Breaking the Cycle

With her nigh indomitable powers of hypnosis, Lilith had quickly found a vessel to sail her to the newly discovered continent of Kos. Only a few days into the journey, she had encountered other ships piloted by monsters, all of whom referred to themselves as Reapers as Thorn and Lupin did, sailing East as she was. Joining their vessel had been a necessary choice; the sailors had all inevitably become a victim to her growing deviance. Sadly, the crew were all men, so she had to make due with slaughtering them all and using them to fuel her powers to even greater heights. Despite her newfound affinity for water magyk, Lilith was reluctant to test her abilities on account that she had little to no experience swimming.

For some reason, many Reapers also felt the same compulsion to travel to the elvish continent. Some had no reason, but felt the pull and obliged. Others reasoned that they had dreams of conquest in this “New World” and wished to find it there. The more knowledgeable and experienced concluded that the elves were in shambles following their civil war, and it would be the perfect opportunity to infest the undergrowth as they made the laborious efforts to rebuild while others were temporarily relocated to Oros.

The metaphorical shadow over Kos, cast over the land by the centuries of violence by the Elves, proved to be the perfect cover of darkness for the Reapers to build their own civilization. Lilith hadn’t bothered to participate in the politics that soon began as Reapers created their own government. It had been troublesome. Many times they had to relocate their civilization for fear of being discovered by the Elves left behind to rebuild their homes.

It hadn’t been long before she had been exiled. Maybe only a few decades. Time seemed to flow so much faster now that she was no longer drifting along its currents. Every now and again, perhaps bored by the monotony of her imprisonment in Atlanta, or a shade of her old humanity resurfacing, Lily would remember the fates of some of her victims in her long career of killing and conquests.

While their journey together had been brief– only a few weeks at most– Lily did remember Thorn and Lupin almost fondly. The brothers had been prone to violent outbursts. While their anger had never been directed towards her, the two had been especially vindictive to any hapless traveler or villager that had crossed their paths. Lily had made sure to give them a wide berth while together, but they had generally been very friendly towards her, even going so far as to offer to kidnap a milkmaid or advisor for her pleasure or recovery from Rhodes’ assault on her. They had teased her on her inability to swim once, but Lily could tell it had been without malice. She actually had finally made an effort to learn how to after being stranded in Atlanta– It wasn’t like she had anything better to do or had anyone to judge her poor technique. If she hadn’t killed them and added their power to her own, would they have become genuine friends? Their reflections materialized in the fountain’s waters, and to Lily it felt like their seeming ambivalence was silent judgment on the predicament she found herself in.

“Shut up,” she said absently to the phantoms.

Thorn and Lupin said nothing, continuing in silent condemnation.

The mirages, at least Lily believed that they were mirages – They had never actually spoken to her since killing them– remained behind at the fountain as she made her way towards another section of the city.

Lily stopped in the middle of Atlanta’s downtown. Her temper flared, then all at once died out. How long has she been stuck here now? How… How could she have been thrown away by the Altif Empire when she knew for a fact there were other Reapers worse than her? Were there other Reapers also banished and confined to cities as she was? Was her predicament enacted by the command of some official or noble she had slighted one too many times, or had it been given directly from the tiresome tyrant twins that led the Empire? Was it her own fault for adhering to Baltizar’s policy of organized anarchy, or Savitar’s stance on being the loyal opposition, or had she misunderstood their impassioned speeches on how they’d bring the Altif Empire to greatness against the rest of Axis? Or was this punishment handed to her by some other authority, one she had never really considered legitimate or real?

Were the Divinity… real?

Had her transformation and banishment been some kind of retribution by some divine personages that demand unreasonable worship and sacrifice? Was there actually a pantheon of gods? Was this some divine punishment? If it was, why was it only her and not the rest of the Reapers? Surely she wasn’t the most wicked out of all the Reapers?

Alone with her thoughts, the increasing likelihood of unknowable gods being responsible for her change chilled her bones. How could such beings responsible be worthy of following? Her own life had taken a turn for the worse after her transformation.

Was Lilith a gift or a curse? In the beginning, it certainly felt like the former. Lilith saved her from Rhodes, and enabled her to take revenge against those who wronged her. It allowed her to find safety and freedom in the Altif Empire. But Lilith was also why she was now trapped here in Atlanta, bound to the fallen city after slaughtering the men and raping their women.

And now, she was alone.

Maybe… maybe she was cursed.

