Mortal Mishaps | 2023 Gen 3 Contest Entry | Collaboration

Chapter 5 | Age 29

Patience is not my strong suit. Ironic. I have been waiting in the reception area of Death's place for hours. The prospect of Death having not one but two receptionists - who were throwing curious glances at me now and then - was more shocking than me dying for the 13th time. Doubt fills my mind when I ponder over the chances of them sending me back this time too. If they do, I would owe yet another date to the infuriating entity.

"I am not surprised to see you here again but never have I seen you this frustrated when here. What disaster fell upon you?"

I did not shriek in a stereotypical girl manner.

"You shrieked. That is new. Very refreshing from your usual throwing-threats-at-everyone persona."

If Death could die, they would have by the laser-sharp glower I cast their way. "Where the fuck were you?!" I jump to my feet. They raise their hands in surrender. Scaring Death themself is a new height to my achievements. Pleased with my win, I plop down on the steel chair again, checking my nails. These need a trim. "And the chairs need to be changed. They are too uncomfortable. Now, where were you?"

"Had to pick up a few souls from Earth. It took time, they were slow," they sighed. "Not everyone is as eager and fast as you when it comes to dying." The jab does not go unnoticed by me but I consider that as an achievement too. When I met Death for the first time, their personality was as bleak as a piece of cardboard. The aura they emitted was both blank and black. Too dark. Black is classy but colors have their appeal. I am happy that I am rubbing off on them.

"Ha ha ha. Whatever."

"You did not answer my previous question."

"Ugh! Do not remind me. Derek and Stiles did not end up being a couple."

"What? Who"

"Derek and-"

"I got that part but-" Death cut themselves off mid-sentence. So rude. Interrupting others and themself. As I go to voice my thoughts out loud and discuss behavioral aspects with them, my gaze follows theirs. The receptionists are sitting there with their cheeks tinted red and although their eyes are on the computer screen - they have computers here? - their eyeballs are moving slightly in our direction after non-uniform intervals. They are eavesdropping. Rude, again. Why is everyone so rude here?

"Let us go inside," Death suggests and leads the way to a door. "Who are the people you mentioned earlier?" They inquire once we reach their place.

"Derek and Stiles are the characters of the series I am watching. I wanted them to be a couple."

"Leif, it is okay."

"No, it is not." I pout childishly and cross my arms for a more dramatic effect. Pout? I am getting too comfortable in Death's presence. "You're not even going to yell at me for dying recklessly?"

"Will you stop dying recklessly?"

"No promises." Sheepishly, I admit.

It seems like they were expecting such an answer from me. They shake their head and change the subject thankfully. "How do you know they won't end up together in the future?"

"Because Stiles got with Lydia!"

"As far as I understand the concept of the human series, there are many changes before it comes to an end. Maybe Derek and Stiles will be a pair later at some point."

"To console myself, that is a good point but not happening."

"Why?"

"Simple. Because gay is gay, straight is straight."

"I remember you giving me an educational lecture on this, concluding it with everyone is queer."

"I mean yes but I am still upset." It is a lie. From within, I am dancing in glee that Death pays attention to my words. They remember my ramblings. Maybe I can solidify now that we are friends. I barely have any on Earth. How cool is it that I have one in another realm? Hard to imagine the faces of Diana and Kai if I tell them this. And Jacob? He will probably not believe me and sulk in the corner because I lied.

"Then we can talk about how you died this time."

"No."

"Why not? I can always check it myself in my records." Sometimes Death can be kind but that is a rare occurrence. Today is not the day when I will be seeing their kindness reflect through their words. They know that I know this. The smirk on their face is a clear indication. I huff at their audacity.

"Please."

"Alright, I will not check." Their eyes are glinting with - dare I say - mischief. I narrow my own at them, waiting for them to crack. They notice. "You are paranoid. Let us talk about you." My muscles twitch before relaxing. "Your favorite color?"

"Really? Purple."

"Favorite flower."

"Lily."

"Book?"

"Mortal Mishaps."

"Singer?"

"Taylor Swift."

"I do not know who that is. Next question. How do you like your cereal?"

"Milk after cereal."

"How do you prefer your tea?"

"Boiling."

"How did you die?"

"Catapulted to the deck side instead of into water while blobbi-" I am realizing my mistake too late. They are already looking amused. This mangled beetle-headed dewberry! "You are a -" Before I can finish the sentence I am back on Earth. I look at the sky and yell loudly "DISASTER! A damn disaster." Death's laughter rings in my ears as I start my walk home.