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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦: 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ( 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘣 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 )
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡
THEIR EYES ARE FRIGHTENED. There is no denying that the brothers of Winchester are intimidated and nervous of their impending death. My sudden appearance out of the darkness may add to the stale scent of fear that lingers, tainting the formerly sweet scent of happiness and life. They are but bacteria to me, and yet I cannot help but admire them.
My reflection catches my attention. Their eyes hold the very image I see every time someone dies. The darkness is shrouding me in a way that makes my black coat seem endless and my black slacks and dress shoes seem non-existent. My right hand is resting on my gilded walking stick and the faint light emanating from the dull lamp is glinting off my ring, making the edges seem sharp and deadly. My left is hidden in the folds of my coat.
My dark eyes meet the eldest's and his arrogance is staring back at me. "You did not keep your promise to me, Dean. I did warn you that there would be consequences, did I not?"
The green eyes burn with anger. "We didn't need to go through with the stupid plan. We figured it out."
"There is no two ways about it, Dean Winchester. I told you that your brother had to jump into the fiery pits; that he is the only one who can fully defeat Lucifer. You did not heed my advice."
"I am not sending my brother to hell!"
"Unfortunately, that is not your decision. This was meant to play out as it was written."
The younger Winchester looks paranoid - and for a good reason. He knows what has to happen, and yet he is struggling to come to terms with it. A small smirk graces my pale lips, and the sharp features of my mutually pale face soften a tiny bit. A sense of grim satisfaction shoots through my frail looking vessel. At least the smart one knows what is coming for his brother and himself. He knows that there's no escaping the swiftness of the scythe removing their heads.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Screw Fate. Screw Destiny. Screw you."
"Don't roll you eyes, Dean. It's impolite."
"Are you being serious?"
"No. I'm being incredibly sarcastic."
"Nice. A sarcastic Death. Never heard of that one before."
"Dean," Sam chastises.
"It's quite alright, Sam." My voice has an undercurrent that says it's anything except that. "If those are the words your brother chooses for his last, then so be it. There has been worse said."
The material of my coat scratches against my wrinkled skin as I withdraw it from its place of unusual warmth. I transfer my walking stick to my left hand and watch the brothers of Winchester's fear turn into complete and seemingly unimaginable horror. My walking stick almost triples in height, only standing but a foot above my own considerable height. At the end, it curves into a razor sharp blade almost three feet in length. The razor sharp edge catches the faint light, and the image in the eyes of the youngest Winchester shows the unavoidable fate ahead.
"Dean Winchester, your time has come."
My seemingly frail hands grip the wooden staff of my scythe and my arms move forward in a well-practised movement. Thunk. I jerk the scythe back and the eldest Winchester's body topples to the ground. Much like a sack of potatoes. I feel no sympathy for the younger Winchester with tears running like rivers down his face, but I do feel a quite unorthodox emotion. I know the younger Winchester did nothing against myself, and that he had no idea of the deal his brother and I made to put the second oldest Archangel in existence back into the Cage - the rightful place for the child throwing a tantrum.
I rest my scythe against my shoulder, looking at the broken Winchester in front of me. "Let me make you a deal, Sam."
That catches his attention. "What kind of deal?"
"You do not wish to die. That much is true, and quite clear to see. Therefore, I am prepared to give you a one chance offer to become a Reaper and work for me - and with your friend, Tessa. You may ask for one thing else, but, know this, Samuel Winchester, I will not revive your brother."
Minutes pass by before I speak again.
"It's now or never, Sam."
His red-rimmed eyes meet my knowing ones. "I accept your offer. You're right. I don't want to die, but I don't want to stay here with the memories of my brother haunting me."
"What else do you ask of me?"
His eyes seem to turn sadder. "To keep my younger brother alive. I don't wish for him to die in this business, and I know he doesn't want that either. Adam would want to die peacefully of old age when he is ready to go. I'll be there for him."
"Very well, Sam. Come with me."
The giant male walks over to me and the darkness shrouds us willingly, accepting its new friend. The soul of the eldest Winchester is nowhere to be seen. Good. Tessa must have dealt with the arrogant bacteria-like human. I, myself, would have personally delivered him to Crowley to keep in Hell for an eternity, but Tessa would have taken the blundering ape to Heaven with his mother, father and lost friends.
Do not mistake my generosity for kindness or acceptance. I always have an ulterior motive.
