the secret to moving on

The Catacombs were a nice place to rest, Katerina thought. It was silent, relaxing, perfect to think, and even more perfect to cry. Nearly everyone who went there to cry, to mourn, to talk to loved ones who had already passed. Which was why Katerina didn't feel out of place as she sat before a random grave, like she'd done the previous years.

The only difference? This time, she didn't cry. Maybe it was finally acceptance, after three years. She still had the nightmares, once in a while, and she did still cry sometimes when she thought of that day, but those occurrences were getting each day rarer.

For the first time, she didn't cry on the day of her sister's death.

Kyrie slipped through the darkness as if he was part of it. A walking dead, that was what he was. So fascinated with the world he did not belong in, only the barest slip of sanity he still had kept him from joining the dearly parted.

The dead knew secrets. Secrets the Kyrie knew as well. No one else quite knew what to do with secrets. They ate at the man, burning, yearning for a way out, but he wouldn't give in. Ky would not let them.

"You are not dead."

The man was quite surprised, in fact, to run into someone who still had breath to share. He wasn't sure if he was quite disappointed, as he often was above ground. Maybe here, in his den of death, he finally found a need for human life.

"You're sad. Does death make you sad?"

Katerina didn't bother looking up at the sound of footsteps. It could've been anybody and, really, she had nothing to hide. Nothing to be ashamed of, for the first time. To anyone passing by, she could just be a young girl, using the Catacombs as a quiet place to think. It wasn't a complete lie. It was almost a whole truth.

"No, I am not," she muttered, her gaze still on the ground. She looked up at the man and shrugged, "A bit. Not death itself, more the fact that I won't get to see the person until I die."

"I don't think Death should make us said," the man said, inviting himself to sit by the girl with no warning. He was trapped in a vein of thought and he certainly wasn't going to give away to anything else for fear he might lose it. "Death is more powerful than sad. Its more powerful than God... it is a god."

His gaze was glazed not focused on anything within the dark catacombs, instead he was lost in his mind, running through all the thoughts he had, all the ones he didn't understand.

"I am Death, Destroyer of Worlds."

Katerina's eyes never left the man, thinking over every word he said. She didn't quite understand where he was getting, though she supposed she agreed, at least partially. Death was powerful, that was true. Death was the end for everyone. That was what made everyone equal - they all died. But more powerful than God, could that be possible? If there really was a God, that is, would Death have more power? Gods didn't die. Death had no power over them. Perhaps it was true, perhaps Death was a god itself.

She wasn't scared of dying. She was scared of losing people to Death. At his next words, Katerina raised an eyebrow. "You are Death?" she asked, incredulous, but only moments later started thinking of the possibilities. Either he was possessed, or he was crazy. She really hoped it was the latter. They said there was only a small difference between crazy and genius, anyway.

"Do you not think people can be Death? Do not people bring about their own death, destruction or that of other peoples. Maybe there is no such thing as death, only people."

His far away gaze drifted back to the girl in front of him, something almost lucid slipping into his gaze, and when he spoke again he sounded more like the professor that he was supposed to be, than the lost unstable boy he was.

"I was a quote, a Muggle scientist said it after he helped create the weapon that destroyed an entire city. He thought that was enough to make him death."

"People kill people, that is true," Katerina agreed, "But that isn't enough to make them Death. People cannot decide other people's fates." She wouldn't believe in that. She couldn't stand thinking that someone could decide her own fate. No, only she would decide her fate. She didn't even believe God decided your fate from the beginning, she thought that was ridiculous. It was being controlled, something she would not be. If Death came for her, she would go because she'd be ready. She'd go on her own terms.

But then how did that explain her mother killing her sister? Was she not to blame, then? Was her sister ready? No. No. She refused to believe that as well. In her mind, that was an exception. Those were very different things.

She wasn't sure what she believed in anymore.

"Ah, a quote. Of course," she said, noting the change in his eyes. She gave it no further thought. Death must fascinate him as it confused her.

Kyrie listened to her speak without really focusing upon it. His mind on the matter was already settled and as such he was having trouble focusing on anything else at the moment.

"People decide others fates all the time; or if not they help other's decide for themselves merely by being there. We are all pawns of fate. Fate, Death, beginnings, ends."

Ky's voice began to drop off as he wasn't entirely sure what he was listing any more, nor if there was even a point to be made.