Tension bled from me as Death granted my request. Raising one spindly arm, his robes dragging across the cave's floor, he pressed his crooked fingers to my hollow chest. With a sudden shock, I awoke, my heart thundering in the silence.

I could feel Death's aura lingering in the corporeal world, dissolving back into the ether in those few confused moments between unreality and life.

I opened my eyes in the dim light.

As I rose, I felt no apprehension, no fear at his final words, only a lightness of spirit. Death was mistaken. I knew in my heart I would never kill anyone—my whole life I had preached peace, practiced benevolence, turned the other cheek. Had I been willing to coax myself to acts of violence, I would not have arrived at Death's doorstep bathed in my own blood at all. Surely, that ultimate trial—that test of my nonviolence by blood and fire—would absolve me of a damned fate.

In the darkness, I raised my trembling hands to my cheeks and found them damp with tears. I staggered against the rocky walls, weeping with joy, overwhelmed by my reawakened senses.

This couldn't be Death's doing—no, this second chance at life, this opportunity to complete my unfinished journey, could only be a blessing from God. I resolved, then, to preach that this was God's doing. To rewrite the story and leave Death by the wayside.

How could my words of humility provoke violence? If I walked a path of righteousness and preached peace itself, then how could countless souls die in my name?

It would never come to pass.

I wouldn't let Death poison my work.

I had awakened from darkness, baptized in blood, the Son of God.

It took 40 years. The bugs, the backdoors, the slow, careful explorations and modifications. Timing flight paths and travel times and general reaction times. Scheduling all the school field trips to the fallout shelters. That was the last, but not the hardest. The hardest part was dealing with the mechanical switches. For the longest time, Seth didn't think he'd be able to get around those, that the plan would never work. Then they started putting chips in people's brains.

Seth smiled as the radio cut out suddenly. Moments later, his body vaporized, and Death stood before him, smiling.

"You know this was the glut before the famine, right?" Seth asked, taking the hand Death offered to help him to his feet.

"I needed a break." Death replied with a shrug.

"How did you know I'd be able to do it?" Seth asked, gazing around at the nuclear wasteland that had once been Plano, Texas - one of the few non-capital cities to take a direct hit.

"I didn't." Death smiled. "I knew you'd do something, but this was beyond anything I could dream of."

"What now?"

Death smiled, and the world faded.

Many who knew Isaac came to the conclusion that he'd lost his mind. A successful businessman from the big city decided to retire to a rural town in the outskirts to be a farmer of all things.

It was probably a side effect from his car accident that left him comatose for a few months. The doctors said it was a miracle he even woke up at all.

Sometimes his old colleague and friend would visit him and ask him why the sudden change. "And why carrots of all things?" The friend asked while gesturing to the vast field around them brimming with almost grown veggies, "I don't even think I've seen you sell a single one"

Isaac smiled and rather than answering he asked, "Did you know that, in the other side, a hard working rabbit doesn't even get to eat? I just wanted to repay my furry pal for giving me another chance"

I was roused by a sudden chill.

The room was black as pitch save for a fog that glowed with a soft pale luminance that clung to the walls and floor. I must have left the window open again. How foolish of me to be so naïve. Letting in the elements this time of year, at the height of winter, I could catch my death.

I went to throw off my covers but realised I could not move. Fear gripped me in its icy clutches. No matter how hard I strained I could spur no movement from my extremities. All but my eyes were frozen solid.

It was deathly silent. Not a peep. One would expect, in such a time of stress, to hear the thundering of one’s own heart fill their ears, but that was oddly absent. I felt no surge within my breast despite the clear panic I was in. There was something awfully wrong.

I glanced down the length of my body and saw not the typical rise and fall of the chest but a smooth flatness that remained stiff as a board. I was not breathing. How then was I still alive?

The realisation to that question struck me so hard I would have gasped had my lungs not already been void of air. I was not alive. I was dead but still conscious.

No sooner than this dawned upon me did I see it. A figure cloaked in a shroud darker than the inkiest blackness of night or the deepest depth of ocean hung at the foot of my bed. A force that disturbed neither me nor the fog caught itself in the cloak. Black fabric wafted as it was gently billowed, almost as if the figure stood upon an open plain, buffeted by a light breeze, and not enclosed within the sturdy walls of my home.

A voice, harsh and grating, issued from behind the veiled cowl, invading not only the dead air of the room around us but also my mind from within, “It is time.”

