Chapitre 1: Prologue : Leaving with a light heart
It hadn't been more than fifteen minutes since the nurse left my room, and I still hadn't looked away from the hospital parking lot. My gaze was locked onto the endless shuffle of cars and people below, while inside me anticipation and sadness were duking it out in some twisted cage match with no clear winner in sight.
I had promised myself that today, of all days, I would focus only on positive thoughts. You know, the whole 'good vibes only' nonsense. But right now, I couldn't help but wonder ; If my father was still alive, how would he feel seeing me like this? So thin, so pale, and, worst of all, so damn bald…
Wait. Hold up! Thin, pale, and bald? How did it only just hit me that I could have totally pulled off a Voldemort cosplay? I could have spent the last few months terrorizing the kids in pediatrics!
Another missed opportunity, I sighed, mentally kicking myself. But I digress...
Ah yes, my father, the hero. If anyone should have seen the disaster coming, it was me. There was no way he could cover the cost of my treatment with the crumbs he had saved up. And drowning us in debt? Nope. That wasn't an option for him. He was too focused on my future, because apparently, it was way more important than, you know, staying alive.
In the end, he probably thought drastic times called for drastic measures. And like I said, my father was a hero. Sacrifice runs deep in their DNA, right?
Honestly, if I had known what he was planning, I would have done him a favor and checked myself out before he had the chance to do it.
Even now, I couldn't quite fathom how he thought he could convince me his death was natural. Fool the insurance company? Sure. But me? Come on, Dad. It's not rocket science. Oh, you died in the line of duty a week after hearing about my health? How convenient. Absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your life insurance as a firefighter came with amazing coverage. I mean, seriously? I'm sick, not stupid.
'Why did you do it?' I muttered for the thousandth time, knowing full well that his sacrifice had been... pointless.
Because, yeah, here's the real kicker ; It was all for nothing. The treatment? Oh, it bought me time, sure, but curing me? Not even close. I needed an organ donor for that, and since my disease mostly affects little kids and that they have priority over transplants, I was bound to be perpetually at the bottom of the list, hence my totally justified urge to scare the hell out of every single one of them in this damn hospital.
Well, that and the fact that I'm suspecting that it was one of those little shits who stole my applesauce at lunch two weeks ago.
Welcome to hospital life, where boredom has you obsessing over the most trivial things imaginable.
Anyway, it's too late to roll out the Voldemort plan now. I barely have the strength to stand, let alone stage a dramatic terror campaign. Besides, I already made other plans for today. After all, I chose today as the day to end my legendary rivalry with my second greatest enemy ; Life itself. Yep, today's the day I finally bow out.
BUZZ
BUZZ
The buzzing from my phone under my bony ass yanked me out of my thoughts. And before you ask, no, it's not some weird fetish thing, I'm just hiding it here because the nurses and doctors don't want me to use it in the room to avoid disturbing the machines around...
Anyway, ignoring the delightful pain in every muscle of my body, I started to wriggle like a trout out of the water, trying to reach my phone with my IV-free left hand. By the time I finally managed to grab it, the buzzing had, of course, stopped. Typical.
I already knew who it was, so no surprises when his name popped up on the screen. With zero hesitation, I hit redial and pressed the phone to my ear.
BEEP
I was bracing myself, knowing this would be the last time I would talk to my best friend.
BEEP
Though, let's be real, after everything he had done for me since I got sick, the guy's more like a brother now.
BEEP
When I realized my odds of survival were... well, a joke, I made a bucket list. I threw in a few things that could only be described as questionable and told him we should do them together. Thought he would refuse. Any sane person would have. But nope, that idiot said yes without even blinking, setting the stage for the weirdest and best weekend of my life.
BEEP
We couldn't make eye contact for a while after that, but totally worth it.
KATCHA
"Hey… Harry." His voice was shaky, uncertain. "How are you... wait, no, stupid question."
Just from his tone, I could tell he was sad and uncomfortable. I mean, of course, he was ; He knew this was the last time he would hear my voice. He wasn't going to enjoy this moment any more than I was.
I cut straight to the point, no time for awkward sentimentality, "Has she arrived?" My voice was cold, detached.