The isolation gnawed at her. Her stomach groaned at her. She didn’t need anything, but old habits were hard to ignore. Lily probably hasn’t eaten anything in years. Animals had long ago learned to avoid Atlanta, depriving her of her last source of sustenance once she became the sole inhabitant of the city.

A voice in the distance reached her ears, and Lily nearly tripped over herself hearing it. Was that what people sounded like? She raced towards the source, unsure if it was spurred on by hunger, deviance or the need to interact with someone, anyone. Maybe it was a combination of all three. While the voice was indistinct, Lily wanted it to belong to a girl. She hoped it was a girl.

Lily rounded a corner, delving further in the downtown of Atlanta, and nearly bowled someone over. Whoever it was, was big! The impact sent Lily flying on her backside, and she groaned lightly.

Please be a muscular woman, She pleaded to whatever gods might be listening.

“By the Divine,” A masculine voice exclaimed above her, breaking her spirit. It seemed that if the gods existed they wanted to torture her. “I didn’t think I’d find anyone here. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Looking up, Lily realized that she had bumped into a clergyman. One that had apparently decided to retire as a pastor after a career in bodybuilding. Kindly brown eyes gazed back at her, brimming with concern and a lifetime of compassion and generosity. She took one look at him and the carnal emotions that whirled inside her vanished in an instant. He was attractive, to be sure, but Lily only karced women, and having a man here dried her up faster than rainfall in the Ruya Desert.

After a moment, Lily registered that his voice, while still understandable, was a discerningly different accent from the various locales that she had visited all over Oros. It sounded like Common, but different. A new dialect perhaps?

“Ugh, yeah, I’m fine. Nothing is ruined,” She answered off-handedly, hoping her disappointment wasn’t obvious. “Except my hopes and libido.” Lily added under her breath ruefully.

The old man extended a hand, which Lily reluctantly accepted. “I was under the impression these ruins were uninhabited,” the priest remarked. “What's a raven haired lass doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she countered, crossing her arms. “What’s a priest doing in a dump like this?”

He laughed heartily. It sounded oddly comforting. Like a grandfather reassuring their grandchild. “You got a quick tongue on yourself,” He admitted, grinning. “I remember shooting barbs with my sister like that when we were young. Fair enough. I heard tell that the area was cursed and thought I’d give purifying the area an ole runaround.”

“Cursed?” Lily repeated. She wrapped her arms together behind her head. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about this place being cursed. Maybe lonely, but I’ve only lived here almost my entire life, so maybe the place is still hiding some secrets from me.

“My name is Lily by the way,” She added sheepishly.

“You can call me Father Basil,” the priest replied, jovially clapping her on the back. “Nice ta meet ya!”

Even upright, Basil towered over her, who must have had a good foot and a half advantage over Lily’s nearly six feet of height. With some squinting, they could perhaps even be mistaken for relatives. Seeing his perpetual smile and glistening eyes ruined Lily’s appetite, and in the end, her craving for social interaction won out.

“Hopefully you didn't have to travel very far to get here," Lily said as casually as she could. Just how long has it been since I've had the chance to just talk with someone? She wondered idly. "It'd be a shame to come all this way only to find out the area isn't as cursed as you thought."

Basil chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about that," he reassured her. "The city's been abandoned for over a hundred years. And if not, I’ll have a story for church next time I’m asked to speak."

His statement chilled her blood. I've been here for a hundred years?! Lily almost replied in surprise. She managed to disguise it as if she was clearing her throat.

“I’m just surprised I ran into someone that wants to live here,” Father Basil continued without noticing Lily’s behavior. “What would prompt a lass such as yourself to abandon civilization for these empty streets and haunted halls?”

“Well, first off, I’m not a lass, whatever that means,” Lily snapped back to the first person she had met in centuries. He had no right to criticize how her life went, no matter how poorly it’s gone for her all these years.

The priest kept smiling at her, but Lily could see that she had hurt him. The subtle way his eyes shifted, wincing from the venom in her words while continuing to present a comforting smile on his face somehow only made her feel guilty. Way to make a good impression on the first person you’ve met in centuries, she chided herself.

“What I meant to say,” amended Lily, softening her tone. “Is I feel like I have more in common with the echoes of those long gone than those of the here and now.”

“Hmm,” grunted Basil. “You say that, but you seemed all too eager for socialization running into me like a headless chicken before starting an intimate relationship with the ground.”

