The Mark Of Thanatos

"Darling, what's the matter," asked Madeleine, the early morning sun seeping into the bedroom and dancing over his clothes hanging on a chair.

"Nothing," said Seamus, turning on his side and wishing it were so.

"Please tell me," she said, her dark head falling against him.

"There's nothing anyone can do, he said solemnly. "It's back, that's all."

"What are you talking about? What's back?"

He sighed heavily, turned towards her and pointed to the ugly black and blue mark on his upper left arm.

And then he told her that which had haunted him since he was twenty-one years old. It was then, while studying for the priesthood, that the mysterious mark made its first appearance. He soon learned that it was no ordinary bruise. That was after it had grown darker during the course of that terrible day when his twelve-year-old brother, Brian died suddenly. The day after his death it completely disappeared.

"But surely that was a coincidence," said Madeleine. His shaking head told her no.

The mark, he told her, had returned when he was twenty-seven, this time preceding the death of his grandfather. The first thing that he noticed was that it occupied the very same spot on the same arm. Also, as before, it was circular and flecked with spots of black and blue and yellow. It faded away just like the last time, a few hours after the death occurred. Then there were three other times the mark appeared over the course of the years, each time in the same spot on the same arm and followed quickly by the death of a family member.