There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL) novel Chapter 173

Chapter 173: Chapter 167. Void of the Soul

There were times when Zein wondered what it would be like if he could see his mother now. What it would feel like if she was still alive somehow, somewhere.

Times, when he looked at the picture of her smiling face, laughing at someone he knew now, was his father.

He had wondered if she would come up in his dream someday, now that he knew what she looked like. He wondered if she would be young, just at the age when she had him. Or would she grow up with him, a decadently beautiful, lovely woman.

He wondered about seeing her in many forms.

But not this.

The blue eyes were as pretty as his, if only they weren’t looking so hollow. If only they weren’t placed above sunken cheeks and cracked lips. If only the fingers caressing him weren’t so cold and bony.

The woman in front of him bore his mother’s face. But it was also the face of the women in the red-zone. Wretched. Bitter. Riddled with misery, abuse, and hunger.

"Look at you," the bony fingers caressed Zein’s frozen cheek, as the cracked and dry lips stretched into a smile. "Growing up so beautiful. So vibrant. So..." she paused, pressing her thumbs on Zein’s cheeks before continuing in a breathless voice, "...plump."

And then she laughed, a shrill voice that crushed his heart as those cold fingers left his cheek. They traveled down his neck, and shoulder, and back, as she moved to his side while speaking in a mocking cheerfulness. "Oh, the thing I had to endure to make sure you were born..."

Zein felt a breathy sigh on his neck, as the thin arms hugged him softly from behind, palm caressing his hair.

"Ah, my son..." the voice felt so near, a voice that couldn’t be real, because Zein couldn’t even remember it. "If I didn’t have you...don’t you think I’ll be able to live?"

It was like thin needles being stabbed one by one into his heart, as she voiced out his mind like a spell. "If I never had you, if I stay without a child--Yes! If I stay without a child, no one would bother me, no one would bother us!"

The caressing hands stopped, gripping his upper arms as she suddenly appeared in front of him again, sunken face glowing bright like a remnant of an old photograph. "I can just stay happily married! Happily in love! Ah...the life we could have if it’s just the two of us!"

Of course. Of course, they could. They might even get rid of the other faction, and live happily ever after. Peacefully, happily, like on their wedding days. They were already so in love with each other, the world would be enough with just the two of them.

A perfect picture, framed in beautiful glass, and shattered into pieces.

Ah...Zein understood now. Right. This was his soul space. This was what he had been thinking, what he had been feeling. This was everything swirling in his head, manifested in a more tangible manner so he could see it as it was.

The sharp thorn and the broken pieces.

"Don’t you think so, Dear?" he didn’t know since when, but the cold hands had left his body. Her voice was coming behind him again, a bit distant now, and Zein turned to chase it.

And there she was, embracing a bloody, maimed figure. "My darling..." she caressed the pale cheek and blue lips, wailing against the caking dry blood. "Oh, my poor darling!" _{ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com}

This time, Zein could feel the tremble, traveling through his spine and his limbs. The limbs that his father didn’t have, shattered into million pieces of ice.

The stormy eyes stared blankly, lifelessly at him, and the blue lips cracked open. "Ah, my son looks so healthy," it was a hoarse, low voice that reminded Zein of steel and iron. He wondered if he had heard of it before--perhaps he was, once upon a time in his mother’s womb. The blue lips smile, as he continued, laying in the arms of his weeping wife. "He’s probably never had to be surrounded by dozens of trained killers for hours, huh."

No, he never had.

"Certainly," the blue eyes stared at him, framed in bloody tears. "He’s probably never had to run in the middle of the winter carrying another human and giving birth in the middle of nowhere."

No, he certainly never had. And never will.

"How lucky,"

"So lucky,"

"If it wasn’t a boy...we don’t have to be killed,"

"Yes! If there’s no child, we could just live happily ever after!"

Yes. Yes, they certainly would. Zein closed his eyes. He agreed with everything, so he just crouched down and let them talk. Who knew when he could hear his parents talk like this? Who knew if he could still remember how they sounded after he came out of this space?

"How old are you now?" he heard his father asked. "Ah...are we of the same age?"

No, his father was twenty-nine then, a bit more than a year older than him.

"Lucky you..." the low voice resounded, distantly, as if it was dispersing. "You can live nicely from now on, huh?" and then, before it vanished, "Living the life we couldn’t have?"

Zein opened his eyes with a start. His father’s voice was overlapping with other voices. Other more...familiar voices.

"Right," two pairs of hands grabbed his crouching legs then, as his parents vanished, melted into the darkness. "Living the life we couldn’t have..."

No. Zein clenched his jaw. Not them. Not--