As I lay there, dying among the corpses of men and demons alike, the sobbing voice of a woman grounded me for a moment longer.
I coughed, blood dripping from the corner of my mouth. Struggling, I forced my eyes open.
“Damian…” Mary cried, her heartbreaking sobs echoing through the silence of the night.
I gazed up at the full moon, the soft wind caressing my blonde hair.
I was dying.
That much was certain. I knew that with my skill and power, I could have escaped—I could have lived. But I couldn’t do that.
If I did, she would die. And deep within myself, I knew I couldn’t live with that.
She was my heart, the reason I was alive. Without her, I was nothing.
There was no “me” in a world without her. A future without her would be an endless nightmare.
“Don’t go… please…” she begged, clutching my chest.
I looked down at her, her once-bright yellow dress now stained with my blood.
“Mary…” I whispered weakly.
“Yes… Damian… I’m here…” she sobbed. “I’m here… don’t go… someone will come… I know they will… please, just hang on… please… don’t…”
“I love you,” I said aloud, a carefree smile on my face.
There it was—the one thing I had struggled to say. The words I had wrestled with for years now flowed effortlessly from my lips.
“No… no… no…” she pleaded. “You can’t leave me… not after saying that… you can’t!” She cried out, her voice breaking.
“You son of a bitch! Please… I want to answer that… I want to show you how much you mean to me… after all these years… do you think I don’t know how you feel?”
“Stay… I love you too… I’ve been waiting…”
Her voice slowly faded, growing distant as my consciousness began to slip away.
How regrettable.