The Journals of Death.

Part Two

Life appeared by my side with a flash of light and the flapping of strong wings. To the humans down below, perhaps it appeared as if a strong gust of wind had cascaded across the top of the roof, throwing dirt down as it passed. A few of them looked up, wondering what had caused the noise, but most continued walking about.

"What do you want?" I snapped, turning a glare toward Life. "Shouldn't you be doing your job?"

"I am doing my job. I'm taking you back to The Underworld," Life wrapped his fingers around my arm, careful to avoid touching my bare skin, and took to the air. He was determined to drag me back to my 'rightful place.'

"Life," I whined, "Let me just take a few more. Please?" He knew I was messing with him, playing up the fact that he thought of me as a child. I could see the annoyance in his eyebrow twitch.

"You cannot take their lives into your hands because you feel like it. We have rules, Death. You must follow them." It's always about rules with this one.

"Ugh, you sound like my mother," I rolled my eyes.

"You don't have a mother," Life scoffed.

"Whatever, just get your hand off of me," I shook my arm away from Life's grasp. "I can fly perfectly fine all on my own even without my wings." He winced at these words. My wings? I know I used to have them, but I don't remember how I lost them. His reaction begs me to ask questions but a voice within me tells me to refrain, warning me that it is not my time to remember. I listen to it, this once, because I know Life (despite how much he complains about me being too childish) would prefer that I not get serious.

"If you so much as try to run away, I will catch you," Life snapped.

"You have so much faith in me, Life," I laughed. Of course, the minute he lets me go I was going to ditch him. Partially because I hate him, partially because I don't want to listen to anything anyone tries to force me to do, and partially because I can still see the tenseness in his eyebrows after the mentioning of my wings. I need to lighten the mood even if it means summoning forth a different type of annoyance.

I swung my scythe so that it would threaten to touch Life's skin. He'd been safe before, grabbing my clothed arm, but if I succeeded in touching him, he wouldn't be so lucky. The regeneration process for a guy like him would last far too long and build up so much work for him once he came back. He'd also be forced to leave me alone to my own devices, an utter catastrophe in his eyes.

I utilized his hesitation to make my escape. Laughing, I could see the rage smoldering within him. Rage so vibrant it was only comparable to the dark flames of The Void. Look at us, two cosmic beings chasing each other over and around Earth as if playing God's game, leaving behind fissures and wicked storms in our wakes. It took all of Life's willpower not to summon his holy sword and impale me every time he got close. Each time he lifted his hand, mumbling the beginning words to the phrase of summoning, but refraining. He was a dignified being, not a childish twat-- he found no enjoyment in this chase. Unlike me, of course, who would admit to being a childish twat here and there. Most importantly, my plan had worked; he was so focused on chasing me that he forgot all about the wing comment.

I deftly avoided every trap that Life planted on the cities of Earth. I slipped through nets of light invisible to humans and dodged blasts of power meant to knock me off my feet. That is, until I couldn't. The second I lost my focus, reveling in my triumph, was the minute I ended up ensnared. A carefully crafted trap utilizing a cosmic rope and a cleverly placed tree.

Life stood, panting. He'd promised himself a while back that he'd exercise a bit more, but the desk job upstairs didn't allow for that. He could alter his appearance using other means but this guy is so by the book in everything, pretending to be human all of the time, I doubt he ever will. Especially not when his work kept piling up because of my inability, and lack of desire, to follow the rules.

As I hung upside down, tethered from one ankle and swung from side to side to try and gain enough momentum to reach the branch, he laughed at me. This dance around Earth had left me in a situation I would've rather avoided. Life was a tricky little thing that never played fair. Conveniently, growing trees wasn't in the rulebook for a good chase around Earth. Not saying I wouldn't do it too if I had that kind of ability. But still, it's strange to see this uptight guy laughing and using a tree-trap to get me. It's as if he has reverted to being a child for once. I haven't seen him laugh like this in quite some time.

"Why don't you summon your scythe to you?" Life taunted. "Surely you can do that much, right Death?" I shot him a glare. This scythe was crafted by my own hands. It wasn't a blessed object provided to me by Heaven like his Holy Sword. I couldn't simply summon it.

"I cannot believe you created such a trap for a lady," I frowned. Gravity pulled my robes down to hang annoyingly around my face, revealing my black tights. The chain belt I wore over my robes prevented further display. I swatted them away so I could maintain eye contact.

"Lady? I see no lady here." Life crossed his arms. "This should teach you not to go on killing sprees whenever you feel like it. There are plenty of people on the list that you could be reaping, but you insist on going after the ones that have plenty of time left on Earth. Maybe trying to escape from my trap will provide you with enough time to reflect on your poor decisions and ultimately learn your lesson," Life spread out his wings and rose into the sky, heading back to Heaven. Sheesh. He always talks like some human trying to meet a word count requirement.

"Wait!" I yelled. "Are you just going to leave me here?! Come back!" I continued swinging furiously in an effort to reach the branch. Either I would reach the branch or the rope would break. At this point, either scenario was acceptable.

Neither plan was working.

"If I could just grab my scythe," I muttered, stretching as far as my body would allow to reach the weapon of mass destruction lying beneath me. It was futile. Scythes are simply weapons. Tools for average reapers to use to help them collect souls on the list. I invented them, but that doesn't mean I can draw it toward me.

A place of punishment, similar to Hell, but for the most dangerous entities.

Many scythes are authorized by Hades for creation and distribution among reapers. I developed this tool for my personal needs and decorated it for my own tastes but Hades saw the weapon as useful for all and modified it for reaper use.