Final Play

“Ferris, I want to. I really do. You and me, together. Fighting the Bad Guys, helping the persecuted. But the thing that’s been bugging me about being mortal, the thing I just wanted to get over with from the get go…is death. That it exists now. Sure, I could die before when I was a vampire. But I also didn’t have to, not if I took care of myself and avoided the sunlight. But that’s not really what’s so bad, because that’s easy to forget. Having to die is something your brain just stops thinking about. It’s that my friends have to die too. That’s why death is so terrible. It’s the end of the show. That’s the one person who will ever be that person in your life. The jokes, the advice, the way they laughed and received it. The show you put on for them and the audience they were for you. That’s it. Once they’re gone, it’s over. There are no replacements, no one who can do it quite the same way. That kid…looked up to me. And now he’s gone. That has to mean something. There has to be something I believe in for that. That I defend. I don’t know if he’s going to Heaven, I don’t know if he’s rotting in the ground. But he’s gone now. And I have to show him that I miss him,” I say. Ferris is just shaking her head. There are a few tears in her eyes, the guilt and anger building up and bursting forth. “Damnit Shade! I’m here. I’m still alive. I’m sorry but there was no way that kid could’ve understood. There’s no way you could understand. Being a slave to some blood sucking freak, everyone you know taking orders. What do you do when your own faith, when Fenrir himself, tells you that your doomed if you don’t do something? This Book was sent to help us! Please don’t do this!” she asks. I watch her hands as she reaches towards the bag. Her gun is probably in there. Maybe it really is time to get the damn suspense over with. See how the show ends for me. It’s not like my audience is going to get much bigger. But I figure I owe it to her to show the final card before I check out. I pull the cell phone out of my pocket and throw it on the floor. The speaker phone is on, the screen says ‘Connected…Mills’. “It’s already done,” I say.