Notification for readers: hi, can you please stop liking before reading, like that is kinda obvious. I actually don’t care if you don’t have the time to read, seriously. By the way this is one of my many versions of ‘Death’, sorry if it clashes with any of yours, it was not intentional. And sitting cross legged on a table is great for reading. And sorry for the typos, please point them out if you see them. AND sorry if you find this story confusing.
Happy Today!, Thanks for reading.
Death entered the room and looked around, being a little more calculating than necessary, the paint has peeled away almost completely, leaving the air dusty, and it somehow reeked of spoilt cheese.
The dying man had a woman beside him, and both of them turned towards their very unwelcome guest.
Death coked it’s head slightly.
Arh, wizards and witches.
Obviously, being seen wasn’t a good thing if you were death.
After a failed attempt to smile, Death took a slow step forward.
The man sighed.
“Time for me to go.”
The woman’s face seemed to have paled.
Arh, ‘loving’ folks, always babbling. Couldn’t she’ve gone through all that an hour ago?
Death glanced around the dirty, yet somehow neat, room while waiting. Talking usually gave them a bit more time.
Death noticed a mirror at the far left side. It walked towards it. Wouldn’t you be curious to know what you yourself looked like? Well, death had a fraction of that curiosity too; the other fractions were worn off by the fact that it always looked moody and blac—
A feminine face stared back from the mirror, rightfully shocked. Goddesses weren’t associated with Death, other than in some rare tribes and—
Death glanced towards the man but what caught it’s—, er, her attention were the woman’s eyes, delicately blue.
Death glanced back towards the mirror; soft blue eyes gazed back.
So he loves her enough to never think about me? Ack, saddening.
She almost chuckled, but manners came up right in time; never chuckle when someone is dying.
Death inched closer to the mirror, inspecting her eyes, whatsoever, there was that slight gray to the pupils.
Damn the details, always screaming that it’s all a mask..., for something uglier.
The man was not dead, yet. The women was almost winning in keeping him alive, almost. If your death has materialized, you have no way of getting out of the trouble you are in, alive.
And as normal tradition, death always follows birth.
Death went back to gazing at her own appearance.
Hm, brown hair, carroty dress, better than last time this happened, when I was a dog.
She suppressed another chuckle and scrunched her nose, the stink of cheese was getting a bit unbearable.
How much more do I have to wait?
Death glanced towards the couple again.
The woman was talking to the spirit now.
Death’s eyes widened.
“Hey, that’s not allowed!”
The woman turned abruptly.
“But... we haven’t finished talking, he can’t go now.”
Death clenched her jaw.
“Then he died mid-speech.”
“Now, he died, he should not stay here anymore!”
The man’s spirit placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder.
“Honey, I died!, there is no better explanation, you wouldn’t have even seen me if you weren’t magic.”
“Yes and spirits aren’t supposed to stay with the alive, don’t make me wait more.”
“But, but, it’s all your fault!, you are responsible!”
The woman glared at death.
Death raised an eyebrow.
And who else could be responsible?
“And you will pay!” continued the woman
Death turned around and started walking out, the spirit followed obediently.
But the woman was still glaring, tears starting to run down her cheeks.
“I have a warning for you!”
Death halted, but didn’t turn.
“Well, well, what’s it?”
“I will win, and you will pay for what you do!”
As if I don’t pay already, by doing what I do.
Death clenched her jaw.
“Try not to kill yourself, lady” Because that will be what you’ll want to do after I have made you pay.
Death entered the room and looked around, being a little more calculating than necessary, the paint was fixed, the air was humid and it didn’t reek of spoilt cheese. After this long, all those things had to be changed.
But the mirror was still there, at the far left side, fixed to the wall. Its frame was repainted to a dark brown colour, some kind of stain was spreading up on it, and a faint crack ran down from a corner; other than that it was still the same, it was still a mirror.
Death took a step towards the mirror, to see a teenage face framed by shoulder length black hair gazing back from the hazy reflection.
Death felt a pair of eyes on him. He turned, the dying one, unluckily young, seemed to be sleeping.
Another boy was sitting on a table, legs crossed, a book in his lap. He put the book aside, and jumped down from the table, still staring at death.
“Em, who are you?”
Death scrunched his nose.
Another one of those foolish wizards
“I am death.”
The boy tilted his head towards the one sleeping.
“His time’s up? Already?”
His black hair fell in front of his face and he showed it away.
Death looked back to the mirror, comparing.
Arh, coincidence, coincidence...
“Why?, and what are you doing?”
Death turned and raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Because he is almost dead. And I am here to take him.”
The boy glanced back towards the dying one.
“Huh, I told him to be careful”
He bit his lip.
“Dunno why he would never listen”
The boy turned towards death again.
“But what are you doing, looking at the mirror.”
Doesn’t he even know why people look at mirrors?
“Looking at the reflection”
“Meh, if I was death then I wouldn’t care much about looks”
Death furrowed his eyebrows and turned to face the boy.
“You?, are not Death, I am, and if I cared about looks then I don’t know what would happen. I look different for every visit.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
The boy sighed.
The boy’s face dropped and dimed a bit.
“eh, you were the classic grim reaper for mom and for Tam you were more like a depressed dude and now you.., you are a, em, a person?”
“For each visit, I look like the dying one’s personification of me, and now I look like a, er, arh, yes, ‘a person’”
You to be exact
“So, you only get to play really gloomy roles?”
The boy scrunched his eyebrow.
“But for Ani you went as her mother, so she hated her mother? I thought that she loved her.”
“I have no idea who Ani is.”
“The little girl, stuck in a burning house, last year, died suffocating on smok—”
“Yes, yes I get it, that is different, she loved her mother a bit too much, I guess, when someone loves someone or something too mu—”
“You become that?, so you might end up as brownies or books when you come for me?”
Death raised an eyebrow.
“Uh..., possibly no”
“Eh, why is that?, you have never been a dessert before?”
“Your eyes are interesting...”
“Kinda like mine, dark-dark brown, almost black, but it also has a shade of gray.”
The boy stared.
“But it was almost white when you—”
“How many times have you seen me?”
“Why do you think that I am running away from you?”
The boy turned away, got back on the desk and resumed reading.
Death turned back to the mirror.
Dark-dark brown eyes, almost black, with a shade of gray.
He turned to look at the boys eyes that were running through pages.
Dark-dark brown, almost black, without a shade of gray.
He sighed and saw that the other one has died. Death gestured to the spirit and the dark-brown-eyed boy looked up from his book.
Death turned around and the spirit followed obediently.
The boy jumped down from the table.
“The alive aren’t supposed to talk to the dead”
Death turned around and sighed.
“What? Do you have a false warning for me too?”
“...well you might end up as books when you come for me, is that enough?”
Death chuckled and turned around.
The spirit too turned around, slowly, trying, and failing, to grab attention, he hung his head and followed Death.
Death shook his head.
You had all that time, before I came, didn’t you know that I could visit you anytime?
Death suddenly halted, turned around and looked at alive, shaken and staring face.
The boy looked up.
Death clenched his jaw.
“Arh, er, try not to kill yourself” Because however adapted you say you are,
I am death.