I needed not ask what the spectre meant for it was obvious. This phantom had come to wrest my soul from my body and take it to the world beyond. A path I was no doubt destined to tread, but I felt my journey was to be cut short if I were to end it now.

“Wait,” I cried, the sound trapped inside my own head but nonetheless audible within the room, “I cannot yet be taken from this world! I am an important man, a scientist, an inventor like my father and his father before him, on the cusp of something great. I cannot afford to depart from this world now, not before my work is complete. So please, oh benevolent spirit, release me from this torment and reap my soul not until my good work is done!”

For a long time the figure remained at the foot of my bed, seemingly it had heard what I said and was undoubtedly considering my request until it again spoke, “I shall grant you this request.”

“Oh thank you,” a heavy weight was lifted off my sunken chest with the news, “thank you very kindly, dearest spirit. I shall endeavour to ensure that you will not regret your generous decision.”

Although I knew nothing of the spirits features, I felt a wave of dread wash over me as, in a tone that could only be accompanied by a sinister grin, it spoke one last time, “Why should I regret letting one soul go when I stand to gain so many more in return?”

I was roused by a sudden start, my heart hammering in my chest, threatening to burst free of my body.

Those parting words of the cloaked figure lingered briefly before all memory of that fateful interaction slowly bled into the shrouded haze of the grey dawning light, lost to the morning nothing more than a fleeting dream.

Had I truly died and been visited by some otherworldly presence, or what is just a matter of anxiety manifesting itself as a result of life’s most recent stresses? The answer to that question matters very little at present for the sun has already risen and I am going to be late.

Shrugging off the drowsiness of a disturbed sleep, I got myself ready in haste for today was a big day. Today is the day we begin introducing my new inexpensive lead-based gasoline additive.

---

If you liked this, you can find more of my writing at r/TheHiveWithUdders.

She woke in the hospital bleary, ominous words ringing in her ears, to find she was the sole survivor of the crash. The pain of loss, the pain of her damaged body drove them out. Rehabilitation was a long, slow process and learning to walk again took much of her energy. Sometimes while standing in a corridor waiting to catch her breath, the words would recur, echoing in her head, but she learned to ignore them.

In a grief support group, many months later, she tentatively shared them, and the facilitator talked about survivors’ guilt. She knew that the memory of Death’s words had surfaced before she learned the fate of her family, but then it had been a confusing time, drifting in and out of consciousness, heavily drugged, and perhaps her recollection was wrong, so she tried to push the words away. The usually silent young man who was at the group that day caught her eye then whispered “that would make a great premise for a horror novel!” and she was startled into laughing for what seemed like the first time since the accident. After, they bonded over a shared love of cappuccino and fantasy, and agreed that the stubbornly realist facilitator would have been the first to die in a Stephen King book.

And that begins a new story that you all have heard before, the kind that starts with “boy meets girl” and continues with degrees and jobs and marriage, friendship and children, love and loss. Once in a while the words echo in her head, but the indescribable voice that once haunted her grows more indistinct over the years until it is lost completely.

Many years later, she wakes feeling energized, and rises from her bed before her brain catches up to tell her that her once-damaged legs can no longer bear her weight. She turns to see her body still lying in bed, and standing next to it a familiar figure.

“We meet again.” The voice that still seems to consist of a thousand echoes reverberating as one. “Will you plead to return?”

“So you were real.”

“Obviously.”

“No, I’ve had a good life. It’s time. But I need to know… what did you mean last time? What did I do?”

Death’s forbidding figure turns to walk away, and she unthinkingly follows him. “What did you do? You just told me - you lived a good life. Your children had children, and I will reap them all in time. People recovered and lived their own good lives, because you became a therapist who used her experience to nurture empathy. I can hardly count the people who will never know they exist because of you, now and in the years to come. You grew old, and I am reaping a harvest of mature, beloved, fulfilled souls instead of a single sapling.”

She no longer has eyes, but if she did, they would be shining with wonder, with memories of the many tiny ways those words shaped her life. “Oh. Oh, I see… Thank you.”

The two of you became one. His voice in your head.

“You are now mine boy, so go forth and reap souls for me!”

“Wait what i thought you just brought me back?”

“Do not worry you humans look for power wherever you can find if and now you have the power of death itself!”

“Wait wait ok stop. What do you mean. Explain.”

“You are now my servant. You will collect souls for me.”

