Chapter Text
It was an early Wednesday morning in late December. The sun had just popped up into the cloudless sky, shining their light on the sleepless, crowded city of London. A perfect day for an unfortunate incident.
Death sighed deeply as he stood over the body of a young woman, who laid on the ground next to the bloodied bonnet of the car crashed nearby. She had blonde, curly hair and wore a long puffer coat, which had been completely doused with blood as well, as the loss had been her own; due to her internals now being rather external, instead.
Paramedics rushed up to her and tried to resuscitate her, but to no avail. A crowd had formed behind the barricade tape, curiously goggling the aftermath of the accident, whilst a short, bald man with a bruised temple was pacing around the scene, screaming profanities through his phone. Some people nearby complained about the street being set off as they were now forced to take a detour to get to their destination, much to their chagrin.
It was a chaotic way to start the day.
For Death, however, it was a workday like any other. He lit up his cigar, and waited until the light left the young woman’s eyes.
She woke up confused — like they always do — not understanding why no one seemed to be able to see her, or chose to ignore her even when she yelled out to them. Her heart sank as she looked back at the body whence she came, and she staggered backwards, away from the troublesome sight before her eyes.
As Death looked closely at the woman stumbling around in front of him, he noticed a sigil floating over her head. A rare sight, to be sure, he thought, still smoking his cigar. He told himself to ask management about that, later. But first, some introductions were in order.
“Good day to you, young one.” Said Death after clearing his throat to announce himself. His voice was low like a drum, yet sharp like a knife.
The woman jumped up, not having detected his presence so far. Her mind had been preoccupied by other things, such as the presence of a dead body and a crowd of rude bystanders.
“Good morning, sir.” She replied gingerly, “Could you tell me what has happened here, exactly?”
Death stayed silent and continued to smoke his cigar, which was nearly burned up by now, whilst she eyed him up and down suspiciously. Something was off, she thought, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t see his face as it was obscured by a deep hood, but smoke came from it in little rings as the stranger kept puffing away.
“An accident.” He said at last.
The young woman found him to stand out greatly from the crowd around her with his long, grey cloak and concealed characteristics; yet no one seemed to notice him, either. It was as if the pair of them was invisible, which could not be true, as she knew it to be impossible.
“Wait— who are you?” She asked curiously.
“I am Death.” He replied, “Here to guide those that have moved on to the afterlife.”
“Like, the Death?”
“The one and only.”
“Huh.” She said, a bit taken aback by that.
“So, today must be your lucky day.” Death continued gruffly, “It’s not every day that it’s your last.”
“Is that— is that me?” The young woman asked, pointing her trembling finger at the mangled body that laid there, spread-eagle across the concrete painted red.
“Wait, sorry— back up a second…” Her head snapped around to face him again with narrowed eyes and low leaning brows, just realising what he had said, but still a bit unsure if she had heard him correctly.
“… did you just say this had been my last day? But it’s morning! The day has only just begun!”
Death threw his burned up cigar on the ground, and crushed it like a common cigarette.
“Am I… dead?” She didn’t dare ask, but it was the only logical assumption.
“I’d have thought that was obvious, really.”
Regrettably, she found it hard to argue with him on that. She did look quite dead, the woman thought as her eyes fell on the corpse again.
Then, to her shock, Death’s hood shifted ever so slightly, revealing the macabre sight of two empty cavities on a bare, skinless skull, staring back at her. She stifled a gasp.
Death, however, seemed oblivious to her gaping at him (or he simply did not care), and merely rolled up the sleeve of his bony arm with a battered, black, leather watch strapped to his wrist. He looked at it, casually checking the time.
“Then again,” He went on, “you’ve realised faster than most. Well done.”
“Thanks. I— I can’t believe it…” The woman replied mournfully, “Is that why no one can see us?”
He gave her a nod while he continued, his hollow sockets still focussed on his watch, “Precisely. However I would like to discuss this further, I’ve got work to do. So I believe we should get going.”
“Right. Go where, exactly?”
“The afterlife, of course.”
“… of course.” She repeated sarcastically. Where else would dead people go to rest?
“Let us go, Noah Burns.” He nudged towards the other side of the set-off street.
