As you lay there dying you notice that three spirits are standing over you. They’re having a conversation while they watch you die.

“You cut it wrong.”

“No, you measured it too short.”

“Shut up both of you, he’s coming around.”

Parker couldn’t believe it. They were stunning. The ground was warm, everything around him was warm and soft, pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Oh god, his heart. Parker reached for his chest, feeling the sharp steel jutting between his ribs.

“You should just cut it now. Don’t leave him hanging on a thread.”

“Never. Clotho spin him some more.”

“It goes against Father’s wishes.”

“He can sit on his throne in Olympus, but it is us who descends to the mortal realm. Not him.”

“Hello?” Parker said. The three women looked at him. Each turned to the others, before finally standing before him. At a silent nod, they began.

“I am Clotho, Parker, son of Henry. I spun the thread that gave you life.”

“I am Lachesis, second daughter of Zeus. It is I who measures your span.”

The final woman moved closer. She was older than the others, though obviously still from the same parents.

“I am Atropos my dear sweet child. Your thread was spun, your life was measured and it is I who must now make the final cut.”

“Please, no,” Parker said.

Lachesis wrapped a thin ribbon about his palm, closing his fingers about it until he could feel every moment, every day of his life flowing through the fabric. This was him.

“But why?”

Clotho, the youngest, held up the beginning of his ribbon.

“Your life has fascinated us mortal. So much you have accomplished that your thread has frayed and splintered.” He looked at the start of the ribbon, rich in colour and strong in thread. The piece his hand clutched was thin, bleached to a pale yellow. “Know that from your silk, a hundred new lines have been spun. Your name will live on.”

Parker touched the ribbon against the metal of his chest, feeling it burn as memories flooded back as if they were a lifetime ago, but must have happened only moments before. The helicopter. Setting down, pulling Baker squad to safety. The RPG round, striking the rotors, screaming from metal and men as they crashed into the desert.

“You have outlasted the marks I made, many times, on your thread,” Lachesis said, showing him the deep cuts that stretched from where her younger sister held held the start to his own hand. “But now, it is time for you to join your ancestors.”

Atropos knelt before him, holding up his hand so that it rested against her chest. She blew, softly cutting the fibres until Parker could see the last thread remaining. The world was brighter now. Shining with a brilliance that hurt his eyes.

“Your child has a wonderful life ahead of them,” she said.

Parker smiled and watched his life end.


Prompt originally posted by GrittyGent on reddit and received 5 upvotes.

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