“I did not!” Lily bit back, anger rising as the priest began to guffaw at his own joke. She felt her blood rush to her cheeks as he wiped a tear from his eye in mirth. Her indignation faded away as she realized he meant no malice. As humiliated as he made her feel, Lily somehow found the willpower to chuckle along with him.

“Well, I guess you’re not completely wrong,” Lily grumbled, hating herself for admitting it. The confession caught herself off guard. She had never been one to let herself be so vulnerable! Had the isolation really affected her that much?

Was she really so lonely?

“Augh, solitude is fine and good,” Basil proclaimed, clapping her on the back almost with enough force to reacquaint her with the ground. “But how’s about we make towards the park? I got some rations I can share with ya, and tomorrow I can see what I can do about the curse.”

Above them, the sun had already begun its downward descent towards the horizon. While they still had time for Basil to perform his purification of the city, it struck Lily as odd that he would want to wait until the following day to begin it.

Basil gave another hearty laugh when she voiced that concern. “Aye, I could do that,” He said, eyes twinkling. “But then we wouldn’t be able to tour the ruins and get to know each other some more if I put business before pleasure, now would we?”

She considered it. Again, her overwhelming need for social companionship won out against her better nature. And he was offering food. Lily couldn’t remember the last time she had eaten anything. Her stomach roared in agreement, loud enough to make Basil laugh again and Lily blush in embarrassment.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Agreed Lily. “C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

Basil proved to be a wonderful addition to Lily’s isolation. He was upbeat, friendly, and valued everything she had to say about Atlanta. Of course, she had to be careful about the information she shared, lest the priest realize she was immensely older than she really was. But interacting with him helped Lily recover a part of herself she desperately needed: companionship. As their conversations continued, Lily began to realize she was growing too attached to the man and was at risk of divulging the truth of her predicament.

“I never asked,” She said brusquely. “What denomination are you a priest for?”

His eyes twinkled again. A sign that told Lily she found a subject he was abjectly proud of. “Oh, I serve the Brotherhood of the Deep,” answered Basil. “I’m primarily based in the town of Ril up north of here, but I’ve been invited to speak at almost every chapter where there is a coastline.”

The name seemed to spark some kind of recognition to Lily, and after a moment she realized he was speaking of the same religion her erstwhile lover Vera had been part of long ago. A seed of fear began to take root inside her. Was the knowledge of Vera’s demise discovered by the Brotherhood of the Deep, recorded and safeguarded all these generations for a divinely appointed arbiter of justice to avenge for the sin of fornicating and unwitting murder of a member of their congregation in cold blood? Was Basil here to kill her? Did he know that the curse he kept referring to was in fact Lilith herself? Was death even still possible for her?

Her sudden nervous disposition did not go unnoticed. For the first time since meeting one another, Basil frowned. He began to study her intently, and Lily felt her heart quicken.

“I know you said you like being out here ‘n all,” Father Basil began slowly. “But, is there any other reason why you would be depriving yourself of the pleasures of social activity? You can tell me, as a priest, or as a stranger you’ll never see again, if that’ll help ease your mind.”

His offer, while sincere, washed away the fear in her mind as she chuckled in response. “Are you asking me to participate in confession?” Lily asked, still giggling. “I don’t think I’ve done that since I was a little girl!”

Concern replacing the sparkle, Basil’s eyes reexamined her. “Confession is meant to relieve us of burdens we are given, cleanse us of our sins.” He replied. “Why would you not participate in something meant to help you?”

“I would hardly think speaking to someone’s god would be able to help me cleanse my ‘sins’,” retorted Lily. She examined her fingers. “Especially after how many I’ve gotten after all these years.”

Basil’s expression changed from concerned to pity. Lily was surprised by how much it hurt to see him look at her like that. “So, you don’t believe,” He said with finality. “Why?”

A simple question. One Lily had been asked so many times by Gardenia. One that filled her with irritation every time before. But now, she only felt tired as he asked her. The flames of her disbelief had been pared down to only embers by the solitude of her exile.

Why?

“My mother was religious,” Lily found herself saying. She was alarmed by how willingly the words came out. Drawing her legs back in, she continued, “She was very devoted. I can’t remember what, but she made more time for her God than for me. I had to fight someone that didn’t even exist for my own mother’s attention.”

“So your relationship with your mother created your unbelief,” prompted Basil. “Or was it merely a symptom of the underlying issue?”

