Consumed By Grief Novels & Stories

Grief. My heart was grieving. Grieving with a sense of loss. That was when I heard a baby crying. That sound penetrated my ears, lifting all the fog, bringing me back to my senses. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

But he’s grieving, and grief can’t be fixed. “How do you know it was two—”

I’ve seen that rejection play out enough times to know. But maybe my dad would answer. I flipped the phone over in my hand and pinched the bridge of my nose. I felt my stomach twist. This wasn’t just about guilt. It wasn’t just about regret. It was grief. The quiet, endless kind of grief that comes from realizing you had something rare and beautiful… and you destroyed it. I thought of Cassiel and Aurielle again. How they’d look side by side. The way she smiled more now. The way she shined.

The power was feeding on something inside me, something deep and painful and overwhelming. Grief. I was grieving. Not just for what I'd seen in Lyralei's memory, but for everything I'd lost. My normal life. The simple joy of being just another college student. The friendships that had become complicated or broken. The innocence of not knowing monsters was real. I was grieving for the person I used to be, because that Maya was gone forever. The power built higher, feeding on the grief like fuel on a fire. The temperature in the warehouse dropped to freezing. Ice crystals formed on the metal walls. My feet lifted off the ground as silver-white energy swirled around me like a storm.

she said casually, “how are you really doing?” I hesitated, staring out at the drizzle streaking down the glass. “I don’t know. Some moments I feel… okay. Like I’m finally free. And then other moments, I feel like someone took a piece of me I’ll never get back.” She nodded thoughtfully. “That’s grief, babe. Not just for him, but for everything you thought you’d have.” I swallowed hard. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? To still miss him after everything.”

The respect of tears. The cost is immediate. And absolute. The act of mourning opens a door inside me. A door that can’t be closed. The grief of the Catalog isn’t just something I feel anymore. It’s something that flows through me. I become a conduit. A living, breathing wound for universal loss. The weight of it settles into my bones, my blood. It is a permanent, psychic scar. I will feel this, always. A low, constant hum of sorrow beneath my own life.

Silence. Then pain. Ancient pain. “You cannot pity me.” Hope pulsed softly. “Why not?” The corruption lashed violently through the bond. Black light exploded around the rooftop. The city trembled. “I AM WHAT REMAINS WHEN HOPE DIES.” The scream shook dimensions. The fractured sky split wider. The system flickered dangerously. The corruption’s true emotions flooded the bond. Grief. Endless grief. Not born from evil. Born from loss so absolute it consumed everything else.

Because of me. A weird feeling engulfed me. Was this grief? Pain? Regret? Whatever it was, it hurt like hell. My body refused to move, paralyzed by a grief so profound it threatened to consume me whole. I slowly pushed him off me and fell to the ground, my face staring up at the sky, the sound of the demon's laughter echoing around me and the sound of the battle around me. I wouldn't mind death at this point. It was a part of me that had been torn away.

“If you’re wondering if I am grieving in pain, dear daughter-in-law… What do you expect to see from me… Tears? Blood? Or Madness?” Callan squeezed my hand. I admit I was taken aback by the consequence of my trying to push through that wondering. “Pick one out of the three. If one co-exists with the other it would be the end of a person.” That ended the silence among us with a bang. Inside my chest, I have accepted defeat from grief, and right across me is the man who proved that grief can blindside you if you don’t take the lead.

Now, I barely had enough left to book this one suite. Suddenly, I felt it was all worthless. In this so-called pursuit of love, the first thing I lost was my own heart. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and my chest throbbed with dull pain. But no matter how long I waited, death did not come. Confused, I asked the system. It emitted a burst of static before slowly responding. [Host, are you sure you don't want to try again? Maybe if you put in a little more effort, you could succeed this time.]