Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 10: Lord Death

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Enjoy, Reapers!! 

P.S- DIMBFF Facebook page is in the EXTERNAL LINK or on my profile! It's defintely an...interesting group. LOL.

P.P.S- Song on the right is TOTES Death.

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           It was shadowy in the abandoned church. A dimly lit, varnished, golden chandelier was the only source of light, dangling eerily, lifelessly, from the sky-scraping ceiling above. Most of the striking stained glass along the walls was either spray painted over with demonic symbolism, cracked, or covered with thick, dusty curtains which were partially closed.

            A comforting hush blanketed the air, and then, all at once, the unlit candles exploded to life along the walls, illuminating the church. The rhythmic words of the black cloaked vigilantes, circling in front of the altar, filled the ghostly silence. They swayed back and forth around a demonic symbol on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, chanting in Latin, hissing under their breath. As the mantra went on, they grew louder, beginning to twirl in a native dance.

            He was dressed in dark jeans and a black sweatshirt, kicked back at the front pew of the second floor balcony, overlooking the hooded men gathering the souls they had collected. They were his Reapers. The man had a gloved hand propping his head up. Thinking. Something he was recently doing way too much.

            With thinking, came hesitation. With hesitation, came humanity. And from humanity, came weakness... and really bad reruns of 16 and Pregnant.

            "Ahrimad."

            Suddenly, Death's cloak, which had been draped over the seat next to him, came to life, molding into the shape of a person, hovering over the ground. "You called to me, Master."

            "My mind is racing again." Death stared up at the stained glass dome, not saying anything for a while.

            "Perhaps you are in need of rest. Would you like me to help you sleep, Master--?"

            "No," Death snapped, gloved hand gripping his chair. He realized he had sounded too uneasy, and relaxed his shoulders. "I'm not tired, Ahrimad."

            "You've been having nightmares," Ahrimad guessed. "Have you not been taking the prescription the warlock gave you? It will help give you a dreamless sleep."

                 Death sighed, fingering the pendant at his neck that allowed him to sit in a church without burning to ashes. It also let him have a normal reflection in a mirror, and reprepelled anything holy so that he didn't burn himself severely. He now knew he had to wear it more around the girl as a precaution,  especially if she somehow learned more about him and his weaknesses. Faith Williams had come close to injuring him outside of the funhouse with her cross, but luckily, the pendant had been in his pocket. Nobody could have the upper hand over him. Nobody. Death wouldn't allow it.

                Not again.

             Years back, Death had bribed a witch into replicating the necklace his mother had made for him, for the rest of his Reapers, and any associates who wanted to meet with him. Evil beings couldn't enter a church, which put him and his followers at an advantage over every other evil thing in the human realm.