He must have been thrown by how distant I sounded because there was a pause before he answered, "Look at the parking lot."
I did. My eyes scanned the cars as he continued, "Harry, are you sure you want it to end like this?"
Oh, for crying out loud. He's going to do this now? I rolled my eyes so hard I practically saw my own brain.
If there was ever a time I didn't need a morality lecture, it was now, "Lucas, seriously? I'm the one who's dying here, and you are the one chickening out? You better grow a bigger pair of balls once I'm gone." Sarcasm practically dripped from my words.
"Stop pretending, man. Seriously. Is this really how you want to go out?" He asked again, like he knew better than I did what I wanted.
"I can die in peace after I have settled things with her." I replied with conviction, as I spotted the silhouette of the person in question stepping out of a convertible in the distance.
Lucas let out a defeated sigh, "Okay, it's your life, after all." His voice cracked just a little.
Sensing things were about to get unnecessarily emotional if I let him go on, I made a tactical retreat, "A rich man says what?" I suddenly blurted out.
"What?" He answered reflexively.
"Ha ha ha ha! What a retard!" I burst out laughing, as loud and unrestrained as I physically could, before hanging up and tossing my phone out the window.
With Lucas out of the picture, my laughter died down, and the familiar weight of reality crept back in, 'Enjoy my inheritance, brother.' I thought, as the heaviness of the moment settled in.
'Oh, that's strange. What's this?' I asked myself as some kind of trails of salty water, which definitely weren't tears, started streaming down my cheeks.
I had no clue where this mysterious liquid was coming from, but I knew one thing for sure ; There was 0 % chance that it was from my eyes.
That only made me more curious, so I decided to really think about it and after a deep dive into this strange phenomenon, I finally came up with a reasonable explanation ; It was just some intense, super-localized sweating.
Totally makes sense, right? Right?
Oh, who am I kidding? I was bawling like a bitch, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Who knew I had so many emotions pent up? And of all times, they had to hit me now. So pathetic…
"Damn it!" I quickly wiped the tears away with the sleeve of my hospital gown. No way was I going to let her see me like this ; Weak, sad, or anything even remotely close. She wasn't going to get that satisfaction.
'This is your big moment, don't screw it up. Do it for yourself, but also for Dad.' I kept telling myself, trying to psych up for what I had to do, even though deep down, I knew Dad would never approve of this plan.
That was his biggest flaw ; He was too good for his own good...
Not 'good' as in incapable of hate, he was human after all, but too good to act on it. That's why, no matter what that woman put him through, he never sought revenge. Hell, he would even turn the other cheek if it came to that.
On that front, my Dad and I were nothing alike. I was no pacifist, far from it and I certainly didn't believe in being the 'bigger person' or that every asshole was bound to be caught up by its bad karma in its lifetime. My way of dealing with people that wronged me unprovoked was a bit closer to 'an eye for an eye at the very least, and if I can really fuck you up, you better believe that I will make you blind'.
Honestly, considering all the crap she put us through, I was actually going easy on her with what I was about to do.
Perhaps the prospect of one's own death softens people...
But not enough for me to just let it all go. Not even close.
From my perspective, what I held against her was pretty simple ; It was going to be only the second time I would ever see her in my life. And that's if you didn't count the day I was born. For me, the 'first time' was two months ago when she had the audacity to show up at Dad's will reading, hoping to snag something for herself.
If I had even an ounce of forgiveness left for the woman who abandoned me at birth, it evaporated the moment she strutted into that office wearing a tacky pink dress, and late to boot...
It was a total slap in the face to me and especially to Dad's memory, but I wasn't really surprised. Even when she stormed out after realizing she wasn't getting a dime, without so much as glancing in my direction, it didn't shock me either.
I knew what she was like, so I kept my cool. Dad had painted a clear enough picture of her ; Superficial, selfish, greedy, and utterly lacking in empathy, 'Basically, the ultimate Karen.' As I liked to call her.
TAC
TAC
TAC
The sound of high heels clicking down the hallway outside my door snapped me back to reality, 'Shit.' I had to move fast before that bitch walked in!
'Damn, all that practice with Juliette was definitely worth it.' I thought, ridicule flooding me as I scrambled to open the drawer beside my bed.
