What's it like to live? And not be able to die?

Pounding, throbbing, pain, it coursed through every inch of muscle, every nerve on fire. The poison was eating away, slowly.

What's it like to feel pain? And not be able to die?

Sweat began to bead, the poison now affecting his eye sight as he struggled to hold himself together. Delusional, that's what he was now, screaming out to creatures that didn't exist but in his mind.

What's it like to sleep? And wake up to a nightmare?

Past events sprung at him, the death of loved ones and those who had been innocent. Facts were being twisted in his mind to make him out as the murderer. Why wouldn’t it stop? He collapsed and coughed up blood, his body was dieing, and yet his soul was tied to the carcass.

Tortured by living, dreaming of death. Cursed by the devil, poor Lucifer's pet. Scream as you like, no one will hear. Black cat you're forgotten, because nobody cares.

He lay still on his back, unseeing eyes staring into nothing. His body shaking slightly in pain, or perhaps despair. His fire eyes wished to fade but held their glimmer all the same. One whose heart has been cursed, like his was, will never see heaven or hell again.

What's it like to live? And not be able to die? A poor black cat, tears in his eyes. Death in his body, and one wish in his heart. "Somebody kill me, before the pain starts..."