Death's Gift

(contains mentions of suicide and murder)

 My day started out normal enough. My town is small, boring, and lacking in entertainment. Most of its inhabitants even more so, but it was a fair way to live life. No one starved and we survived, and in some towns you couldn’t even have that. But then one day, I saw a new house among the few we had. It was tall and the wood was black, looking almost rotten. The grass was withered and no flowers grew on the lawn. You could hear the house creak and groan as if it were about to collapse, and take our small village down with it. I took one glance at this monstrosity that had shown up in one night and quickened my pace until I reached the woods. While the woods made some people uneasy, it made me calmer. I continued to think about the weird house. How had it appeared in a single night without anyone noticing? It didn't make sense. While thinking about who might live in such a house I began to scavenge for mushrooms for supper.

 But then I heard footsteps approaching. They were quiet, but the ground seemed to shake slightly with each footfall.

 I turned around and saw what I assumed to be a man.

 They were cloaked in dark, sleek fabric, but lined in silk that was blindingly white in contrast. Their hood covered their face and long, white silk gloves covered their hands. After a second more I noticed their cloak trailed far behind them, into the darkness of the woods.

 My heartbeat sped up and I felt a primal instinct to run from this strange person but stood my ground.

 “Who are you?” I asked, my voice strong and not betraying my nervousness.

 They did not answer.

 “What do you want?” I amended.

 “To give a gift.” They replied. Their voice resonated with the forest, and it echoed over itself multiple times creating a buzz that shook me to my bones.

 I was wary of them and had no interest in their gift. But I decided to humor them. “What gift do you have to offer?”

“I could make you beautiful, so pretty every soul you meet would fall instantly in love with you. You could charm the coldest of hearts with a smile and mend a broken heart with just a glance. Your grace could match a fawn’s and your beauty would be rivaled by no other.”

 As they spoke, I felt inside of me that their words were true. Somehow, I believed they could do as they said. But after thinking about it, I found I didn’t want their gift.

 “But why would I want perfection in looks? What use would that be to me in this cold village where survival demands hard work?”

 They seemed surprised, taken back with how quickly I rejected them. But still they pressed their gift.

 “Everyone would be wrapped around your finger. Anything you ask they would do.” They said.

 “And yet still I would be trapped, would I not be?” I countered.

 “How so?”

 “I have heard a tale of another with the gift you offered to me. Do you wish to hear her story?”

 They nodded and motioned for me to continue.

 “Ah, but first let’s sit down. True stories are told in comfort, and I would rather not stand.”

 They sat down, and still didn’t expose a sliver of flesh. Their cloak didn’t get dirty, and stayed perfectly black and white in color. I began my story, one I had heard from an old friend on a day much like this one, in the dark of the woods where silence was welcomed but rarely had.

 “Freya was as beautiful as a person could be. She had eyes the color of amber, alike to the resin in how it drew you in and you got trapped inside its embrace forever. Her dark skin shone like moonlight, her smile perfect and would mend your heart only for it to break again when she looked away. Her long dark hair curled and was as fine as any silk. She was loved by all who saw her, and when she went out she covered herself in large coats and fabrics to hide away her features.  

 Her father questioned this often.

 “How can you hide a face as pretty as yours?” He cried to her. “Do you not wish for a suitor to come and find you and bath you in riches and bring you to a place finer than you could ever dream?”

 But Freya wasn’t like other girls. She wished for a peaceful life in the forest, where she could find and grow her own food and make a place for herself without worrying about her enchanting beauty, and she told her father just this.

 “Father, I don’t want a husband. I would rather live my life alone in the forest.”

 But her father did not approve of her wishes that she had told him about too many times and he sent her to her room, and used the time to think of a plan to fulfill his own wishes. After thinking, and while she was still confined to her room, her father left and went to the streets. He called out to the men in the shops and on the road.

 “Inside my house is my daughter. She is the prettiest thing you will ever see. And she is looking for marriage. Any who would like to try for her hand come with me.”

 Many men were interested in his offer and followed him to Freya’s house. Once they got there, Freya’s father called for Freya to come out without her heavy, covering fabrics.

 “But father, won’t people see me?”

 “Don’t worry Freya! No one is here.”

 While the men sent her father curious looks, they stayed silent.

