Nadia had never died before. She'd come close to doing so dozens of times in the past, but she'd never truly died. Her heart hadn't stopped beating, her brain hadn't stopped sending messages to the rest of her body. Those close-calls in the past were just a sort of exploration with her rather large masochistic side. That's what it had to have been, because you don't ask a man to choke you to death then offer to fuck him once he gives you your breath back just for kicks and giggles.

What the witch was feeling now, however, was different than all of those near-misses from before. She ached all over and felt oddly empty. Something important was missing from her as she moved through the darkness. Was it her soul? That didn't make any sense to her, though. She thought harder.

There was a constant blackness, she felt empty, and there was pain. A dull ache that wasn't going away no matter how she moved through the void she'd been thrust into.

She thought. What had happened before she got to the void?

The memory wouldn't come to her. Nothing would come to her, besides an uneasy feeling about the missing part of her.

Maybe this was her soul, she'd decided. This was really her, her mind and soul, drifting through the void, stripped of a body. That made some sense, though it didn't quite explain the pain she was feeling. Nadia didn't like the idea that she was to believe her soul had pain receptors. That contradicted everything she'd learned in life.

In life? So she really was dead? Moris was going to be rather put off by this, she decided as she moved through the darkness. Setheus and Zillah would be, too. They'd have to tell the children what happened. Hopefully someone would know, Nadia decided. She didn't. Maharet would understand the concept of death, if that's what this was. She was old enough. Kendrew would, too, but even though he was only 3 years younger than Maharet, he would recover better, perhaps. Ameera was already an adult, even though she was only six. Zillah had better be gentle when he told her. And then there was the matter of the baby--

....the baby.

Nadia remembered exactly what had happened, and as a flood of images clashed in her mind, she was pulled back to the present. Oh, Goddess, how she ached, how her body was so in pain. She wanted death again, she decided. Nothing had been this horrible before. Shivan had only caused her mild discomfort, a small bout of rug burn, if you will.

"Mor...," she tried. No, that hurt and was exhausting. Moris had been angry with her prior to this anyway, she remembered. Did he know? Was Kendrew still alright? "....Zill...ah?" She should probably try to open her eyes, but, as selfish as it was, she didn't want to.

The witch started to cry and sought out her oblivion again. If ever there was a time for someone to die, let this be it.

It's a curious feeling, having a hellhound back in my life. Sure, it's something that was rather spontaneous and will probably have rather harsh repercussions later, but I'm thinking it's worth it. After a slight argument, and my sub-sequential migration to the Townhouse, it's nice to have someone to talk to. Zillah had, naturally, shown up unexpectedly. He'd practically pounded the door in by the time I was able to waddle my way from the library to the door; for some reason he didn't have his keys on him.

After talking about this and that, much of which was really just him assuring me that what had happened between Moris and myself was a natural reaction and that things would be perfectly fine. I nodded, though I didn't quite agree with him. I still don't, I think. And I didn't keep this quiet for long, either. I showed Z all of the things I'd been studying, showed him the signs I found.

Not to sound cliche, but "something wicked this way comes."

Because of this he offered to stay the night. It took quite a bit of persuading on his part, I'll admit. I'm still not entirely comfortable with him staying, only because of the argument it may bring him in the future. I don't want to be the cause for someone else's relationship issues; I've had enough of my own to know that outside forces aren't needed encouragement. But he's stayed, a loyal hound, protecting me from my own imagination, because at this point, that's the most threatening thing to me.

Zillah finally stopped by the Townhouse, just as Maharet said he was going to. He looks rather well, then again, he also looks like shit. I suppose it has to do with his current situation. I want to help him. I mean, why wouldn't I? Sure, after he helped Moris and I he just.... left me, but still. I look past that because I understand why he did it. I probably would have, too. I also don't think twice about it because of all the other memories we have.

Not those sorts of memories. Zillah and I were never intimate, though I can understand why people would assume as such. "The Mistress and her Hellhound" the would say as we passed, so what else could they think? No, never intimate. He would hold me while I cried against his tee or he would allow me to stroke his hair, his head on my lap. Zillah protected me from so much, including myself at times. For some reason which I cannot understand, he almost always knew what was best for me, even if he didn't like it. In a way, I owe the man.

So when he asks for my assistance, in his own way of asking, of course, I can't say 'no.' I may be a Coven witch, but I'm not that much of a bitch. I'll do as much as I can, all depending on what my current 'situation' allows. I'll help him, yes, but not if what's needed runs the risk harming my unborn child's well-being. This pregnancy is a scientific mystery and I'm sure even Zillah would admit that. We -- I --... Moris and I can't risk losing our child. Something in my gut is telling me we wouldn't be able to duplicate what happened.

Little bit of this and that. Never what you'd expect.