She had known ****** through so many
of her incarnations and he always seemed
to mean her doom. He’d done her in
with a knife through the chest and a bullet
to the forehead. She’d also been shot
in the back and dismembered. The times
she relished meeting her fate most were
at the hands of the brusque but far from
ignorant cowboy knowingly torturing her
slowly or dismissively dispatching her quickly.
He never gave her time to plead for her life
which she would never do because she loved
him and she wanted to die at his hands
again and again. This time would be no
different but the undying soul of her mate
had taken the form of the arctic mermaid
whose sole purpose was to gain the Oracle
so as to bring their own world back to life
to the disastrous peril of all others.
The creature’s mask was crumbling.
It was indeed dying due to so much
ectoplasm being annihilated. An energy
that could be neither created nor destroyed
dead ectoplasm simply floated like smoke
until it dissipated into mere dust.