 Eventually Freya came out, with her beauty unmasked, and every man there instantly fell in love with her.

 “Have me for your husband! I would cook you dinners so lovely you shall be as enchanted with them as I am with you!” The first man cried, for he was a butcher.

“No! Have me! I would build you a mansion so fine you would be as enchanted with it as I am with you!” The second man cried, for he was a lumberjack.

 And so on and on each man cried out what they would give her, until they were just arguing with each other.

 But then one voice rang out that was louder and more powerful than the rest.

 “She should have me for her husband. I am a prince and would make her my queen and with all my riches I could give her what all of you have to offer and more.”

 Freya’s father was excited and immediately started making plans with the prince for the wedding without consulting Freya, who began to cry.

 Finally he noticed, and he asked her what was wrong.

 “But father, I don’t want to marry any man, even if they are a prince and could make me the wealthiest woman in the world.”

 The crowd quieted.

 Her father grew angry.

 “Freya, I am your father. You listen to me. If I say you are to be married then you shall marry. Don’t you see how you would only gain from this marriage? Now go to your room until the wedding.”

 Freya went to her room and cried, as she knew she had no choice but to do as her father bid.

 And so she got married and was sent to live in the castle. Multiple times she tried to run away but her beauty always got her caught and she was sent back to the castle with the prince. She could never escape, and after only a few years in the castle, she killed herself. Her life was nothing but sadness and suffering in the end, even if she had married a prince, and even if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.”

 The man in the cloak was silent after my tale for a second, and the quiet of the forest once again settled around us until he spoke once more.

 “But you do not have a father that would marry you off. And you don’t want to just live alone in the forest, do you?”

 “I don’t, but that is not the point. Has my story taught you nothing? Being beautiful does not make you happy, and that’s why your gift has no value. I do not want your gift when it will be nothing more than a curse in the end.”

 The man considered this.

 “Very well. Perhaps tomorrow I shall be able to give you a gift that would please you. At noon visit me in my house. I’m sure you can guess which one is mine.” He said, then got up and left through the path he had just come from.

 I finished gathering my mushrooms and went home.

 The next day I decided to visit the man, curious if he would have a gift for me again, and this time, something that would be of use to me.

 I went to the house of the withered lawn and rotting wood and made my way to the door and knocked. While waiting I looked down at the doormat at the door. It said ‘I invite all to enter, but I cannot promise you'll leave’.

 The door opened but there was no one behind it. I shrugged and went inside. I found myself in a room where the cloaked stranger was seated, in a different outfit. Today, their colors were reversed; instead of having a black cloak edged in white, they had a white coat edged in black. Instead of white gloves they had black ones.

 They motioned for me to sit down.

 “What gift do you have to offer today?” I asked, straight to the point.

 “I offer you the gift of unlimited and unrivaled strength. You could be as strong as an ox. You could carry anything as if it weighed nothing and walk and run faster than the wind. Your body would be so toughened you could not be hurt. Does this please you? Do you accept my gift?” They asked, seeming very curious and eager to please me but still confident my answer would be yes.

 I thought for a moment. “No.”

 They seemed shocked yet again. “No!? What is wrong with my offer this time?”

 “I know of a set of twins with the gift you offered me. Do you wish to know their story?”

 They nodded and offered me a chair to sit down on. I accepted and started my tale, which I had heard from a stranger who joined me on the road and wished to do something in the long hours that awaited us while traveling to the town I lived in today.

 “Tina and Emi were close sisters, born only a minute apart. While they were not the prettiest faces to look at, they were stronger than any man in their village, and when they grew older and left their home to travel on the road together, that is how they made their living. At inns they would challenge every person there to beat them in any competition of strength and the winner would get the other’s money. Every single time, Tina and Emi beat them with ease.

 They went to many places and made much money this way, but then, at one of the inns they stayed at, a man requested they fight each other instead.

 The man who requested this was a strange man. Before saying this he hadn’t spoken at all. His face was covered by a small hood, but otherwise he looked normal enough, with worn boots and hands scarred from years of hard work.

 Tina and Emi had often heard this request before, and they had come to an agreement they would take turns winning the fight based on whoever had been bet on more by the people to win.

