In Love with Death

"my name is Death and the end ïs here..."

~Jen Titus, O' Death

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Chapter 1

Anna Mable Cogburn wasn’t severely maimed or anywhere near close to her last breath the first time that she encountered Death— one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Anna was, in fact, as healthy as a horse, at seven years old. At the time, she was standing in a meadow just a few miles out from the lavish home her parents owned. She remembered that day as clear as crystal, just as if it had only happened yesterday.

Anna’s younger years weren’t the best years of her life. By the age of seven, she had lost a lot of the people in her life that she held most dear to her. These people were the closest family members she had; her great grandmother, Mable Crooks, her great grandfather, Clifford L. Crooks, her grandmother, Sophie Cogburn, and last, but not most certainly not least, her recently deceased father, Reuben Cogburn. Needless to say, this was a difficult time for young Anna, and she wanted to get away from it all.

One morning, Anna slipped on her wellington boots and donned her rain jacket. She slung a blanket over her arm and carried a small basket of food in the other, and marched out the front doors of the house. She made not a sound as she went.

The day was clear, not a rain-threatening cloud was in the sky as she marched down the long, narrow path at the west side of the house. This lead to the edge of the forest. Her father had taken her down this route, which lead to a meadow of wild flowers, many times before. She knew the way there and back again by heart.

She had learned many things from him on these hiking trips. Things such as to always be prepared for any weather that could come, even on a sunny day. To be properly prepared for walking long distances and bring a whistle just in case of trouble as well as to bring small portions of food, and many more simple survival tricks.

Reuben would show young Anna the many kinds of plants, ferns and trees that grew along the dirt path. He taught her what plants she could touch and eat, and others which she should avoid at all costs. Anna idolized her father for his wisdom and positive outlook on life and found herself following his every footstep just as his own shadow would. Of course, Reuben didn’t mind this at all.  He loved his little Anna more than anything else in the world, other than his wife, Leandra. He cherished every moment with his girl, for he knew that his life would soon come to an end.

Now as Anna wandered farther down the dirt trail and even deeper into the woods, she found herself remembering happy memories, of not so long ago when everything was perfect. Memories that had happened between her and her father. Where she should have been happy, remembering them, she felt haunted by the memories, the images, the laughs.... But even for her young age, she was wise and she knew that her father wouldn’t be coming back this time.

(Queue Music)

She was haunted by the happy memories that now burned a hole in her chest. It was a foreign feeling, this pain that she felt, and it bothered her to feel as such.

All around her, she could see faint memories of her father, seeing his face so clearly that it was as if he were still alive, taking her on their regular picnics. But she knew that those days were long gone and that the darker, emptier days were now in front of her.

Despite the pain she felt in her chest and the happy memories that floated around her, time passed quickly. Anna soon found herself rounding a small bend and the abundance of trees grew lesser and lesser with every step she took. Within seconds, she was out of the brush and found herself standing on the border of the field of wild flowers. Cogburn Meadow.

Despite the fact that this was where she made most of her happy memories—which should’ve hurt the most—she actually felt at peace. She felt as if her father was really there with her and that he was alive. It was as if he never left her—in fact, he never would and never will, even in death. Perhaps his spirit was following her even as she walked.

Anna walked down the smaller, narrower, path towards the center of the field, where her and her father usually had their picnics. As she gained on the center of the meadow, however, she wasn’t paying any attention as to where she was going, and walked right into a tall, dark figure. She stumbled over backwards and fell onto her bottom.

She looked up to see an older man, with dark, greying hair and obsidian eyes. He wore a black trench coat—which matched the black suit and dress shirt he donned and gave him the appearance of a bat—and black orthopedics dress shoes. He was pale skinned and also had a hooked nose and hard, thin lips. He was tall and a bit wide, but also gangly, in a way.  

The Strange Man offered one of his gloved hands to her and she stared at it, unaware as to what she should do with it. “Mum said that I shouldn’t accept help from strangers…” Anna’s small voice said, trailing off towards the end.

“I suppose she would be right then, now wouldn’t she?” The Strange Man’s deep voice sounded happy, although his eyes and facial features showed no signs of emotion. “But, let us keep it a secret, just this once, shall we? What do you say?”

Anna smiled up at the Strange Man and gladly took his hand. He gently pulled her up to her feet and immediately released her hand as soon as she was stable. His powers couldn’t be held within his gloves for too long when he was in contact with a human being. Anything that his bare skin touched would start to either burn or rot in his grasp. It was a burden he well knew about and was willing to carry with him when he accepted ‘the job’.

“Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering what your name was,” Anna asked shyly, looking down at her dainty feet.

“I have many names, young one,” The Strange Man replied as he crouched down in front of Anna, remaining as still as a statue. The only thing that moved were his eyes, his lips, and his hair, as it blew gently in the autumn breeze. “Some call me The Reaper, some call me Death and others call me the Master of Oblivion, but you, young lady, may call me Amos.”

“And I am Anna Cogburn,” Anna held out her small hand to Amos, who shook it quickly. “But, Mr. Amos, don’t you have a last name?”

“No I do not, young Ms. Anna. Would you care to give me one?”

After thinking for only a few second, she replied, “How about…Mortimer… Amos Mortimer?” Anna said with a smile.

“I dare say that it fits me perfectly.” Amos said charmingly, though his eyes, nor his face, showed any signs of emotion.

“I am happy that you like it, Mr. Mortimer.”

“And I am glad that you were the young lady who came up with such a fantastic name.” Mortimer said happily. “But, now, I must part. I have some business to attend too, young one.”

Death rose to a proper standing position. He held out his large, gloved hand to Anna’s small one and she took it gladly. He quickly bestowed a kiss upon the top of the child’s hand, completely forgetting what his bare skin was capable of. He only realized what he had done when she let out a yelp of pain when his lips lingered too long on her exposed skin. As he let go of her small hand, he noticed that he had burned the shape of his lips onto the surface of her skin.

This scar, this burn, was to remain there for the remainder of Anna’s life.

Anna quietly watched as Amos walked off into the distance, disappearing into the woods.

Even now, she started questioning who he really was. Was he friend or foe?