Hi! The inspiration for this chapter was given to me by Guest. It's purpose is to mainly explain why no one on the Isle has died, especially living amongst so many villains. Enjoy!

Warning: This chapter is a bit morbid! I wouldn't recommend reading if that triggers you.

Not Quite Dead

"I asked you to do one simple thing!" Maleficent had her daughter by the throat. She then threw her to the ground, and started kicking her mercilessly. "Brat!" she screeched. Through the assault, Mal squeezed her eyes shut tightly. The only thing she felt was worse than being beaten by your own mother, was seeing the smug look on her face as she did it. A crunch forced out a yelp from the teen, signalling a broken rib. All because she had- what had she done? Her head was getting fuzzy.

Her mother pounded on her, yelling and screaming obscenities at her. They didn't register in her mind, though. She was too busy counting to the rhythm of the punches. One, two, three, four, five… It took her mind off of the pain she was feeling with every blow.

"Shit!" Someone was tapping her cheek, pleading with her to wake up. "Mal, come on!"

Her eyes finally opened a crack, and she hissed at the light streaming in from the window. "Jay?"

"Yeah! It's me; I'm here." He brushed some hair out of her face. "We should get you to your bed. Can you walk?"

She didn't even have to try. She knew it was a lost cause. "No," she whispered hoarsely.

He nodded, "Sorry." He then gracefully scooped her up, wincing at her whimper of pain. He carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom, gently placing her on the old purple mattress. "Better?"

She shrugged. It certainly beat the floor.

"What hurts?"

She did a mental check, wiggling a few of her limbs to test them out. "My left leg, my ribs, my shoulder, my head, my wrist," she rattled off the list.

"Shit, Mal." He cursed for the second time since finding her. Well, that she had been conscious for. "You're lucky you're not dead."

"Thank the Isle and the stupid barrier," she said through gritted teeth.

When The Isle of The Lost was created, the heroes worried that the villains sent there would kill each other. Then, the Isle would basically be a death sentence. Their nobility wouldn't have it, and they included in the barrier spell a sort of protection spell. All of the inhabitants would be protected from death, with the exception of old age. That way, it wouldn't be a huge purge-type place. What they hadn't anticipated in this plan, was that they would use it to beat each other long past where one of them would have died.

"Blessing and a curse," he agreed. She groaned, mostly feeling the curse part at the moment. He kissed her forehead, getting up. "I'll go get Carlos and Evie. We'll be back in a few minutes."

She nodded as much as her body would allow, and stared up at the ceiling. She willed down a wave of nausea, because she hadn't eaten much and losing it would be a waste. There wasn't much to do in the time he was gone, so she hummed a little song to herself. Sometimes, if the Auradonians were having a celebration, they would play their music loudly. If the wind was facing just the right way, the faint notes would float across the water and onto their miserable island.

This one she had heard one night when her and Evie were taking a late stroll, and the music had stopped them in their tracks, They sat on a roof and listened until the waking hours of dawn, when it stopped. She committed as many songs as she could to memory, because these melodies were much nicer than the raunchy, out-of-tune songs chanted by the old guy in the pub.

Crawling through her window ten minutes later were her friends, Evie holding various bandages while Carlos had brought some food.

"Hey, girlie," Evie said sympathetically.

"Hey," she whispered back, because anything louder would've made her head spin.

"Thank the barrier," Carlos whispered softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Thank the barrier," she repeated, not feeling it. It was something the people on the isle said when they would've feared death, but the barrier protected them. Sometimes, she wondered what it would be like to die. What it would be like to fling yourself from the highest tower and that would be the end of it.

But such thoughts were foolish. Had she acted upon these fantasies, she would've only ended up how she is now, broken and in pain and having to wait until her body healed itself.

One lonely man on the isle had tried to decapitate himself, but before he could do more than a tiny incision, his neck turned to stone until he busted the knife. Another woman had attempted to hang herself, but she remained there, hanging, for days. Her face was purple and she was wheezing the whole time. Her body just wouldn't die. Auradon Guards had to come get her down, because the others only snickered as they passed her.

"Time to wait it out, Mal." Jay said softly, brushing some hair out of her face and pulling the blankets over her. "You should go to sleep; it'll speed things along."

Sorry for the short update! My attention has mostly been on my other story, which is a bit of a higher priority than this. Are people still interested in this?