Spotting the half-full syringe at the bottom, I snatched it up and kissed it like a lifeline, silently thanking my lucky star for bringing into my life Juliette ; A nurse on the brink of retirement with just the right degree of moral flexibility. After months of getting to know each other, all it took was sharing my story and shedding a few tears, which weren't entirely fake given my constant pain, for her to be fully onboard with my plan.
The heels stopped just outside my door. I was seconds away from injecting the syringe into my IV when...
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
"Harry, you have a visitor. Are you decent?" Juliette's soft voice floated through the door. And when she asked if I was 'decent' we both knew she wasn't talking about clothes. She was asking if I had used the syringe yet.
No time for second thoughts. I pressed the plunger, emptying the syringe into my IV, and quickly slipped back into a 'natural' position in bed, hiding the syringe under the sheets, "Yes." I called out.
I heard Juliette's footsteps retreating before the door swung open, revealing my mother. She didn't say a word. Didn't even look at me. She just hovered in the doorway, waving a finger at her phone like whatever was on there was way more important than her dying son.
'God, I hope Juliette hurries up.' I thought, already nauseated by my mother's presence. And, on a smaller scale, by the fact that once again, she couldn't even be bothered to dress appropriately.
I scanned her up and down with disgust, taking in her haughty expression, her hideous neon yellow dress, and that typical Karen bob haircut, "You look like a hooker." I spat out provocatively, just to get her to take her eyes off the phone.
Her face reddened, and she finally looked up from her screen. Her eyes locked on mine, full of anger, she was ready to spit something back, no doubt louder and nastier than necessary, I could tell. But before she could get a word in, I cut her off, sneering, "Hold off on saying something you might regret, remember ; My inheritance is still on the line."
She snorted, shoved her phone into her purse, and walked into the room, trying to play it cool while I kept my eyes locked on her, my gaze sharp with nothing but pure hostility.
She stood there awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable being in the same room as me. When she made no move to sit down, I jerked my head toward the chair that Juliette had left beside my bed, "Sit." I ordered.
"Why should I?" She snapped, her arms crossed, dripping with disgust. She couldn't even pretend to hide how much my sickly appearance repulsed her.
I clenched my jaw, irritation bubbling to the surface, "Because I have been dealing with all the 'little' inconveniences of this disease for months without whining, so how about you sit your ass down for two damn minutes." I shot back, my voice laced with irony as I put extra emphasis on the word 'little'.
She huffed, clearly not impressed, "I hope for your sake you are not lying." She muttered, pinching her nose dramatically as she circled the bed and reluctantly sat in the chair. She was making it very obvious that the smell of antiseptic and medication coming off me was unbearable.
"Deafness isn't one of the 'inconveniences' I hinted at." I said flatly, "And save your threats for someone who cares. Because, as you can see, I've got nothing left to lose."
Her eyes flicked to the top of my head with a mocking grin, "Indeed…" She smirked, clearly getting a kick out of my baldness before sitting down.
'And I took that personally.' I thought, narrowing my eyes.
Ignoring her petty jab about my smell was easy, but this? This hit a nerve…
I was all set to snap back at her, put her in her place, maybe even make her regret ever opening her mouth. I had this killer line ready about how my disease was probably a 'genetic gift' from one of my parents and I was 99% sure it was her faulty genes that screwed me over. But just as I was about to deliver that masterpiece, I felt the poison I had injected into my IV start to kick in.
'Shit. SHIT!' I thought, feeling my breath start to turn erratic, 'I need to hurry, Juliette's going to be back soon, and I don't have much time.'
The poison I had chosen wasn't exactly random. I wasn't about to pump something into my veins without knowing every little detail about its effects. I knew my condition was about to nosedive from there, so I did my best to act like everything was perfectly fine. Just your average day. No cause for alarm. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice what was happening right in front of her.
Luckily for me, she was too busy admiring her damn manicure to notice that I was sweating like a sinner in church.
"Well…" I began, my voice a little shaky, "I think it's time we talk about what I promised you."
She glanced up from her nails, finally giving me the bare minimum of her attention, "Finally." She muttered, looking as though she had just been waiting her whole life for this.
