Death are they, they are death!

You always remember your first time. Your first bike, your first kiss, your first lover, your first car, your first death. I think they stick out in your memory as they set the bar, the next ones can only get better, right? I mean, when I was sixteen, I had a black BMX, complete with stunt pegs on the wheels, but questionable brakes. After a few bumps, trees hit and a broken arm, I upgraded and got one with disc brakes. That reduced the injuries somewhat.

My first kiss was with Mary Feldham, a short mousey looking girl who wouldn’t say boo to a goose. There was no romantic build up to this, or teenage longing. I had no interest in Mary. We were playing truth or dare in a local park. These games are always more dare than truth, and the dare was always “kiss” at that age, or knock and run on houses on the estate, but at that age, you played for the kissing. Our turn was awkward, we didn’t know what we were doing. She turned her head at first and, with my eyes closed, I ended up trying to make out with her ear. Once all the jeering and laughing were done, I was made to try again, and we kissed. That resulted in us meeting up before school most mornings and having a kiss, each one getting a little bit better. We were practice for each other, nothing more. We didn’t even talk. Just kiss and run.

Death is no different. I was only twenty one, and totally unaware of what would befall me that fateful evening. The scar on my chest is a constant reminder. I had been walking home through the local park with my good friend, Max. We had to walk a path in the park running alongside a train track. A steep drop from the path to the track was blocked by a criss-cross wired fence. The other side of the path was a high-rise mud bank.

“Shit, it’s almost midnight,” Max said.

“So?”

“The lights, they go off at midnight, some council money saving thing.”

I looked ahead and I couldn’t see the end of the path yet, but I could see the silhouettes of a group ahead.

“Come on, lets speed it up. Get past that lot before they go off,” Max said.

As we approached the group, I could see that there were five of them, all with hoodies. One of them stepped into our path, spitting on the ground in front of us.

“Where’s you going boys?” he said.

“Just home,” Max said.

The hoodie screwed his lips up and looked us up and down, like he was assessing us.

“Are you two gay boys?” he turned back to the others, “I thinks they wanna get home and do the business. Aint that right, gay boys?”.

We tried to walk past and ignore him, but he pushed me back, and stepped back himself. He put on a face like we were being rude, “Come on, I am only aksing the question?”.

The emphasis on the ‘k’ and getting that word wrong always infuriated me. When did it become cool to be illiterate?

“Look, we don’t want any trouble, we just want to get home,” I said.

The hoodie bent forward laughing, his friends joining in. I tried to walk past again, and once more, the hoodie placed his hand on me and pushed me back. This time I pushed his hand away. That was probably a mistake, as his friends all now stood and had the hoodies back.

“You may not want trouble, but you found it,” he said. As quick as a flash, he unleashed a punch so hard that I fell to the ground and the world seemed to be spinning. The others then set upon me and Max, kicking and punching us while we lay on the ground. After a while, the pain stopped. The kicks became dull thuds, I was numb to them. That was when I saw them.

They were not what I had expected. There was no bright tunnel of light, or a cloaked figure with a scythe. It was like looking at the world I knew, and where I just was, but no one else was in it except me, and them. I felt sick, from the realisation of what was happening, I was dying, and they were death, but there was no fear. They put me at ease. I was standing now, looking into their eyes as they approached me. Their eyes seemed confused. They were not expecting me yet. They told me this but had not spoken. I could not avert my gaze, for they were truly beautiful. Eventually, they smiled, and placed a hand on my shoulder. They shook their head and kissed my cheek. They told me my purpose. Then there was pain.

My eyes opened as the hoodie leaned over me, a knife in his hand. He was going to kill me, but I had already faced death, and they had sent me back. So, I knew I would not die here. I fought through the pain and grabbed the hoodies arm just as he plunged. The knife cut into my chest, and he slashed it across me as we struggled. I rolled toward the bank down to the train tracks. The momentum pulled the hoodie down with me. We tumbled and rolled, crashing into the fence. The lights then went out. The hoodies knife lay on the ground next to us, it glinted in the now moonlit darkness. I grinned, and grabbed the knife, keeping my weight upon him, pinning him to the fence. He had not seen me pick it up.

“Thank you,” I said to him.

“Huh, get off me bruv.”

“You have opened my eyes, and death has given me a second chance. They sent me back to this, back to you. Now I know my purpose.”

The hoodie tried to wriggle free, but it was too late for him. Like a fly in a spiders web, his fate was now sealed.

“Tell me, how many lives have you taken with this knife?” I placed the tip of the knife against the side of his chest.

“No, please,” he begged.

“Tell me.” Even to me, it felt like a thousand voices filled the air screaming those words. The hoodie began to cry.

“I don’t know,” he said. I looked back up the path and saw Max, lifeless. The others had run away.

“Well, they will know. I will keep this knife; this will be my weapon. Oh, don’t worry, they are coming for you now,” I said.

“Who?” he said.

“Death.”

I pushed the knife into the side of his chest, surprised by the ease by which it slid in. Not as surprised as the hoodie. I watched his eyes go wide, fear filling his face.

As his life slipped away, the line between reality and death blurred for me again. Once more I found myself in between worlds, with death. They looked upon me with a smile and nodded in acclamation. They turned their attention to the hoodie. He saw them differently. He held up his hands, turning away from them. I watched as the ground around him began to glow. The hoodie noticed too and stood up. He tried to run from the glow, but it followed him wherever he stood. Hands began to rise up from the ground grabbing hold of his legs. He screamed and tried to pull the hands off. He fell forward as he was dragged down into the glowing red ground, frantically clawing at the surface, but making no purchase. Then he was gone.

The world began to take its natural form once more. As death faded away, I saw them with Max. They were holding his hand and walking away.

They gave me my purpose that night, and my kills have been much cleaner since. They guide me as to who is destined for the underworld, I do not decide. I merely carry out their bidding. People that have done much harm and who’s souls weigh too much to remain in the middle realm; where you and I live, they are the ones that must move on. To keep the balance. Although, that balance has been tipping a lot lately, as people turn away from their faith, but that is another story.

I no longer fear death, I look forward to it. When my time comes, I will embrace the final walk, holding their hand.