“I can’t say I recommend this, but it’s your only hope. But you might die anyway if you take it. Even if you live, you will never be the same again.”

Having given her warning, the hunchbacked old alchemist hobbled away, the cane tapping on the stone floor, a pouch full of gold coins. The girl she’d given the potion to sat numbly in the alley, back against the wall behind a trash bin. Flies buzzed around her, even landing on her, but she didn’t even brush them away. The roots of her hair had already turned white, slowly crawling down each strand of her hair until it left them gray.

The girl sat with her head buried between her knees and arms, but small flakes of white speckled the dark skin of her arms and legs. The flesh beneath the white flecks could feel nothing, the sense of touch totally dead.

Even though she’d ran so far, that man still cursed her to die a slow death. All because someone of her village stole from him. The cloaked man was death itself.

The adults died first, her parents amongst them, clutching their throats as the white cancer spread through their body and sealed their doom. Their bodies turned to dust, like ashes scattering in the wind. The next to go were the animals that wandered the village streets. Animals, feral or docile, were touched by death and faded to nothing. All her friends, brothers, sisters. Everyone.

Except her.

She lifted her head and held up the priceless red liquid bottled in a clear glass vial, bought with stolen coin. She saw her own reflection; dirty, unclean, corrupted, selfish, hated, and most of all, the image of death. Dare she live while others died? Live by committing the very same crime that condemned her?

She touched her left eye, dragging her nails across a patch of white. But she felt nothing. Apart from a blink, she did not even react. Couldn’t. Half of her world was already gone. Except for the nothingness that came from her left eye’s blindness was pure white instead of black, never giving her a moment of peace in sleep as light from the whiteness pierced her very being. She closed her other eye. Light and dark struggled against each other, except this time, light brought death and dark brought hope.

She uncorked the vial, throwing away the stopper and downed all of the contents. She blinked, not sure what she was expecting, but it was certainly not nothing. It was tasteless and without temperature as it flowed down her throat. As the alchemist told her, she crawled away from the flies and curled up on the floor.

From her stomach came warmth and she left it spread through her body and limbs.

“For what do you steal?”

“My life…”

“Do you treasure your life?”

“...No.”

“Then for what reason do you hide from death so?”

She was speechless and the voice stopped, leaving her.

A giant field of flowers surrounded her, infinitely reaching into the distance. But, although she called them flowers, the strange shapes revealed nothing about themselves. A black void stared up at her between the gaps of the crystals, enticing her to its empty embrace, but she kept still.

Her bare foot stepped upon a petal, a strange fragment, and it bent slightly. As she lifted her foot, the stalk sprung up, sending millions of those strange rainbow shapes that curved and bloomed flying away like a field of butterflies taking flight, or the seeds of a dandelion flower riding the wind.

A wave of those small crystals flew past her behind, disturbed by something. When the petal storm disappeared, she turned. The cloaked man stood behind her, the hood obscuring his eyes and the billowing fabric that covered him hiding his form. She laughed.

She danced forward lightly and flicked the man’s hood back. Where his eyes should have been was a black fog. He did not exist here, only she did. She had never seen his eyes, and death did not need eyes. The man before her had no need for eyes.

He stood in front of her, silent. The harsh voice screaming a guttural language that cursed them all was not here. She could not remember it.

Then one by one, everyone came back.

Each of them stood alit a rainbow bloom, the so-fragile crystals holding their weight effortlessly. She danced to each of them, and each of them were just how she remembered them, white like a statue of chalk, right before the wind blew them to ashes and dust.

What was she doing here, she wondered.

She turned away from the boy she liked, sandy brown hair turned white like the rest of his featured. He grabbed her.

“Let me go,” she said.

The boy pulled her in close; so close; so close until their noses and forehead almost touched. His empty eyes looked into hers like a statue animated in a poor imitation of life. Although he breathed, none of the warm breath that tickled her ears in life remained. He shook his head. “Welcome to the world of Fractals, origin of everything.”

Welcome to the world of Fractals, origin of everything.

“For what do you steal?”

Life.

“Do you treasure your life?”

No.

“Then for what reason do you hide from death so?”

Because I am afraid.

The face of her love cracked. A touch from her splintered him from the crack outwards until he drifted away a cloud of rainbow fractals, the color a stark contrast to the white death he succumbed from before. Around her, all the people, her family and friends faded as well until only the cloaked man remained.

He stepped forward and the fractals took flight, melding into each other to form the sky, the earth, the houses, the animals, the people. The man’s limbs creaked into motion and obscured his face once more with his hood, casting his smoky face into shadows.

The familiar terror struck her heart. She turned and ran, dodging the hand that grabbed her. She was young and fit, while that man was burdened with a thick flowing cloak. Running, faster and faster, dodging in the forest, bribing and seeking for a way to cleanse the white from her skin.

She blinked and she was back. The man’s hand filled her entire world, right eye covered by the brown gloved hands. The man tightened his grip and she could not feel his hand anymore, nor the pressure and the coarseness of his hand. She closed her eyes and did not scream.

Her love gripped her tightly, hugging her close as he drew each breath laboriously. She ran her fingers through his rapidly whitening hair until at last his hair gave way to her touch, crumbling to dust. Her arm sank into her body and came away coated with a layer of ash. She held in an urge to vomit and stood off, remains of her love cringing to her clothes.

The girl opened her eyes, heartbeat fluttering, prepared for the next harrowing death. But none were left.

She laid on her back on top of the stiff, but springy stalks of the fractal flowers. The iridescent crystal blooms above her were huge, each hanging like giant stalactites without roots. She blinked. Her left eye was back, and her dark skin was unblemished. She lifted her hand, reaching for the heavens and the fractals swayed in response.

“For what do you steal?”

“Do you treasure your life?”

…

“Do you fear death?”

In replay, she stood up and strode to the edge of the fractal petal. A sudden swarm of tiny crystals flew up, forming a blazing column of glowing colors. She held her arms out to the side and allowed herself to tip forward, forward, forward into the vast unlimited void beneath.