Last of Her

Chapter 1: An Open Casket

Death is said to be final. You're life comes to end and you eventually become forgotten. Just another human on the face of the Earth, gone.

Religions around the world view the after-life in a certain way. You could burn for eternity in hell or become a Einharjar that will fight at Ragnarok. Sadly, none of that is true. Death is like floating through space. Nothingness surrounding you and there is nothing you can do about it; you can't yell or move, you just float through a great vast nothing.

How do I know what death is like? Well, I was killed. A stranger stabbed me to death, and yes, it was extremely painful. I tried to fight back but he was much stronger. I kind of new him; I walked by him everyday on my way to work. He looked like an average 30-year-old man. Except for his piercing blue eyes. There were so light it could make you uncomfortable if he stared at you for too long. That was color that I saw before I woke up in my body again.

I opened my eyes and saw a white ceiling and to my left, white cushioning covered a mahogany slab. I shifted and I felt the padding under me also. I sat up slowly, expecting to be light headed but I didn't feel any dizziness. I looked down at the clothes I was wearing; lotus flowers patterned the flowing dress. I turned my head up and I saw that I was in a church. Rows and rows of empty maroon pews lined the room. Flowers sat on either side of the thing I was sitting in. Then I realized that the thing I'm sitting in a coffin and I just came back from the dead. I let out a blood-curtailing scream.

"If I was mortal I would've had the same reaction. So scream as much as you want. Nobody is here except for the two of us." A man in a neat black suit stood in the main doorway of the room. He casually leaned against the door frame. His greasy black hair was slicked back and he had a smile on his angular face. The only thing unnatural about him was his solid black eyes. I let out another scream.

"Okay, now you're getting obnoxious. Be quiet." My mouth was still screaming, but no sound came out.

"Good, now you might be wondering why you you are sitting in a casket. That's because you were dead but I brought you back to life. You're welcome...aren't you going to say thank you? Oh, right, Speak."

"What the hell is going on?" I grip the out side of the casket.

"I was trying to explain it. Now where was I? Oh yeah, you're undead now. See, check you're pulse." I put my hand against my heart and felt nothing. I opened my mouth to scream again. "It's going to do you no good to scream again. Anyways, I was going to print you a pamphlet telling you about what its like to be undead but it sounded cheesy."

"So am I dead or not," I say softly.

The man pushed himself off the door frame and started walking down the center isle. "It's complicated, you can move around and do anything you could've usually done, but you don't have a pulse. You can't die naturally, but can be killed."

"Um, okay. You said you brought me back to life. Who are you?"

He stopped in front of the coffin. "I am the Grim Reaper, but you can just call me Grim." He stuck his hand out for me to shake, but I didn't accept it. "You aren't very nice, are you?"

"Look who's talking, you reap the souls of living."

"Maybe I shouldn't have brought you back to the world of the living." Grim raised his hand and his scythe appeared.

"No no no no no, I don't mean to be disrespectful. It's just...you're the Grim Reaper."

Grim flicked his scythe and it disappeared. "It's alright, I need you 'alive.'"

"For what?"

"The man who killed you, he was the one who was supposed the die in the confrontation you two had. Fate was changed so he could remain alive. So I brought you back for you to could kill him. Also, to make this whole thing better, I want you to kill him with the knife he used against you." He pulled out a knife from the inside of his dark jacket. The blade itself looked like it had been freshly polished. The handle was made out of smooth oak and the pommel was shaped into a wolf's head. He placed it into my hand.

"I've also put an enchantment on it," he said. "If you flick you're wrist, it will go away, and if you hold you're hand out and say vindicta, it will appear in you're hand. It means revenge in Latin." I flicked my hand and it vanished.

"Am I supposed to say thank you?"

"It would be rude if you didn't."

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome. I'll be leaving now." He turned around and headed for the exit. "I'll leave a apparition of you in the casket so no one gets suspicious. And, " he turned around and looked into my eyes, "I be in the cab outside to take you too you're new apartment when your ready." He walked out of my sight.