His question, simple yet telling, cut through Lily’s focus. She looked at the priest, as if seeing him clearly for the first time. Even as she opened her mouth to argue against it, she knew in her heart that he was right. It wasn’t her mother’s fault she didn’t believe. But then, what was?

“Who are you?” she wondered thoughtfully.

Basil chuckled. “I’m me.” He answered with such confidence and authenticity that Lily couldn’t help but believe him. The priest pulled out a strip of jerky and offered it to her. “But who are you?”

“I’m me,” she repeated, taking the jerky. Lily didn’t sound convinced by own statement.

“Then what makes you, you?” Father Basil continued. “Something must have happened for you to not believe. It is as integral to your identity as my belief is in mine.”

“I’m not sure, do you really want my life story?” Lily joked self deprecatingly. “I’ve… I’ve done stuff I’m not proud of. Probably a lot of things you might consider heresy.”

“I’ve heard my fair share of heresy over the decades,” Basil quipped. “And we’ve only had to throw a heretic off a cliff two and a half times.”

As he stared at her horrified expression, the priest added, “Okay, hearing that out of context does make us sound terrible, but a lot of arguments against religion remove the context to make their stance more justified.

“Let’s start with establishing some groundwork,” Father Basil amended. “What is God to you? God to me is Ah’qutros, the creator of the realm and basis of worship for the Brotherhood of the Deep.”

Lily thought for a moment. “If God were real,” She said slowly, thinking as she spoke and trying to make sense out of the memories and knowledge she developed. Why was she going along with this? I don’t believe, because I don’t enjoy the thought of… was that an inkling as to her disbelief? That trail of thought Lily refused to finish? “If God were real… Why would I want to worship Him?”

Father Basil scratched his beard. “Hmm, not the first question I would have thought of, but it's something we can still work with,” he said constructively. “I worship Ah’qutros because He has been kind to me, and anointed me as a Speaker to His followers as a reward for my faithfulness. My God is not the only one in this world of religions though. I know the House of Axis has their One Armed King and the Divinity, and ever since the war ended between the elves, they have started to worship some kind of Mistress of Flames; isn’t that fascinating by the way, a religious movement still in its infancy, only three hundred years old! But I suppose as a man of faith, it isn’t as rare as I was led to believe that there are some who choose not to believe in a higher power.”

“Maybe I said the wrong thing earlier,” Lily admitted. “I’ve seen evidence of divine acts. I believe there are gods. But I still don’t see why I should worship any of them.”

“Ah, that makes some more sense,” reasoned Father Basil. “That makes things more personal, in a way. Your relationship with the gods, or lack of one, I mean. Is there anything that might explain why you don’t want to worship any?”

Lily’s mood soured as she thought of an answer. “Well, the gods sure took their sweet time revealing that I could use magyk,” She said grimly, conjuring a whip of water from the fountain that struck the ground between them. A pit of dirt appeared where the tendril made contact, an ominous point of evidence as the water receded back towards its source. Basil yelped in surprise who then turned it into a nervous chuckle.

“Or maybe their religion turned my mother into a fanatic, and my father into an alcoholic who left us,” Lily went on. “I had to raise myself while my parents were doing karck all with their god on the altar or in their bottle.

“I could keep going,” She continued, her anger rising. “Like how my lifestyle didn’t appease the gods, so they turned me into a freak that lives in ruins!”

The moment the words left her mouth, Lily cursed to herself. If Basil had any suspicions about her previously, accidentally alluding that she was a Reaper would cement them. Was the existence of Reapers common knowledge in the centuries since joining the others on Kos? Were Reapers hunted for sport or principle?

Father Basil took a few moments to collect his thoughts before speaking. When he finally did, he spoke with a weight to his words that hadn’t been there previously. “Is that why you live out here all alone?” He asked somberly. “Because you think the gods would punish you so harshly?”

“No,” She sighed. Might as well rip off the bandage. “I live out here because the gods have punished me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Then let me show you,” Lily said, standing up, transforming into Lilith. “I’m an amoral monster that kills and karcs who I please and was banished to this shithole of a city for my trouble.”

The priest recoiled at the sight of her scaled and iridescent form, tripping over himself as he began to put some distance between them. The sight of the old man backpedaling on all fours was oddly entertaining and depressing to Lilith. She beckoned wearily to Basil. “Relax, it’s still me,” She reassured him. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“How can I believe you?” He raised his eyebrow with a healthy amount of skepticism. The previously priestly and friendly facade was gone, replaced with fear and perhaps even some disdain. “Transformations are a sin before most every god in the pantheon of the Divines. Everything you said could be a lie.”

