Life, Death, and Chaos

Part IV

"I told you, you don't need to come with me," Death said for the fifth time.

                   "I know," Life agreed. "But I want to. Besides, it should be more interesting than algebra."

                   Death didn't know what to do with that statement. Was she really only more interesting than algebra? Literally anything was more interesting than algebra.

                    She avoided meeting Life's gaze for the rest of the walk, until they stood side by side in front of the door to Chaos's office.

                     Death raised a hand to knock but stopped halfway through. Maybe it would be better if she forgot everything. She could have a life without grief.

                     "I'll do it," Life whispered. She tapped the wood twice, then gave Death a quick, worried look.

                    No one answered for a few moments. Death cleaned her glasses on her shirt. Life kept blinking wildly.

                    The door flew open, and Chaos Mayhem stood there, flashing a wide, sinister smile. Or maybe the sinister part was just Death's imagination.

                    "Death," Chaos said grandly. "I'd been hoping to see you here soon. Come, sit." 

                    Nope. The sinister wasn't imagined.

                   Death stepped forward into the office. Chaotic was the only way to describe it. The desk was piled high with various books, magazines, and other reading materials. A computer on a bookshelf covered in scratches was opened to a Wikipedia page about terrorism. The banged-up hardwood flooring was covered with holes, staples, and pieces of tape. Death saw at least three separate tape dispensers on the floor alone–and there was a stapler sitting on top of a pile of books. She wondered how Chaos even thought when the room was this messy.

                   "Sit," Chaos ordered. They glanced at the doorway, where Life was standing awkwardly. "Oh, you too, if you must." Life moved forward and plopped into the chair to Death's left.

                   "So," Chaos said once they were all seated. "I assume this is about the note."

                   Death pulled it out of her pocket and slapped it down on the table, hard enough to cause a chapter book on the very edge to crash to the ground. "Yes. Explain."

                   Chaos smiled. "It's a rather complicated story. So, I assume you've figured out that I'm the elemental for chaos?"

                    Life and Death both nodded.

                    "Good. So. As the elemental for chaos, I thrive when things are chaotic. Which means that I thrive during wars, and my survival generally depends on things being disorderly."

                    That sounded like an absolutely horrible existence, if you asked Death. But clearly it was working for them.

                     "My job as Chaos is essentially to make things more chaotic, both so that I survive and so that the world doesn't become so orderly that people forget what chaos is, who I am."

                       "What does this have to do with me?" Death blurted, cursing her voice for shaking.

                       Chaos raised a single, perfect eyebrow. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

                       Death's purple eyes locked with Chaos's flaming red ones. "No."

                       Chaos sighed, a long sigh that seemed to last for eternity. The exasperation in their voice was clear. "You're Death, right? The elemental?"