"Long time no see, Luke."
I stare in awe as my dead wife stands in front of me, my mind reeling as it tries to reconcile the impossible. The fog swirls around us, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that only amplifies the surreal nature of this moment. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat a thunderous reminder that I'm alive, even as I gaze upon the face of someone who should be long gone.
"I... I buried you, Skye," I stammer. The words feel hollow, inadequate in the face of this miracle or madness before me.
Memories flood my mind, vivid and painful. I can still feel the cold touch of her skin, see the unnatural stillness of her chest. My throat tightens as I remember the desperate hope that clung to me, defying all reason.
"At your wake, I didn't leave your side," I continue, my voice gaining strength as the words tumble out. "I checked your pulse every five minutes, praying for a miracle that never came."
"You were dead," I insist, even as my eyes drink in every detail of her very alive face. "Your mother had to separate me from your corpse. I nearly jumped in as they poured the dirt on your casket."
The memory of that moment hits me like a physical blow. The sound of earth hitting wood, the finality of it, the way my legs had given out as I lunged forward, only to be caught and held back by Sonia. The anguish, the despair, the feeling that a part of me was being buried along with her.
I shake my head, my voice cracking as I meet her gaze. "You simply cannot be my actual late wife."
Skye's expression softens, a mix of sadness and understanding flickering across her features. She reaches out, her hand cupping my face with a gentleness that's achingly familiar. Her touch is warm, alive, sending a jolt through my system that makes my knees weak.
Skye's emerald eye glistens with unshed tears as she speaks, her voice soft and filled with a mixture of wonder and sorrow. "Life is... complicated, Luke," she says, her words hanging in the swirling mist between us. "When I passed away from cancer, I simply woke up in the body of a different Skye. I found myself floating in an endless abyss, and then I ended up here."
"Powers beyond my comprehension flowed through me," Skye continues, her eye taking on a faraway look. "I could bend reality itself, reshape entire worlds with a thought. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once."
I stare at her, my mind struggling to process the enormity of what she's saying. "What... what do you mean?" I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
A smile spreads across Skye's face, equal parts joy and madness. The scars around her empty eye socket crinkle, giving her expression an unsettling asymmetry. "Oh, Luke," she says, her voice taking on a sing-song quality that sends a shiver down my spine. "We can talk about the specifics whenever we want."
Before I can react, Skye lunges forward, capturing my lips in a possessive kiss. Her mouth is hot against mine, hungry and demanding. For a moment, I feel myself starting to lean in, muscle memory and long-buried emotions threatening to overwhelm my better judgment.
The fog swirls around us, creating a cocoon of mist that seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy. I can feel the raw power emanating from Skye, a tangible force that makes the air crackle with potential.
But then, like a splash of cold water, I remember. I remember Super Star, my wife, my anchor in this storm of impossibility. I remember her smile, her touch, the way she looks at me like I'm the center of her universe.
I pull back abruptly, breaking the kiss. My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath, my emotions a tangled mess of confusion, desire, and guilt.
"I... I can't," I gasp, taking a step back. The fog parts around me, cool tendrils brushing against my flushed skin. "Skye, I'm married. To Super Star."
Skye's expression shifts, a shadow passing over her features. With lightning-fast reflexes, she reaches out and boops my nose. The gesture is playful, almost childlike, but there's an undercurrent of menace that makes my blood run cold.
"You married me first, honey," she says, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. The words hang in the air between us, heavy with implication.
I shake my head, taking another step back. "But you died," I insist, my voice cracking with emotion. "I mourned you, Skye. I was broken."
Memories flood my mind, vivid and painful. Endless nights spent staring at the ceiling, the bed too large and too empty without her. Days that blurred together in a haze of grief and numbness. The way colors seemed to leach out of the world, leaving everything dull and lifeless in her absence.
Skye's eye narrows, the emerald depths swirling with a mixture of possessiveness and barely contained fury. "But you never got over me," she says, her words sharp and precise. She takes a step forward, closing the distance between us once more.
"Super Star is a cheap imitation of me at best," Skye continues, her voice dripping with disdain. "A pale shadow trying desperately to fill the void I left behind."
I shove my hands against Skye's shoulders, trying to push her away, but it's like trying to move a mountain. She doesn't budge an inch, her smile never faltering.
"Stop it!" I cry out, my voice echoing in the swirling mist. "You don't understand, she healed me, Skye! I was completely shattered for five years after you died. I was a hollow shell of myself until I met her!"
Skye's smile twitches at the corners, but she remains immovable before me, her single emerald eye burning with possessive intensity.
"And you know what?" I continue, my voice rising with desperate conviction. "Not once, not a single time, did she ever make me help her torture and murder someone just because they flirted with me at a bar!"
The fog around us darkens, tendrils coiling like angry snakes as Skye's expression hardens.
"She never made me afraid just to keep me in line," I gasp, tears welling in my eyes. "She never hurt me to prove a point!"
I'm trembling now, memories flooding back, horrible, blood-soaked memories I'd buried deep. The basement in our old house. The sounds. The pleading.
"Luke," Skye says, her voice dangerously soft. "Those people deserved what happened to them. They were trying to take you from me."
"They were just being friendly!" I shout, my voice cracking with the weight of years of suppressed trauma.
I look at her scarred face, seeing both the woman I once loved and the monster she truly is. My chest aches with conflicting emotions.
"You're..." I struggle to find the words, "You're like a darker version of her. Or maybe she's a kinder version of you." I swallow hard. "And I do love you, Skye. God help me. I still do. But I don't know if I can give her up for you. I don't know if I want to."
The mist around us pulses with crimson light, matching the fury building in Skye's expression. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, the air crackling with power.
"Luke," Skye hisses, her voice dangerously low, "Super Star killed you twice."
"What? No, it was just once. The other time was her original Luke, not me."
Skye's emerald eye narrows, the scar tissue around her empty socket tightening. "You don't understand what you're talking about," she says, stepping closer. "Only I can protect you, Luke. Only I truly know how."
The mist swirls more violently around us, reflecting her growing agitation. I back away, stumbling slightly as my heel catches on nothing.
"I WANT TO BE WITH SUPER STAR," I yell back.
She stares at me, her expression shifting to one of pure disgust. The look is so familiar it makes my stomach clench.
"You know what, Luke?" she says, her voice suddenly calm in a way that chills me to the bone. "There are plenty of wonderful powers in this world. I'll just have to find someone who can help me make you forget about her."
Ice floods my veins. I know exactly what she means, she's going to erase Super Star from my mind, from my heart. Terror grips me.
"Just let me go, Skye," I plead, my voice breaking. "You don't have to do this. We had our chance."
Her expression softens suddenly, the rage melting away. She reaches out, her fingers gently stroking my hair. The touch is achingly familiar, loving in a way that makes my heart throb with nostalgia and confusion.
"Shh," she whispers, her fingers tracing patterns against my scalp.
Something strange happens. The world blurs around the edges. My thoughts become fuzzy, disconnected. My eyelids grow impossibly heavy. I try to fight it, but it's like swimming against a riptide.
"Sk.. Skye," I mumble, but my tongue feels thick in my mouth.
The last thing I see is her smile, tender yet triumphant before darkness claims me.