As I leaned toward the bedside table, I let the syringe slip from my left hand, careful to keep it hidden under the sheets. With my free hand, I reached into the drawer.
For a second, my mother's eyes lit up, clearly thinking I was about to hand her something magical. Instead, I pulled out a five-page document and casually handed it to her, "You might want to read the whole thing, just in case."
I watched with no small amount of amusement as the excitement on her face quickly melted into suspicion. She flipped through the pages, her eyebrows furrowing, "What's the catch?" She demanded, scanning the document for any tricks.
"Nothing." I replied, not even needing to lie because the document she was reading really did say I intended to leave her a good chunk of my inheritance, "The two notaries I contacted to witness the signing will confirm everything when they get here."
Her shoulders relaxed just a bit when I mentioned the notaries. Rookie mistake, 'Oh, sweetie, you should really know better by now.'
Yes, according to the law, a will must be drawn up by a notary in the presence of two witnesses or a second notary, and signed by the testator, in this case, me. So far, nothing fishy. But here's the catch ; I had written the whole will myself, which was a big no-no. It was supposed to be dictated to the notary in the presence of witnesses. Meaning, the document in her hands was worth about as much as a used tissue.
And as for the notaries I had mentioned? Well, let's just say they weren't coming. Ever.
If I had to break down the plan, it was simple ; The document I had handed her was bait. Lure her in, make her think she was getting what she wanted. Then, I would casually mention the notaries to make her feel safe and drop her guard completely. That way, she wouldn't be alarmed by the sound of footsteps coming toward the room, like the ones we were hearing now.
"It sounds like the notaries are here." I said, my voice barely holding together while my mind was doing a little victory dance, 'I love you, Juliette! I did the right thing by putting you on my real will!'
My mom's eyes darted toward the door, excitement plastered all over her face. That was my cue to act.
In one quick, surprisingly smooth motion for someone on the brink of death (let me have this flex, I have earned it), I grabbed the syringe with my left hand and slipped it into my mother's right, which, luckily for me, was half-open.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
"Harry, is everything okay?" Juliette's voice drifted through the door, dripping with false concern. She was playing her part well, making sure the nurses she had brought along under the pretense of earing screams coming from my room wouldn't suspect she was in on our little scheme.
I knew she was waiting for my signal to open the door, but at the risk of stressing her out I didn't give it to her right away…
Instead, I stared at my mom, savoring every bit of her panic ; From the moment she saw what was in her hand, to the moment she looked up at me and realized the syringe was the obvious reason why my face was way paler than when she entered the room, in fact, pale enough that I didn't even need white foundation for my Voldemort cosplay animore (let it go Harry for fuck sake), and finally, to the moment she understood that I had very little effort to do to put her behind bars for a long, long time.
That's when she made her move. The sensible one, of course. She clamped her hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming, because, clearly, she didn't realize that suffocating to death was already doing a great job of silencing me.
'Dumbass.' With what little strength I had left, I pressed the emergency button at the side of my bed.
BIP!
BIP!
BIP!
The door burst open, and three nurses, including Juliette, rushed in, their pagers going berserk in response to my emergency call. Chaos, just as planned.
My mom, ever the panicker, took things up a notch. In a stroke of genius, or, more accurately, idiocy, she threw the syringe on the floor and stomped on it.
Nice move, Mom. Real subtle.
I mean, my plan wasn't perfect by any means. My fingerprints were all over that syringe, but now she was actively helping me cover my tracks. And let's not forget, she was doing it in front of witnesses, 'Brilliant!' All she had to do now was toss my fake will into a bonfire, and Juliette wouldn't even need to bother burning it later. Mom was practically gift-wrapping my suicide-turned-murder-disguised-as-suicide scheme. A real team player, that one.
If she had just kept her cool, maybe, maybe, she could have proven her innocence. But hey, I'm not about to complain if she's hellbent on digging her own grave. It's her life, after all.
One of the nurses tackled my mom to the floor like it was an NFL game, which briefly made me regret not including her in my will too. Meanwhile, the other two, Juliette being one of them, were scrambling around me, doing their best to keep me alive (well, technically only one of them was really 'trying').
The non-Juliette nurse yanked out my IV, probably thinking it would stop the poison that had just been injected, but that ship had sailed. Death was knocking, and instead of bolting the door, I was rolling out the welcome mat.
