Death
Lucia sat under a tree in her loose white dress. She stared at the pages of the book in her lap but she did not read it. How could she, knowing what she knew? “Death is coming soon and he won’t let me cheat him out of my soul again.” she whispered, her hands clenching into fists. Despite that the woman looked to be in her early twenties she was actually quite old; older than any other human being that had existed. Through her lifetime her golden hair had never lost its shine, her emerald eyes had never lost their sparkle, and her pale face had never gained a wrinkle. The reason for this was that she had tricked the servant of the Death, commonly called a reaper, that had come for her many times by giving him riddles to solve, and while he was away solving them she kept the appearance she had when she had died.
It was quite easy to trick him. The first time he had come for her she had told him she would serve him after her death if he could solve a riddle. He had agreed and left to solve it. It had turned out that it actually took him a few dozen years to solve it. She had continued to strike the same deal, every time making his prize better. Being the arrogant creature he was -just as Death and his other servants were- he naturally accepted the deal each time.
Now she was sure Death himself would intervene. Even so, she knew she would be able to live a little longer. But the same reason she would be able to live for a while more was the same reason she was worrying so much. She looked up from the book when a cloaked figure appeared in front of her. She could instantly tell it was not the servant that normally came for her even though they both looked extremely similar. This one’s presence felt much different, and somehow weaker.
“You cannot take my soul; you do not have the authority.” Lucia said. She had gotten the reaper that had continuously came for her to answer a few questions and had found that only Death and the reaper assigned to take it could take someone's soul. Despite Lucia’s words the figure advance. Lucia instinctively backed up until she was pressed up against the tree trunk behind her. The figure stopped a few in front of her, keeping his gaze focused on her.
“Save your breath, mortal.” it spat, “I am not here to take your soul; I am here to deliver you to death.” Before Lucia could give any type of response the figure threw back his hood and Lucia’s vision went black. When it returned, she was standing in white mist. She couldn’t make out the ground, or the sky, or anything around her. There was only mist. She wanted to run and get away from here where she knew death awaited her, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t know how long she stood there, but whether it was hours or seconds it still felt like an eternity.
Finally another cloaked figure appeared. This one was similar to the first, and yet so very different. Its presence was overwhelming, it was taller, he carried a scythe made entirely out of bones, and his cloak- well is cloak was the strangest think Lucia had ever seen. It seemed to be almost wispy, as if were made out of a dark cloud and it was constantly moving and yet kept the same shape. It was obvious this was Death.
“Do you have a riddle prepared for me?” he asked in a deep voice with a tone of mockery. Lucia shook her head. “Then I shall be taking your soul.” He said. She felt herself being pulled forward by an invisible force that stopped pulling once her face was inches away from the shadow that hid Death’s face. He brought his bony fingers to Lucia’s face and ran them down her cheek, almost in a loving way. Lucia slapped his hand away as soon as her mind registered what was happening. When she noticed blood on his fingers her went to her cheek, where she found gashes where Death’s fingers had touched.
Strangely enough she didn’t feel any pain until she saw the blood on her cheek. She inhaled sharply as her nerves began to scream in pain. Death let out a satisfied noise that probably went with a smirk concealed under his hood. Lucia stumbled backwards, a look of terror on her face. “You cannot take me. You cannot take my soul.” she choked out.
“And why’s that?” Death asked. It was obvious from his tone he thought she was trying to plead with him or come up with a lame excuse. “Though you can reap life, you cannot touch what starts it.” Lucia said, placing her bloodied hand on her stomach. Death stayed silent for a moment before responding: “Very well then.” He said, “I shall see you in nine months.” He disappeared and soon after the mist began to clear, revealing the spot Lucia had been before. She fell to her knees, sobbing. She knew she’d no longer be able to evade death.
