A Deal with Death

•08•

Evalyn's POV

"I'm taking you on business, now." Death stated, walking into the room, "Get changed into one of the dresses in the closet. Meet me in the Dining Room in 5 minutes."

"Wait!" I called as he went to walk out, "What kind of business?"

He stopped walking, turning and looking at me with pitiful eyes, "I'm the god of death. What do you think my job is?"

"To guide souls here?" I guessed, unsure.

"Close. I collect the souls of those who are ready to die. Who's time it is to die. The issue is, if they're not already dead, say in a hospital, in order to sever the soul from the body, I must kill them myself." Death explained.

My face contorted into one full of shock and horror, "How am I suppose to help with that?"

"Don't worry, I won't make you kill them." Death assured me, "I want them to feel more comfortable. To embrace death. It's always as painless as possible, but sometimes it may hurt a little. Only for a second, though. I want you to help me make them feel braver, more ready to face death. I want you to help prepare them."

"Okay..." I choked out, horrified at what I must do now.

"Get changed." Death asked, as he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

****

I was back in the land of the living, where I belonged mere hours ago.

We were at a hospital, different from the one I "died" in. It looked similar, though. Fluorescent, bright lights that blinded my eyes, the scent of chemicals and medicine, the smooth, somewhat slippery floors. Nurses and doctors bustled around us, not glancing up at us for a moment.

"They can't see us. We're invisible to them," Death explained, "We start in room 211."

He took my hand gently and led me outside the room, "Who's in there?"

"His name is Greggory Wendell. He's 54 years old. Both parents are dead, both in Asphodel. Married to Michelle Wendell, who we'll come back for in around 2 years. His cause of death will be tremendous brain damage, but it'll be painless. All you need to do is talk to him, and help him get ready to die." Death told me, not sugarcoating it for me in the slightest.

Smoothing down my black dress, I nodded and knocked on the door softly before twisting the nob, letting myself in.

A man sat on a cot, hooked up to an IV with bandages wrapped around his head. His left eye was swollen shut, with a fresh cut above his lip. His un-swollen, maple eye stared at me, looking me up and down, "Do I know you?"

"No. In fact, you're the only one here who can see me." I explained, gently.

"Am I going insane?" he groaned in pain.

"No. But, you are suffering severe brain damage. It..." I trailed off, "It's...your brain damage...it's..."

"It's, what?" the man asked, eyes wide with fear.

I took a shaky breath as I said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Wendell. Your brain damage is fatal."

"How do you know? You're clearly not a nurse, or a doctor."

"I'm not. I'm..." I trailed off. Who am I? What am I supposed to say? I'm Death's helper? Lackey? Prisoner? Slave? I don't know.

"You're..." the man pushed me.

"My name is Evalyn." I sighed, "And, I'm here to help you prepare for your death."

****

"What kind of prank is this?" Mr. Wendell scoffed.

"Not a prank. I'll...I'll bring him in to help explain it better...I won't let him do it until you're ready though, that I can promise." I assured him.

I opened the door to see Death gripping his scythe. I gestured for him to come in. He lifted his scythe off the ground and walked in with it by his side.

"Hello, Greggory." Death greeted the man, "I'm the god of Death, but most people refer to me as 'Lord Death' or 'my lord.' Has my beautiful girl here explained to you what's going to happen?"

I blushed when he called me beautiful, feeling the butterflies fill my stomach as I looked at the ground. The man nodded, slowly, fear growing in his eyes.

"Okay. You'll be divided into one of the three sections. One for the good, the bad, and those in the middle. Most people are in the middle and go to Asphodel. Now, the pretty girl standing by my side will help you prepare, and whenever you're ready, I'll take you with me." Death told him, in a calm voice, like he was reciting a manuscript that he's memorized for years.

The man looked at me, "Are you dead?"

"To a certain extent. My father was in the hospital with cancer. For some reason, I could see Lord Death, even though I wasn't supposed to die for many years. I traded places with my father. He's now cured, but I live in Hell with Lord Death, so his life could be saved. Mercifully, he didn't kill me, he simply took me with him." I explained.

The man took a deep breath, "Okay. Explain what's going to happen."

"I'm going to put something in your IV. It will kill you, and I'll take your soul will go to the Underworld." Death cut in.

"It'll be painless, I promise. Just like falling asleep." I comforted him, "Do you have any questions?"

"Do you know when my wife will be joining me?" the man asks, with tears in his eyes.

"In around 2 years." I answered.

"Okay." he takes a deep breath, "Anything I have to do before you do it?"

"I know it seems silly, since no one is here to hear them, but do you have any final words to say in the land of the living?" Death asked, "Sometimes it helps people prepare."

"It won't hurt, will it?" Greggory asked.

"Not even a little bit. You can hold my hand while he does it, if you want." I extended my empty palm for him as he grabbed it tightly.

"Thank you..." he whispered as Death injected a small needle into his IV.

I felt his grip on my hand loosen, and in moments, his skin was cold, his hand dropping to the cot. He was dead.

****

Any predictions?