Death Never Scared Me

Chapter 2- Damien

"Please," the man begged. "I can't be dead! Send me back, I promise I'll live a better life. Just please, let me live."

I sigh, this is the fifth time today. "No," I sternly reply. "That's not how this works. I can't just send you back. Once you're dead, you're dead. Nothing I can do about it."

"You're the God of Death!" The man yells in disbelief. "Surely there's something you can do!"

"Unless you want to go back as a walking corpse and have your family knock you out with a shovel, sending you right back down here, there's nothing I can do," I stand up from my throne and take a step towards the man, who backs away in fear.

"Fine," he grumbles.

Smiling as softly as I can, I snap my fingers and a thick book materializes out of hot, red flames into the air in front of me. The man peers at it curiously, no doubt pondering what these ruins on the front and back covers mean and what's inside this giant book. Everyone that comes down here always seems interested in the book. Do mortals not study the ruins anymore? Surely there has to be someone up there that can read the ruins, right?

"Is that-" the man stutters, pointing with a shaky hand at the book. "Is that the Book of Fate?"

"Indeed it is, my friend," I reply. "Don't worry, it's not as bad as mortals make it out to be."

I try to be as calm as I can down here, but I don't know how much longer I can stay this collected. I don't know why people always make me out to be some sort of monster. Maybe the whole "God of Death" thing freaks them out. From what I've heard, mortals find me hideously ugly and cruel. They tell their children stories making me out to be evil, a blood-sucking creature that will take them to Varlden if they don't behave. I just don't know how much longer I can pretend to be nice when these mortals put me in such a bad light.

"Oh gods, what is it for me?" the man begins to panic again. "The fire pits? Please tell me it's not the fire pits!" he shouts.

"No, not the fire pits," I chuckle. Mortals crack me up sometimes. I flip through the Book of Fate and scan my finger across the page until I find the man's name. "Seems like you haven't done anything too cruel in your time in the mortal world. Eh, you stole some bread once to feed your family, but who wouldn't?" I snap the book closed and it vanishes into the flames. "You're free to do whatever you want. Pick up a new hobby, go visit loved ones that have passed on, I don't care," I shrug.

His eyes light up and a wave of relief washes over him. "Thank you!" he cries. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," I say. "But if I get word you do something cruel it's straight to the pit for you got it?" I growl.

He nods. "Understood."

"Good," I smile. "You're dismissed."

He trots out the throne room and the giant wooden doors slam shut behind him.

I sink into the throne. Gods, this is exhausting. I wish I could go back up to the mortal world, just once, for a change of scenery. I let out a deep sigh and glance around the room, letting myself get lost in thought. It's so empty in here. Such a vast room and the only things in it are some candelabras and this red and black seat that has grown very uncomfortable over the centuries. I guess I could change it whenever I wanted, no one's stopping me from doing that. Eh, maybe another time.

A knock at the door sends me out of my daydream. Ugh, I thought I was done for the day. I sit up in the throne, preparing for another mortal to walk in and demand that I bring them back to life.

To my surprise, a glowing figure waltzes in. Just great, Anastasia decided to visit. She never comes down here, what could she possibly want? Probably just here to boast about how much joy and life she brought to the world today, while I have to be the asshole God of Death that ruins people's lives.