The Promise by Tyler Braggins

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” 

Oh.

He was impossibly young, a child no more than 16 years of age. 

“Almost. Your heart has only just stopped.” There was no fear in his eyes as he stared at my figure, his gaze almost antagonizing as he scanned over my face. 

“Then send me back. I’m not dead yet, right?” Even worse than his age, he was one of those.

“You know not what you ask of me.” He did not consider my words, instead pointing his thin fingers at me, his face contorting into scowl. 

“I know exactly what I’m asking. Send me back. You have no claim over me yet.” The sheer determination of his voice was impressive, for how small he was otherwise.

“It will only be a matter of moments until I do.” But I knew this was pointless. He would argue, like they always did. 

“Send me back. Let me live those moments.” I had not the patience nor the fortitude to endure this.

“Listen to me well, child. I have no tear ducts with which to weep, no muscles with which to smile, no flesh for you to warm. You can not move me, for I was not designed to be moved.” The words came out like bitter venom.

“I’ll fight you, then. And when I win you will send me back.” He took on a child’s approximation of a fighting stance, bobbing up and down incessantly.

“Do I look like something that can be beaten?”

“That ha-” But I would give him no quarter.

“I am a concept. I am the reminder of an end, I am the great equalizer of you all. Do I look like I can be beaten?” Over and over, they ask, and over and over, I grant them their wish. They return, only to be met with realization. A half-vision, a fading dream, but it is there. And it tortures them. It destroys them. It brings them right back to me, filled with regret and sorrow and pain. You know not what you ask of me.  

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll find a way.”

“Do you truly not understand? I have heard the cries and pleas and arguments of the brightest minds you have to offer. I have done battle with your titans, the strongest and fiercest beings ever born. And still, I stand! The greatest of Mankind have all fallen before me, what makes you think you stand a chance?” I grew my form, impossibly tall and impossibly wide.

Accept your fate, damned child! 

“I made a promise.” His voice faltered, his bobbing ceased.

Finally, fear. But it brought me no satisfaction. 

“A promise?” 

“I promised I would fight you to live. Thought about what I'd say to you and everything, though I didn’t exactly think you were real when I made it.” 

“Oh but I am so very real, and so very powerful. I have no honor, I have no reputation to uphold, I hold every card in every deck that has ever been printed. Why do you think you stand a chance?”

“I don’t. But I have to try.” He looked down at his feet. “ I keep my promises.” 

“What is your name, child?” His conviction would at least earn him a place in my memory.

“Mark.” He sounded so frail. 

“Fine then, Mark. Fight me however you wish.” I’d let him keep his promise, I owed him that much. 

“I know it is futile. You’ve heard this from great poets and denied them all the same. But I need to try.” His nerves were obvious, his eyes not knowing where to look. All his confidence had left him with his name.

“Enough preamble. You’re running out of time.” A lie, it hadn't even been a second. We could talk for an hour and nothing would change down there.

“I love someone, t-the person I made the promise to. I didn’t believe in soulmates before them. I thought that  deep down everyone was just settling, that there was no one who was truly worthy of that title. I was wrong. They blew every other fleeting crush I thought was love out of the water.” A smile erupted over his face. It looked familiar to him. “I felt alive for the very first time. It was like everything in my life was just a prelude to us. They are someone worthy of making a promise of this weight.” A sigh, now. This speech was certainly well-rehearsed. “I am not the greatest mankind has to offer. Not even close. But they are. And I happen to have the uncanny ability to make them pretty damn happy. Send me back, for no one else other than them.” A noble reason, however naive.

 But still, I had heard much better speeches from much better men. I reached down, grabbing him by the collar. I had let him keep his promise, that would be enough. 

“Have you ever been in love?” His words surprised me. Surely buying himself more time, but the glint in his eyes told me there was genuine curiosity.

“No, I haven’t.” My fingers let him slip through.

“I’m sorry. It must be awful, being you.” He stared into my sockets.

“That's nothing to do with this.” Was this shame I was feeling?

“But it does. I can't beat you, but I can barter.” He had a wicked sort of grin. 

“I care not for material possessions. There is nothing you could offer me that would sway my decision.” Many had tried this, too. Gold, jewels, food, women. I have no use for such things, I am not afforded such frivolities.  

“I'll take your spot. Send me back and when I die, I'll take up your role.” But none had offered that.

“You lose far more than you gain.” I wouldn't wish this on anyone, especially not a human. He would crumble before even a single day had passed.

“I don’t care. I’d take an eternity of purgatory, or torture, or whatever your work entails, if it meant I got to see their face one more time.” 

“So young, and yet so sure of your love.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be? With everything else that’s going wrong, why would I doubt the one constant in my life? I’m sure of my love because that’s all I’ve got.” He looked down, not in shame, but in reflection.

“And if you were to lose them, what would become of you then?” 

“To love someone is to covet them. It is to take every little detail of them and catalog it in your mind. To love someone is to know them on a truly deep and intimate level, it is a human connection that can not be rivaled.” His pace of speech quickened.

“You haven’t answered my query.” He paused, like I had broken his rhythm. Then, shook his head, and returned his gaze to my face.

“Even if the worst were to pass, and I do lose them, I will still be happy. Some people say that life has meaning because it ends, because our time is limited. Means that whatever we chose to do with that time is special. I think love is the same way. It is beautiful in part because it ends, be it in heartbreak or in death. It is beautiful, nonetheless. ” He shifted his weight between his feet, confidence replacing uncertainty by the second. 

“Fine, then. You will take my place for half the time you spend down there.” Even this was a hefty price.

“That's hardly fair.”

“Wait a while, you'll see.” 

“Alright, I won't look a gift horse in the face. Thank you.” He reached out a hand, presumably to seal our deal.

I did not take it.

“Make no mistake. Going back will be worse than hell. You won’t remember this, but your subconscious will. It’ll drive you mad. Nobody who goes back lasts longer than a year.” Most didn’t last 6 months. Hopefully it would mean his tenure would be short.

“I will. My love-” 

“Will ground you, yes, I’ve heard it before.”

“Even if it doesn't, I'll be okay.”

His suffering would be my fault.

“I will offer you no solace, no ounce of pity when you return. Do not regret your decision.” Do not make me regret mine.

“I’ll be seeing you, then.” He flashes me a cheeky sort of grin. A wave of my hand later, and he is gone. And I am alone. 

I wish I could cry.

“It’s darker here than I thought it’d be.” Ah. Back to work.