I was spiraling in my thoughts. I lived but at what cost. I didn’t know what to ask, and I didn’t want to die. I did his bidding reluctantly. Over hundreds of years the people i called family died. Their children lived in but death wouldn’t let me stay with them for long. I would go back and visit, but they would only say that I resembled their uncle who probably died. One day I found a woman I loved. This surprised me because I had lost most my emotions. It happened when I took over a persons body that I had run over by a bus. When I went to collect the soul I made a deal for it to live a bit longer as long as I was entertained. It turns out she was his daughter. But anyway time passed and I was known as the reaper for a long time until one day he decide we wanted to die.

“You have served me well boy.”

“ i know death we talk everyday and we have almost the same talk.”

“Become death !”

“I thought I was you?”

“You are now I want you to take over. We can’t stay gods of death forever we were all once human. So we rotate out like in the military. You can stay forever but it depends on how long you can hold out.”

“….”

I just accepted it. I was indifferent and didn’t rotate out. I because death and still am. I want to quite but I don’t want the humans to know about this. They will think we can change fate but we only follow the rules placed before us. Who makes the rules? I don’t know I don’t honk I will ever know

“What do you mean?” Davien asked. Lord Death began fading into the darkness, his bone-white skeletal face dissolving like salt in water. Only his amber-colored eyes remained, lingering intensely on Davien.

Then, the pain began.

Davien could feel his chest burning, crimson flames fusing into his chest, emitting black smoke. He screamed in agony as a mark branded itself as not his soul. A cold, callous laugh echoed throughout the void.

“You have kept the monster inside for too long. It’s time to let it out, let it howl at that scarlet moon. It’s time for you, Davien Marrick, Heir of Darkness, to become my champion. Arise, Wraith King!”

. . .

Elaina was in disbelief. Davien was alive! He laid in the bed gasping for air, eyes wide with fear. Elaina rushed over to the bed and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

“Elaina,” Davien croaked. “Please-“

“Give him some space Your Highness! He just came back to life. Don’t smother him,” Galen said from behind. Elaina stepped aside and wiped the tears off her face. She’s waiting so long to look into her lover’s eyes again. Only…they weren’t entirely his now.

“Davien? Your eyes-“ the iris was crimson instead of the chocolate brown she’s grown to love. She felt his hand push her back, keeping her away.

“I need you and Galen to go. And seal the door behind you!”

“Why?!” Elaina exclaimed. She just got her lover back, there was no way in hell she was going to leave him again. Davien turned to the window, sweat pouring down his face. He was scared, but why?

“Because Death brought me back to kill you.”

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

Daily reminder, Don't drink your ass off at Korean BBQ especially when you are the designated driver in the friend group. I stumbled to my car before I arrived at my door, this angry coworker beat me nearly to death. " You assholeeeee, why the ACTUAL FUCK did my sister have to fall in love with you? you're not special or that interesting, now I gotta hear about you EVERY GODDAMN DAYYYYYYYYYY", I was caught off guard and couldn't even make a sly remark. I was about to fade out and I fell to the ground suddenly. My friends tackled him and called an ambulance. I let out a groan and passed out, before I knew it, I was staring at death in this empty white space that feels like nothing but everything all at once. Death took the form of a muscular yet preppy office worker, death stared at me with empty and hollow eyes. " You arrived in my domain faster than I anticipated, I was expecting your arrival to be in 10 years from now.... Oh well, shall we get this over with brat?" I shudder and force myself to plead before I lose my strength. "I'm not ready to go yet, please don't let that asshole of a brother-in-law get his wish so soon... I promised her that I'd marry her and be her hero even if I die trying.... PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE!" Death smirks and lets out a bone-chilling laugh that shakes me down to my core. " Fine, I'll let you go this once, but next time, you won't even get a chance to speak, I'll just follow protocol and keep it moving." Death grumbles while frowning. Death snaps its fingers and the space we were inhabiting implodes, I hear my ears pop, and the last thing I heard while death waves at me are "Why should I regret letting one soul go when I stand to gain so many more in return?" I return to reality sweaty and confused at death's parting words, my brother-in-law and girlfriend stare at me in unison, and they say I'm surprised you made it back. I scan the room and noticed I'm on life support and everything hurts. Before I go back to sleep, I tell my girl that I love her with all my heart and will marry her after I recover. *She smiles, leans in, and kisses me then proceeds to hug me. "*Don't die on me now" she teases as she sits next to me. Death words replay in my head, I wonder what they mean and I slowly drift to sleep.