The Followings of a Red Beret

The Raven's Greeting

Good evening. No, that's not quite right, let me start over. Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening wherever you, the reader, may be. I am the porter. 

Do not confuse me with damnation. I am not the personification of hell. My presence doesn't kill, I am not deadly per say, I am merely a collector. Although if you're a sinner, you may say otherwise. My form varies from person to person. Your cultures have a curious way of seeing me. Somehow I'm the hooded figure, the one who carries the scythe, the one cloaked in black, but most often the skull. That is quite egoistic, have I ever claimed to be human like? However, I will always, and forever be a merchant of sorts. My trade is with the souls.

So, reader, have you guessed who I am?

I am Death.

Being eternal is dull. It is an endless pattern that continues on and on. When you are immortal everything repeats. There is no surprise, or fear. Simply the dullness you feel when you're eternal. Thus, dear reader, be glad you are mortal. You can cherish, you can feel. When you are immortal there is naught. Forever is no reward. It is a punishment. A measure similar to the likeness of Death. See what I did there? Now pay attention. 

My daily life is rhythmic, my task is as constant as the drifting waves. Being carried from one shore, and only to break apart on the next. After one soul goes, there will be another to replace it. In my ceaseless life, hah, I must roam the earth to collect the souls of those who have passed on. In this monotonous life there is nothing else for me to expect. Everything is so very predictable. Do you catch my drift? Heh. I, my dearest reader, am bored. Amuse me. You've heard me. Amuse me and it will be pleasant, if not, lets keep it at that. Now, entertain me! 

Oh? Are you so lost that you can't even accomplish that? Fine, that expression on your useless face is enough. Allow me to entertain you. I'm bored, you see. Very bored. It has been that way for eternity. Perhaps you will provide some relief.

I remember there was only one instance when I wasn't bored. That was when I met Miss Elise. She wouldn't tell me her whole name. Maybe she forgot her name. Maybe she does not want to say. It was not my business to pry. When I met her, tears had already trickled by down her face. It wasn't an odd sight. It was usual for a soul to be saddened by death. Even when humans take it upon themselves, there is always that last trickle of hope, that last plea - "I want to live." It's amusing to watch them the last seconds before death. They can conjure up the most uncanny expressions before dying. 

I slowly made my way toward her. The scrawny little girl was lying on a patch of snow, her head looking up into the clouds. She seemed relieved that her ordeal was over. When I came into view, she yelped slightly. It was strange, watching her straighten herself up and look me in the eye. Miss Elise, as most were, was unsettled by my appearance, but eventually got used to it. As I prepared to swing my scythe, the fragile child pops one of the most intriguing of questions "Can I go somewhere other than Heaven or Hell?"

Yes, humans were curious creatures indeed.

"Somewhere else?" I inquire of her.

"Is there?" she questions back. 

"Why yes, little girl, however that comes at a price." I smirk, repositioning my scythe, "I won't take your soul. But as a consequence you will become a part of the shadows, a mere memory for eternity. It's only fair that way is it not? Now decide, are you certain this what you choose?"

She stares back at me, seeming to be considering the reality of my offer, "Yes," she replies eventually. "but... if that happens, will you be my friend?"

"Hmm... You're an interesting child, I suppose I will." I decide on a whim, slicing my scythe through her. She blinks at me in surprise. The thing swipes through her cleanly, though does nothing to alter her form. I extend my ghostly pale hand to her.

"Come with me, this world is unkind to the likes of us."

She's taken aback but then smiles and follows me. The girl seems content that, at last, she had found a friend.

I made a promise to her that day, a vow to be her friend. However, how can Death be anyone's friend? The little girl was a strange one. From that day hence, she was all rainbows and sunshines, yes I'm quite capable of the cliché. Who would have thought that the blonde child with the red beret was capable of crying? Yet she was crying on the day of her death. I could be very cliché, and lie to you, reader- claim that I was a kindred friend, who was indulged deeply in His friend's affairs simply out of worry. No, Death wasn't sympathetic, He wasn't warm and fluffy. I can't have this Elise destroy the stereotype that easily. I most certainly wasn't some girl's big fluffy doll. Not yet at least. 

As I said before, the immortal life is pure boredom. It was merely for entertainment that I asked Elise her story. Human emotions had to come from somewhere. They always have stories that they wanted to tell, so why not her? 

Miss Elise simply stared at me when I at last inquired.

"What happened to me in the past?" She asks clutching her red beret. Was there something special about it? "Wasn't I always with you, Elek?" smiling sweetly. (Elek was a name she insisted on calling me.) It seemed that Miss Elise had forgotten; that was the end of any further interrogations.

However, life, ha ha ha, was simply too boring to be bearable. So naturally, reader, I went on in search of Elise's story. I snatched her red beret before leaving, (of course, the little girl followed) anyone who knew her should be able to recognize it, Miss Elise always had it. The story I was looking for would be amusing. It will provide a better remedy for life's, ha, dullness than you will, reader. 

The following is the gathering of the life and death, hehe, of Elise DuCorbeau.