“You know my name?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Naturally. I’ve come to pick you up personally, didn’t I?”
“Yes, I suppose you did.”
“Hence, as I’ve said before, we should really get going— oop, hang on.” He paused and asked her to wait after being interrupted by a high pinging noise that came from inside the pocket of his cloak. As he reached for it, another pinging noise quickly followed, and another, and then one more. Now a bit more annoyed, Death grumbled something about impatience and disrespect (“the audacity!“) as he took out what Noah recognised to be something of the like of a mobile phone, and proceeded to scroll on it as one would on such a smart device. She couldn’t make out heads or tails what he was thinking from the expression on his face, as it was just a skull, but going by the tone of his voice, he seemed a tiny bit miffed about whatever he had read on there. If he could roll his eyes, he would. But alas, it appeared he had none to roll.
“I regret to say: plans have changed. I guess I won’t be taking you to the afterlife after all.” With a disgruntled huff, he pocketed the phone again.
“Pardon?”
He walked up to her and laid his cold, bony hand on her shoulder, supposedly to reassure her. But she did not feel reassured— not in the slightest. The big, empty cavities, where normally would have rested his eyes, stared deep into her soul. Which made her feel highly uncomfortable.
“You’re going to forget all about this, of course. I apologise in advance.” He said, “Best of luck, young one. I’m certain you’re going to need it wherever you’re going.”
“I don’t understand—”
But before she could finish her sentence, he flicked her with his finger (and though he used only one finger, it was done with considerable force), causing her to fall backwards.
“Goodbye, Noah Burns.”
Just as she was about to hit the ground, she noticed that to her amazement, she fell right through where she thought she would hear a loud thud and collide with the concrete below. She continued to fall, until someone suddenly pulled her up from behind by the collar of her coat.
Up was now down, and down was up: her feet were still connected to the ground on the other side, but when she looked down, she saw the sky, and Death, who was staring back at her until a darkness consumed the floor once more.
Noah turned around quickly to see who had helped her up, but she couldn’t see hand for eyes in this obsidian wasteland. All she could see was a blackness, with nothing clear to be found in sight. It seemed that somehow, she had entered some kind of eternal abyss of darkness.
How did she get here again? Noah thought to herself. She was certain she had known only a moment ago, but holding onto her memories felt like holding water in her hands. They were seeping through the cracks, unable to stay with her any longer.
Frustrated, she tried to remember what she did know. But, unfortunately, her confounded memories stayed hidden as if behind lock and key. She cursed, and began to walk in an indiscriminate direction, trying to find a way out, when an odd ringing filled her ears.
It started off like a sound that reminded her of soft bells, distant and somewhat pleasant, even; but then it quickly amplified until it became deafening. Maddening. She clasped her hands to her ears, begging for it to stop. Still it only grew louder and louder, until finally, she stumbled upon a tree where the sound abruptly ceased to plague her ears.
There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the tree, other than that it appeared to grow from nothing, into nothing, in complete darkness. It stood tall, leafless and unmoving, as no wind was passing through. Noah drew closer, inspecting it from top to bottom, but she couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. It was just a tree.
Then, she felt something heavy sink into her hand. After opening her fist, she saw it was a little figurine of a jade elephant. She wondered if it held any significance that she had perhaps forgotten about, and twirled it around between her fingers, fascinated by the small piece of ceramic.
A moment later, and quite unexpectedly so, the tree spontaneously combusted into flames. Noah swiftly stepped back as to avoid being set on fire herself, still holding onto the figurine, clutching it tightly by her chest. Yet the tree did not burn down. It just burned, brightly and dangerously.
Before she could question this any further, Noah found she had begun to sink into the ground. The floor, which once had been solid, had now turned into a gooey pool of liquid, like thick, black ink, gurgling— hungry.
Having been caught off guard, Noah let out a panicked scream once she noticed her body was starting to dissolve into the ground. She swung her arms around wildly in an attempt to get out. During all this turmoil, she accidentally flung the little figurine high into the air. It landed a few feet away from her, and whilst she tried to stay afloat and make her way towards it, she couldn’t: the ground swiftly and unforgivingly overwhelmed her like quick sand, absorbing her until nothing was left.
And the darkness was still again.