 But something about the man's request was somehow different. It caused Tina and Emi to pause and actually wonder who was stronger. They went outside and were told to wrestle until one was locked in a position where they could be killed, and then they would be let go. Emi had been bet on more and so by their agreement, she should win. They began to fight, and soon it was clear that Tina was not going to let Emi win so easily this time.

 “Sister! What are you doing?” Emi hissed at Tina.

 “Aren’t you curious who of us is stronger? For once let’s actually fight and find out.” Tina hissed back.

 Of course, the people watching didn’t hear this but were still able to take note of how each sister suddenly seemed to be putting in much more effort.

 Soon the sisters began to grow angry at one another.

 “Sister,” Emi pleaded, “Let’s end this. Let me win and we can move on with our money. We don’t need to fight.”

 But something in Tina had changed when the man had spoken, and she seemed mad with determination to win.

 And so they fought and fought until the sun had set and everyone watching had eventually left, all but the man in the cloak who still stood watching from the shadows.

 He was the only one who witnessed the end of the fight.

 Tina had been growing more and more unstable as the fight progressed. She knew her strength couldn’t rival her sister’s and that with strength alone they would always be equal. So in one of the spare seconds where they both took a breather, Tina picked up a sharp rock and quickly dug it into her sister’s neck with all her strength.

 The fight stopped, and Emi’s breathing turned shallow. 

 “Why, sister?”

 Tina didn’t answer. But when Emi looked up for one final time, she saw that the Tina she knew was no more. Tina had grown feral, and her eyes seemed to glimmer red. Tina left her sister’s corpse and went to the man.

 Tina could feel herself dying, but she couldn’t tell from what. Had it been when her twin died some part of her died too? Something vital she couldn't live without? With her last breaths, she asked the man what he had done to her.

 The man chuckled. “A little poisoning in a drink never hurt anyone, did it?”

 For the man had in fact poisoned Tina with a little-known herb that causes someone to go feral and use all their energy trying to kill someone until they or their opponent died, or sometimes, like with Tina and Emi, both would, if the dose was strong enough.

 The man watched Tina’s body slump down and then left, into the darkness of the woods where most wouldn’t dare travel alone, but where the man felt no fear.”

 Yet again, the end of my tale demanded a couple seconds of silence.

 Then the man stated the obvious.

 “But you have no twin to fight. And what are the chances of being poisoned like Tina in your story?”

 I shook my head. “That is not the point. Has my story taught you nothing? Just because the circumstances are different doesn’t mean my fate would be any less unfortunate. Can you promise me that your gift would bring me happiness? Or would it just doom me to greed and a taste of poison in my drink? The reason tales like this exist is because people have too much of something that humans have no right to have. Maybe by tomorrow you could come up with a gift that could please me.” I said, and then got up, with the man watching me as I left his house with every intent to return the next day.

 I did return the next day, not even bothering to knock and I found the man waiting at the table again.

 Today, his cloak and gloves were varying shades of red, making it hard to distinguish what part of him was what since it all bled together.

 “What gift do you offer me today?” I asked.

 He sighed. “Today I offer you one wish. Name your wish and I shall grant it.”

 I thought for a moment. “Very well. I wish for you to answer one question for me, and to answer it honestly.”

 Again, I surprised him. “What question do you ask?”

 “The same one I did when we first met in the darkness of the woods. Who are you?”

 The man was silent for a second or two, then laughed hard.

 “Ah, you are clever. You chose well in your wish and well in your question.”

 They reached up with their blood-colored gloves and took off their hood.

 Nothing was underneath it, and their clothing suddenly fell to the floor.

 However, their voice still rang out;

“I am Death. I have been tricking mortals for a long time to join my ranks early in life by offering them gifts, and because of these gifts they have that no human should I can influence them and make them quicken their deaths so they may join me sooner. I was the prince in your first tale and the man with the cloak in the second. But you, clever mortal, refused each gift, and escaped my hands thrice over. By Death in this life you’ll be bothered no more.”

 Their voice disappeared. I stood silently for a moment then left, shaken by how close to death I had come. 

 I looked behind me after I left their house and saw it wasn’t there anymore.

 From then on I tell those I meet my tale and warn them against strangers in long cloaks. I teach them to be grateful for what they have, but mostly, to be grateful for what they don’t.