Lilith gestured to the both of them. “And yet you’re still living is evidence to the contrary. I’m not feeling bloodthirsty… yet. I’m feeling…” She sighed, then finally forced out the word. “Lonely.”

To his credit, Father Basil seemed to reluctantly agree. As much as it irritated her to think it, she was glad the old man slowly stepped closer to her again.

“You’re lonely,” He repeated, as if the idea was preposterous.

“Go ahead, rub it in.” Lilith whined, her ire rising. “You try spending centuries in this shithole of a city and not come out lonely.”

“Pardon?” Basil exclaimed, eyes widening. “You… you’ve spent centuries in this city? How? Why?”

Faced with his questions, the Reaper found herself unable to answer them. She had grappled with the question of who she had crossed constantly until the names of all the others had faded from her memory, like a horse’s shoe worn until it became useless. Oddly, the priest didn’t accuse her of being the blighted curse on Atlanta, which she appreciated.

“Because… because I’m not a good person.” She said in defeat, sitting down and hugging her legs. Tears threatened to overcome her. “I don’t think I know how to be a good person. I’ve killed everyone who has tried to get close to me. And the other Reapers got rid of me as soon as they were able.”

Almost as if the floodgates had been opened, Lilith bared her soul to the priest. Her deviances, her murders, her wrath, everything that made her the monster she is. Father Basil soon learned more about her than anyone had ever learned about her before. As much as a relief it was, she hated that it was to a man, worse, a man of faith. Why couldn’t he have been a woman, so that they could envelope each other in their arms by a fire of their making, laying her soul bare to someone who could make the hurt go away with ripples of pleasure and love?

It seemed as if Father Basil embodied the very problem Lilith now had. Her agonizing isolation brought to heel thanks to his presence, but that same presence aggravating her bloodlust. She wanted to kill him, but needed him alive. Her tail twitched in agitation, betraying her inner turmoil.

Maybe if I just killed him a little bit, the priest wouldn’t mind, right?

Despite the jerky he had given her, a new hunger filled her. She wanted him. Dead. Flesh flayed from his body and inside her stomach. Lilith grumbled. How long had it been since she had feasted on another? She pictured herself gnawing on his leg, and Lilith felt her mouth water.

Lilith reached out towards Basil, and the priest mistook her action for wanting more dried meat. He offered some, only for her to recoil as her senses returned to her.

“What’s wrong?” The man asked, noticing her behavior.

“I’m… I’m hungry,” She admitted, taking a few steps away from him. “And not for jerky.”

Father Basil’s eyes widened in fear again as he realized just what she meant. He took another shaky step away from her, and Lilith couldn’t blame him. Then, to her surprise, the priest’s unease faded away, replaced with a determination she hadn’t seen before. His brown eyes became firm, like a tree withstanding a maelstrom. Seeing him stand defiant filled her with admiration, and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

Wait, she knew what it was: indignation. It felt good to feel this towards someone else. So why wasn’t the man fleeing for his very life?

“Why won’t you run?” Lilith demanded, her tail pounding the ground next to Father Basil. “Everyone tries to get away from me!”

“Because I believe you desperately want to be a good person,” the Priest said simply. His voice oozed compassion and sincerity. “And that you don’t want to kill me either.”

She almost believed him.

But she believed that he believed in her, and for the moment, that was enough. Exercising all her willpower, she managed to change back to her human form, and collapsed from exhaustion. Still ravenous, Lily weakly searched around her for the jerky she had been given, and began to crawl towards the bush where she spotted it. The dried dirty meat was barely in her grasp when she inhaled it, hardly allowing any time to chew before swallowing.

Lily inhaled deeply, and coughed hard. When the fit subsided, she was acutely aware of Father Basil behind her, watching her. Looking back towards him, he returned her gaze with a curious, slightly troubled expression.

“Would you believe me if I told you I ate that so I wouldn’t eat you?” She asked sheepishly.

“I have more in my bag,” He replied without judgment, tossing it towards her. “I’m sure it tastes better than I ever will.

“That was… certainly something,” Basil continued. “Were you actually going to… would you have actually killed and ate me?”

She rummaged through the bag before answering. Stacks of jerky, with an aroma so intoxicating she could feel her stomach beg for more. Lily savored a plank of protein before answering. “Everything changed when I became a monster,” She admitted. “I never killed anyone before becoming Lilith. Worst thing I ever did prior was some petty crime. So why would I worship a God who saw fit to punish an unbeliever for living the only way they knew how to?