Before long, my brain started to short-circuit, like a TV losing signal ; Static, fuzz, and random nonsense filling my head. I couldn't feel a damn thing, not even the pain that had become my old, reliable companion. Maybe suffocating had some perks after all ; At least agony checked out early.
My vision blurred like someone had smeared Vaseline over my eyeballs, and before I knew it, everything faded to black.
---
'So, this is how it ends. Not with a bang, but a slow fade to commercial break. How original.' I thought, surprisingly calm for someone who was supposedly dead. It was a good life, though. Short, sure, but intense. A climax worth dying for, if I do say so myself.
For a few seconds, I was blissfully oblivious to what it meant that I was still capable of thinking after, you know, dying. In my defense, it was my first time.
Then, after what felt like an embarrassingly long mental pause, I snapped back to reality and opened my eyes.
---
When I realized that death hadn't truly claimed me, my first thought wasn't relief. No, it was regret. By killing myself, I might have accidentally booked a one-way trip to hell, and obviously, that wasn't on my to-do list.
As an atheist (yet another reason that could land me in hell, I suppose), the idea of spending eternity amidst flames, torture, and sadistic demons wasn't something I had ever seriously considered. Yet here I was. Before I opened my eyes, I was bracing myself for the arrival of some horned, red-skinned creature who would tell me with an ecstatic expression that it couldn't wait for us to get to know each other more deeply while fondling a pitchfork. But, thankfully, I couldn't have been more wrong.
Instead, I found myself in a massive, empty room with pristine white walls, ceiling, and floor, so blindingly clean it felt like the waiting room for heaven, if heaven had a thing for bleach. I blinked a few times, taking it in, then couldn't resist.
"FUCK YEAH! IT'S HEAVEN!" I shouted, raising my arms in triumph, until I noticed something strange.
My arms... they didn't look right. In fact, they didn't look solid at all. I stared at my translucent limbs, unease creeping in, "Uh, what the hell?" I whispered, waving my ghostly hands. And then, with growing horror, I realized I was missing something pretty vital, "Okay, that's not funny anymore."
As I tried to process the fact that I was now see-through and, well, dickless, a voice cut through my confusion, "Your mortal body has perished. You are now but shadow and mist." A calm, feminine voice explained, "Regrettably, this means your... manhood has also been lost."
I whirled around, trying to locate the voice, but there was nothing, "Who the hell are you?" I demanded, a little more panic in my voice than I would care to admit.
Seconds later, I felt two large, calloused hands land on my shoulders, sending a shiver down my spine, "I'm here, Harry." The voice whispered in my ear, way too close for comfort.
I almost jumped out of my translucent skin but held it together, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she had freaked me out. I cleared my throat, trying to sound cool, "Bit rude to get all touchy-feely when we haven't even been properly introduced, don't you think?"
"And it's rather improper to go showing off all that bare skin to a complete stranger, don't you think?" She shot back, amusement lacing her tone. Her hands started kneading my shoulders with the precision of a professional masseuse, "Well, I will admit, that wasn't my finest jest, especially considering you are in your ethereal form and missing your most prized... possession."
Her words barely registered. I was too busy enjoying the unexpected bliss of her touch. It felt... divine. I mean, who knew the afterlife came with complimentary massages?
"Isn't it just the strangest feeling, like I'm cradling your very soul in my hands? Quite the magical moment, wouldn't you say?" She asked, her tone disturbingly twisted, making me almost relieved that the absence of my little soldier prevented me from having a physical reaction to her touch.
After what felt like an eternity of fighting off inappropriate sounds of pleasure, her hands finally left my shoulders, "That was your first gift." She said, her voice thick with satisfaction, "Now, let's move on to the second."
Before I could ask what the hell she meant by that, she lifted me effortlessly off the ground and spun me around like I weighed nothing. Which, I guess, in this ghostly form, I probably didn't.
"So, do I align with your desires?" She asked with a grin as I took in her towering, more-than-eight-feet-tall (more than 2.44 meters tall) figure. Her Viking-style armor gleamed in the sterile light, her predatory smile revealing sharp, white teeth.
