Immortalis Letum

By darkdemonsunday

Title basically means "Immortal Death"

Summary: What would you do if you had to relive your painful death? What if you had to do it the rest of your life?

He screamed but it didn't help.

He cried but sobbing only made it worse.

He tried everything. He ran. He strived to find another way, but nothing time, "Immortalis letum" was the last thing it whispered to him. He hadn't known what it meant at first, but now he did.

He never had a relationship because he couldn't keep one. He never had friends or kept in contact with family. He spent his days waiting. Waiting to die and wondering. What did he do to deserve this?

Why?

He asked himself that single word a lot, but no one ever had an answer. He played out his days as differently as he could. At first he did the same thing everyday but at last he realized that each day started like he was never born. Nobody remembered him dying.

So he started doing wicked things. Immoral acts.

He stole. He hurt people. He cheated and lied and it was driving him crazy. No matter how differently he did his day – no matter where he was – he always died the same way, at the same time.

He screamed every time because it always hurt and he would never grow used to it. The searing pain as he hit the ground. Sometimes he was cowering in the corner. It didn't matter where he was or what he was wearing because it always happened.

It always hit in the same place.

The exact same place.

He felt betrayed. But by whom? It wasn't anybody's fault but his own that he ended up this way. It was his mistake. His problem. He said he was sorry every time he was about to die but he knew no one was listening. He knew he deserved it. He was a depraved man. He was sinful.

He hurt someone.

His wife. He didn't mean to… or did he? He couldn't remember anymore. He heard her scream; it still rang in his ears after all these years. He saw her blood trickle down the knife and onto his pale skin and felt nothing. But he couldn't help it. He had been in a bad mood all day. He had been on edge most of the evening. He just wanted to be alone. And then she pestered him… while he was chopping vegetables.

So he stabbed her.

She died and he felt nothing. He never made it to the funeral. Her brother came and hunted him down. He hunted him down and shot him.

Straight through the heart. And three years later, every day, at exactly midnight, he saw that face, the last face he saw. He heard the sound of the gun firing and he didn't feel it right away, but then it was there: the unbearable pain.

He collapsed on the floor and bled, and the man just laughed…

He screamed but it didn't help.

He cried but sobbing only made it worse.

"Immortalis letum" was the last thing it whispered to him. He hadn't known what it meant at first. But now he did.

(Note from author – hope I fixed it up enough to satisfy both author and editor!)