Ikigai

Grim Reaper

She stared up at the ceiling, shivering breathlessly as she listened to her ragged gasps. Despite the hollow ache that was slowly engulfing her body, she felt strangely euphoric. She'd never felt more alive, but she'd also never been perched so precariously on the brink of death. The Grim reaper was not a risk-taker, yet here it was, dancing on the edge of the darkness that threatened to consume her.

Perhaps she had known this was going to happen all along. Perhaps she knew from the start that the sparkling dark eyes and double-edged promises were just a sham, a flimsy disguise that only partially concealed the danger that lay ahead. Maybe that's what drew her in. And yet, how could the devil (or, at least, she assumed it was the devil) be luring her towards someone or something who, when they smiled, resembled an angel?

It was her own doing, having failed to comprehend the harm that results from near-sun flying. The surreal contrast of light and black, the two opposing extremes that come together to create a hurricane; it all happened too quickly and then exploded in intensity, bringing us to where we are now. And after everything, all she wanted was more time or to avoid it altogether? To receive even more frightening incidents, awe-inspiring memories, insanity, magic, and various other enticing aspects. Though she seemed like a sad addict searching for a hit in the midst of terrible withdrawals.

She lay on the hard stone floor in the dark, desperately keeping her eyes open, though her breath was short and her body light. The warm light blurred all the edges and muted all the colors so that the bright red blood she was losing (which seemed too harsh in relation to the way the soft light made it look) looked garish. A soft wind blew her hair, making her even colder than she already was. Her body shook with fear, like a tree in a storm.

She was overwhelmed by Grim reaper's presence, like a swarm of bees that filled the air with their buzzing, menace, and their overwhelming number. The Grim Reaper's bloody hands from her blood moved to smooth her hair back from her forehead, moving in a careful, loving way. Neither of them said anything, and the room fell silent almost immediately. 

The Grim Reaper gave a thin smile that only hinted at the emotions dancing behind her closed eyes. With a soft sigh, the Grim Reaper brushed her cheek with a single finger, whistling a slow, mournful song. She didn't want to do anything to make the gloom more heavy, but before losing the consciousness that's left inside her, the Grim Reaper stepped near to her face and whispered in her ear, "It's not yet your time to rest, my flower."