His Healing, Her Vengeful Lie

The numb cold started in my fingertips, creeping inward.

I watched Chloe, my wife, her face a mask of impatient fury in the dim tent light.

Outside, a blizzard howled, the soundtrack to my dying.

My miraculous blood, the blood that could heal, drained from my arm, a crimson offering for a dead man.

"More," Chloe demanded, her voice sharp. "It' s not enough. You have to bring him back."

Her childhood sweetheart, Jake Miller, lay frozen nearby, a corpse.

"Chloe, it doesn' t work like this," I rasped, my vision blurring. "I can heal injuries. I can' t raise the dead."