She Whispered With Her Last Breath

She had been waiting for this moment for years. The night of the full moon, when the power of the goddess was at its peak. She had prepared everything: the candles, the incense, the herbs, the blood. She had carved the symbols on the walls of the cave, the sacred place where she had spent countless hours in prayer and meditation. She had sacrificed everything for this: her family, her friends, her lover. She had no regrets. She only had one desire: to see her face.

She knelt on the cold stone floor, holding a dagger in her hand. She whispered the words of the ancient spell, feeling the energy coursing through her veins. She felt a connection with the goddess, a bond that transcended time and space. She felt her presence, her love, her approval. She smiled and raised the dagger to her chest.

She plunged it into her heart, feeling no pain, only joy. She gasped and fell to the ground, blood spilling from her wound.

She whispered her name with her last breath: “Artemis.”