The Queen of Half-Life: Deresanzi Mills
(27k, loosely edited) “…for dark magic tends to save the world more often than the pure kind.” -some old wizard The nails she wore drew me to her first. They were a midnight shade of purple, rimmed with gold, each sporting three small daggers, star-like, gradient of gold to the midnight purple. They entranced me, enticed me, and inhaled my existence. In the end, those nails were the ones who brought me to my supposed life. I wasn’t alive, but not quite dead either. “Half-lifer,” she called me, her crimson lipstick so close to my eyes. “Best come with me.” This isn’t my story. I’m dead. Well, not yet. I’ve died, and she brought me back, but not to life. I can talk, walk, sleep, and pretend I’m human. I don’t decompose, but have no heartbeat. With one foot in the grave, I’m frozen between life and death. I now serve her, Deresanzi, the Queen of Half-life.” “Stop calling me a Queen,” she said. “I’m just another Half-lifer like you. You’re only here because Salzy wanted to bring you ba...