

There were no easy ways for him to track time though he always kept a timer running o nth simulation going so he didn’t spend more than a couple of hours in there.

As he saw his surroundings fade and heard the door click, he vowed to change the parameters to exclude any death that had happened since his birth, despite that he hadn’t been given his godhood until his teen years. He just couldn’t handle them. In some ways, he blamed himself for them.