The Tale Of Death

HE WHO WISH UPON DEATH

"The wish that few have,

That wish that many say is a sign,

A sign of having been broken,

That wish is the Ode,

The Ode to the one who is Owed,

The Owed chooses his payers,

Those who cry and beg for the worst prayers,

Those who have been thrown upon misery,

Those who have been thrown upon their own blade.

These are the ones who feel the need for the Ode,

The wish,

For Death to take his sights upon them."

They say there is a thing called the Day Of The Dead, where that happens, I have no clue. But I do know that I envy them. The dead. Those who can die all have an advantage over me. They can find a release from life. An eternal rest. I envy you all. You who is most likely reading this and thinking I must be a psychopath, thinking "Immortality, I would love that" trust me, you would wish for death. Imagine this, you fall from the tallest building around your town, you fall and fall and ahead of you is a woman you love. She dies. Yet you get up and look around, you think to yourself. "How have I not died? How is it that I am alive and she is dead? Why me? Why not her?" 

The next few thoughts in your head. Those would be the full embodiment of Hell. The thoughts from those days forward would be worse. