The room was dim, lit by a single dull light bulb. Every step i took, a creak brought me closer to my death. I creeped to the other side of the room, trying not to make a noise. I failed. Crickets were playing their songs outside, perhaps songs of the dead. They knew. They sensed that death was upon me, looking me through my eyes, piercing my soul. A grandfather clock stood in the corner, swinging its pendelum, hypnotizing. Ticks keeping the beat of time steady. I touched the door handle, turned it slightly. A sound seemed to take every motion I made.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
I swung open the door. Nothing. An ominous hallway stood before me, almost daring me. Daring me to take a step into death himself. I did just that. No creaks. Footsteps. Mine. Slowly, every tick a step. The tick tick ticking ceased. Perhaps time has stopped. Perhaps I have already passed. Perhaps God has taken mercy.
Closer
Closer
Closer
Tick. Tick. Tick. Time resumed. I am alive. The Lord has not taken me. I resume my journey towards the deep dark. Step by step, tick by tick, I venture to the other side of this hell. Tick step, tick step. One half.
Tick step
Tick step
Tick step
Tick step
One quarter.
A light river of grey fog filled the hallway. Has Death, made his mark, taking me to his lair in glorious Hell? I wait, ticks passing, crickets orchestrating their song. The fog thickened, taking on a more potent color of grey. I continue to make my way to the other side, careful not to make a single sound. The fog thickened once more, now taking on a red hue of blood. Comfort took me, seizing my body. I felt at ease, I felt as if I floated above the clouds, above the heavens. Pain. Pain filled me. A sword. Through my back. Beautiful red blood. Oh how I love that special color of red. I simply adored it. Someone-no. Something ripped away my back, with a sound of Velcro being removed slowly, leaving it nothing but a pink layer of tissue. A crack. My spine. Torn out of its place. A scream filled the room. Perhaps it was mine. I do not know. I do not remember. I am now but a servant of the Hand of Death. Thanatos. I am now but a collector of souls. I want nothing more. Simply your soul. Is that too much to ask for? Perhaps it is. I shall not know, as that is my only purpose. My life has ended. My afterlife begins. A sweetly crafted afterlife blooming with blood.
