It was a lose-lose situation. “You’ve got two choices,” Troy hissed, “Either I die again … or you die.” His voice broke at the last word. “Pick your choice.”
I didn’t answer him, looking away and letting my thoughts wander. His voice sounded like one of those video game characters. The ones that say stuff like, “Choose your battle.” But I wasn’t fighting in one of those types of battles.
This was worse.
I knew that the last thing in the world Troy wanted to do was change me but I also knew that he didn’t want to leave me with Kahn. It was too difficult to figure out. He could either make it horrible for me or for himself. But he was asking me … not himself.
I shook my head inside of my deep concentration and Troy flinched. I knew the waiting for my answer was causing him even more pain but I couldn’t bear to bring myself to decide. He was seriously asking me about my death or his second one. And what am I supposed to say?
I thought about what my changing process would be like—long and painful. He could either take his immortal venom and somehow (I don’t know how) put it in me or take the venom of someone else … which would be Kahn.
Finally with my mind made up, I did the only thing left that my body could handle. I put my head into my hands and cried like a baby. I cried for almost thirty minutes straight and I knew (or should say hoped) Troy was fighting himself not to come and put his arms around me. He knew I would have liked that. He knew I would have wanted that.
And yet, no strong and gentle arms gathered me up as I wept. They were attached to a soulless body that didn’t more for those thirty minutes. And when I was finally done—Troy collected me in his arms.
I started crying all over again.
But when the last of my tears were gone, the most strangest and sweetest thing happened. Troy looked me in the eyes and said, "I'll do it." Just as I was about to give myself over. So what now?