Horror and more

Death and his prize.

His breath was caught in his lungs, hooked beneath a surface of skin- struggling to get out. For a moment, he wanted to accept death, but death wasn't willing to accept him at all. No, death wanted to hear the man scream even more, to feel the blood rush and hear him scream.

" your so obsessed with digging their graves.." the males voice pipes up, with pain etched into his throat, death merely smiled in reply. Of course he was, for his duty carried out that purpose. " that is my purpose " was the gravely response.
The male seemed to squirm beneath the claws of death, pushing into their hands. He wanted to fight, but he coughed up blood, more than what he wanted to. Deaths lips curve, pulling up into a smirk. It bought him joy, seeing someone so willing to fight, so willing to die a heroic death...only for it to account to nothing in the end. It was amusing to say the least, every struggling soul whom thought they would win, death somewhat took pity...on these fighting souls, the type of pity which turned to torture.

Standing tall, death gripped the man's head, claws digging into scalp, he could feel the panic in their nerves, blood trickling down, dying the males hair red, what a pretty sight that was. The sky seemed red, it matched the man so well.. death pulled them up to their feet, his face drawing close. " do you wish to die now? With these wounds you have...you will not live" he spoke, tone soft, gentle even. Why was that? The man trembled slightly, knees shaking. How could death go from harm to comforting? Or was his tone just an illusion? The males eyes sparking with a fire, " I do not "
Raising an eyebrow deaths head tilts, he was soaked with his own blood, barely able to stand..and yet, this man still didn't wish to die? Now, this wasn't any fun at all. Death liked it better when prey fell.. he wanted this man to beg for his life, no no death wants the man to crave him, to crave an end.. deaths claws ripped away from the male, studying him.

This male, he wasn't special, no he didn't seem that at all. Just plain stupid, death placed a hand over his face, laughing suddenly. The noise bouncing around them, chuckling roughly " you amuse me human" he grumbled out, "so very much... but your time ends here.. you may not be like most pests who beg for their lives. But you'll make a grand trophy"
With that death swung his syth straight into the males chest, twisting it. Watching closely as the life sparks for a moment, before dying out slowly. Ripping the blade of the syth out the male grinned, now for the best part of the night.

Death kneels, cupping the man's face, " such a sweet canvas..you caught bravely. Yet what for hmm?" He murmured out, kissing the dead's man's lips, before taking knife to their chest. Death needed to make a name for himself, and with a name came art for others to see and fear. The blade dug into skin, opening it up, peeling at layer as if it were fruit. Death humming out, a canvas on a body was always more beautiful when the insides were pulled out. Death rummaging around, before grinning, his claws curling in, ripping out the heart of a man who fought so hard. " my beauty... this is your true form, you fought with this.. and now it's my prize, and your body a reminder to anyone else" he mumbled out, before standing and turning away, for now..death had enough.