Disclaimer: I don't own Silver Kiss.

The wind carried him away, and only one mortal would remember him.

He would be remembered in her thoughts, her heart, and soul.

When she graduated, she thought of how proud he would be.

When she went on her first date, she hoped he wouldn't be mad at her for trying to move on.

When she experienced heartbreak, she imagined his cool caresses to comfort her.

And finally when she lay dying, she wondered if she would see him again.

His name was the last thing in her mind as her heart beat its last on her hospital bed.

Zoe died as she had lived.


She hoped that whatever came next would be different, that she could finally experience that elusive happiness.

No such luck.

Instead her spirit found itself in a maze, the hedgerows towering over her like stern taskmasters. Sure age had left her like an old skin, and she no longer felt pain, but she was still alone.

There was only one way for her to go.

Her steps through the corridors were timid, but grew progressively quicker.

For weren't there prizes in mazes?

So many dead ends and no clue as to where to go.

Tear tracks lined her face, and in desperation she cried out for him, to hear only an answering echo.

She started to run, the maze twisting around her, desperation giving her strength.

The strength to stand.

The strength to run.

The strength to find him.

The center of the maze was covered in crystal, and in the middle lay a sleeping figure.

She approached him slowly, terrified he would disappear.

Her hand shook as she reached out to brush his cheek, his skin still cool to the touch. His inhuman beauty was unmarred by death, but his deep eyes were closed to her.

She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss upon his lips, before proceeding to shower his face in warmth.

Over and over she begged and pleaded for him to wake, her voice growing hoarse before she sensed change.

She was vanishing.

She grabbed hold of Simon, hoping to ground herself to him, but he was fading too.

He was being taken from her again.

Zoe screamed out her pain and longing as she disappeared from the center of the maze.

At 3am in Princeton General hospital a small girl was born. Her cries were long and loud, the nurses cooed and spoke of healthy lungs.

On the other side of the Atlantic, a boy was also born. He was still and quiet, so quiet he was thought dead.

Death is a maze.

But so is life.

Continue or not?

Like or hate?