“On an unrelated note, didja know that humans taste like pork? I would have thought chicken since everything tastes like chicken, but no, we taste like pigs!”

Her attempt at humor, dark as it was, did at least convince Father Basil to force himself to smile – is it possible to grimace while smiling, Lily wondered.

“I didn’t,” Basil answered. He looked like he might be getting sick. “That must have been an intriguing revelation.” She grunted in agreement, too busy tearing through the rest of the supplies to answer properly.

Lily took a moment to breathe, burping in satisfaction. The craving she felt to feast on the priest had abated. But it would likely return later. It always returned.

The only question was whether Basil remained in Atlanta by the time it did.

“How long will you be staying here?” She asked tentatively.

His reply was instant.

“Until the curse is broken.”

As it turned out, Father Basil had been a carpenter prior to joining his coven. He offered his services to build a hut for her right in the park. He hadn’t questioned her when she asked if it was possible. She was glad; There weren’t as many victims here. Basil also proved himself a capable survivalist, and was able to properly teach Lily how she could survive after he was gone – She immediately realized he never said if it was when he left or was killed by her darker impulses. His determination to help inspired her, without thought for payment or reward, humbled the Ghost.

“Serving others is reward enough,” Father Basil said when she mentioned not having anything to pay him. “You're cursed to survive. Helping you really live might break it.”

They had started working together separately. Lily had been worried her blood lust would break out at an inopportune time, so Basil had crafted precise instructions for her to follow regarding construction, gardening, foraging and preserving meat. She had been thoroughly impressed when on the first day, basil had departed Atlanta for the surrounding forest and single handedly returned with logs, instructing her to slice them into specific shapes using her own water magyk. Having only used her magyk sparingly, and mostly for destructive reasons, it felt uniquely gratifying to have a hand in constructing something for her own benefit that wasn’t momentary pleasure.

“The animals normally return to reclaim lands abandoned by people,” Basil said by way of greeting after a return from a particularly long absence hunting. The majority of foods he had acquired were mostly small game, but the highlight had been a particularly large dragonfly strapped to his back. It was as long as Lily’s leg and surprisingly juicy once she had gathered up the courage to try the fried insect. “However, your presence and power scares them from coming, despite being the only one. So we must entice them to return by invigorating the ecosystem.” He handed her the collection of small game. “Bury these where the dirt is soft. Next week, we will plant seeds that will feed on them, and their bounty will entice the animals to return.” Basil chuckled to himself. “Once they see that you mean them no harm, as I do, you will not be so lonely anymore.”

By the dawn of the third week, Lily found the Father’s words prophetic already. A shadow flew from the sky, landing close to one of the mounds where she had repeatedly buried the rabbits and squirrels. The bird dug clumsily with its talons, unearthing one of the carcasses, which it then seized and returned to the open air. Lily felt her heart melt as she saw the majesty of the bird; and she had excitedly roused Basil from his own sleep to share the childlike joy she felt. “Aye, Black Eagles are known to roost near here during their migratin’ season,” He managed to explain, struggling to stay awake. “Means we’re doin’ somethin’ right.”

Lily took a moment to chew on the word. Black Eagle, she breathed. The creature was beautiful; she was determined to have one for herself.

Seeing how enamored she had been by the avian, Basil instructed her to gather as many twigs and scrap as possible to build a prospective home for the bird. Lily eagerly followed through with the recourse, and to Basil’s surprise, built several nests to entice as many as them as possible to the fallen city. “Maybe we should just set up an aviary,” He suggested afterwards.

After about a month of hard labor, Lily had a quaint cabin. It was barely furnished and still in need of refining, but she could bring over bedding and other amenities from the countless abandoned buildings and homes throughout the city. Basil was right: she had been surviving all these years alone. Now it was time to live.

“Thank you, Father Basil,” she murmured.

The Priest’s gravestone stood as a monument near her home. A kind but foolish man who should have stayed away, and like all the others, died because of her. Despite his passing, Lily didn’t feel quite so alone now, nor did she ever feel tempted to desecrate his grave. A final gift from her to him, she reasoned. One of the only gifts she could give the man.

As Lily observed her home in the park, surrounded by the ghosts of its inhabitants, she felt some form of guilt, but also satisfaction as well. She wasn’t the only Ghost of Atlanta.

Time to live.