Disclaimer: DEATH belongs to the inimitable Terry Pratchett and Death belongs to Markus Zusak, whose brilliant, hauntingly beautiful style I have poorly attempted to mimic.
I very much hope you like this; please review.
"By the way – I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me." - Markus Zusak The Book Thief
And so, when I first saw HIM, I admit I was tickled. There is so little left that can make me laugh.
The sky at the moment when I first met him was bone white, and trust me, I know.
***I don't know, not like that.
I will come for you long before
your skeleton is clean. ***
The sky was as white as the bleached skull he wore. I had come for souls even thinner and more skeletal than he. As I picked them up, ever so gently, I saw him standing, watching, and I could feel his pain, his fury, his horror, nudging up to mine.
***I say this is the first time I saw him.
I've known he was there all along.***
Finally, he took his scythe and in a swift, silver motion, cut one loose, freeing her from the prison of her shrunken corpse. He slipped an hourglass into his pocket, and then he looked at me. The fire in his eyes was deep, pure octarine. I knew what it was in an instant, and yet, in all my shades, I'd never seen it before.
***A new color, somewhere between purple and green***
The next time I saw him the sky was a warm, buttery yellow. The old woman's room was cream, with accents of chestnut. I VERY MUCH LIKE CATS – he said.
I hadn't even noticed the creature, for me humans are infinitely more fascinating. It saw us and stretched, a glare fixed in its eyes. He strode over to it and scratched it behind the ears.
***The Second Phrase I Ever Heard Him Say-
"HELLO, AREN'T YOU A FLUFFY LITTLE DEAR?***
His voice was not heard; it was felt.
We spoke together once, neither of our feet making any sound as we crunched over rubble and broken glass. A few patches were still burning.
We talked about the humans, how beautiful and how terrible you are, your mystifying capacity to hold so much good and so much evil.
***He's very fond of you.***
I could tell he'd gotten far too close, I could see the humans peeking out from behind the octarine flames of his eyes. He told me that he was human once, for a brief time.
We talked for a duration, it could have been an eternity or it could have been no time at all. Then, he picked up his scythe and we moved on.
We had a job to do.
Thanks for reading.