Chapter 26
Noah
It's raining blood.
I stretch out my hands. Viscous drops pelt on my fingers, leaving deep red trails on my joints and seeping into every crevice of my skin.
Where am I?
My bare feet touch blades of grass. They are damp and cold. The scent of incense surrounds me. And I hear whispers. I don't understand what the people are saying; I only hear hissing sounds and uneasy clearing of throats.
"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," resounds a deep male voice, singing and speaking at the same time.
Silence.
"Amen," replies the choir.
I flinch, and suddenly, I can see it.
Right in front of me.
A tombstone. It glistens even though the sun isn't shining.
No! Please, not here.
Someone presses a flower into my hand. Eyes as light gray as November mist stare at me accusingly.
"I'm sorry." Yes, that's the truth. I'm sorry.
It's not enough, say the misty eyes.
"Not enough, not enough, not enough," sings the choirthat I can't even see. Someone shoves me. I stumble forward. My feet land in a puddle.
A pool of blood, with more blood dripping from the sky with every passing second.
"Look, coward. Look at what you've done."
I can't. It's impossible. Something hard and cold presses against the back of my neck. It forces me forward, and I can't resist. My knee crashes against the stone, and I sink to the ground.
"Look, coward. Look at what you've done."
No!
My fingers touch the stone, tracing the engraved inscription.
There's the J, then the U.
A thunderous roar runs through my body. "Julian," I utter, my eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible.
But it's as if my eyelids are transparent. And my eyes stare at the stone, hypnotized.
05.09.1992 - 05.09.2021
"I'm sorry." My words are no more than a whimper. I bury my hands in the soggy earth, feeling its penetrating coldness and catching the metallic scent of blood that clings to it.
"Look, coward. Look at what you've done," the chorus taunts me.
I lift my eyelids.