For a second, I was speechless, just staring at her like an idiot. I mean, sure, I had been into tall women before, but this was something else. She was built like a Valkyrie straight out of Norse mythology, all power and strength with golden braids hanging down to her hips and deep blue eyes that promised violence, and maybe a little fun. Scars crisscrossed her arms, legs, and neck, each one telling a story I probably didn't want to hear.
Once I managed to find my voice, I smirked back, trying to match her confidence, "I would say yes without hesitation if I ever had the imagination to dream up someone like you."
She chuckled, clearly pleased with herself, "You have good taste Harry." She said, leaning in closer, her eyes flashing with a hunter's intent, "It's a shame I must release you."
I was oddly disappointed by that but kept my cool, "Could you, uh, clarify that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning in a little closer myself, trying to get the upper hand.
She looked at my lips for a second (okay, that was unexpected), before pulling back with a sly grin. "By casting your mother into chains, you created a ripple that stilled the tides of chaos. And as a reward, I get the 'pleasure' of giving you a fresh start in a realm that holds your heart."
Wait. What? Did she just say what I think she did? My mind raced, piecing together her words, and then it hit me. There was only one world that came to mind when she said 'a realm that holds your heart'.
My eyes widened in disbelief, "You are not... you don't mean..."
The Valkyrie grinned and hummed a familiar tune, "Naaa-naaa, na-na-na..." She was mimicking the Game of Thrones theme song, the unmistakable melody confirming my suspicions.
Before I could start celebrating, a more pressing question formed in my head, "What about my father? When will I see him again?"
Her expression softened, her tone almost... kind, "He is in the halls of the divinity he reveres. Fear not, your paths will cross again when the time of your second passing arrives."
Well, that was... surprisingly reassuring. I filed that information away for later, ready to focus on my immediate future, "So, what are the terms of this 'fresh start'?" I asked, a little wary of what that actually meant.
She smirked, "You do not get to choose when or where you will be reborn, but rest assured, your desires and needs are known. Good health, memory retention, and entry into one of the Great Houses are guaranteed. Plus... a few extra perks."
The lack of control on my fate irked me, but she seemed resolute, so I let it go, "Perks?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Three wishes." She said, pausing just long enough for my excitement to build before deflating it completely, "But no magic, no supernatural powers, and nothing beyond reason."
"Okay, Mom." I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes at the restrictions.
"You are fortunate that I have an affinity for such inclinations, son." She retorted shamelessly without missing a beat.
I shot her a judging look, then sighed, realizing I had to get my head in the game. These three wishes could make or break me in Westeros, "This is going to take some serious thought." I mused aloud, already considering my options.
She smiled again, this time with a little more warmth, "Take all the time you need. I have all the time in the realms for you."
(Six hours later)
I guess her patience wasn't as infinite as she claimed.
"BY THE GODS! YOU TRIUMPH, YOU INSUFFERABLE WRETCH!" The Valkyrie bellowed, veins practically exploding on her forehead as she fought the overwhelming urge to smack me into next week. Finally, she had cracked over my last wish, one she had been stubbornly refusing for hours just because it technically involved magic. Petty, right?
"You could have sent me on my merry way three hours ago if you had just agreed from the start." I couldn't resist, stepping a little closer and tilting my cheek toward her, the very spot where she had insisted she had to kiss me to seal the whole reincarnation deal. Right. Sure. I was 100% certain she made that up just to mess with me, but honestly, I didn't mind. Our little back-and-forth had its perks.
"Time to send me off, don't you think?" I said, tapping my cheek with a finger to nudge her along.
"A mere kiss upon the cheek, is it?" Her voice dropped into this silky, ominous tone that made the hairs on my neck stand up, "After everything you have put me through, darling, I shall not be satisfied with just that."
Before I could even blink, everything went blurry. The next few seconds were a complete whirlwind. But the lingering taste of something sweet on my lips before my mind spiraled into darkness? Yeah, that told me all I needed to know.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Barbare
Barbare Well, that’s a wrap for the Prologue. If you enjoyed the journey so far and want to see more slightly questionable creative decisions from me, I hope you will consider supporting this fanfiction with your comments and your power stones. See you this wednesday for the next chapter!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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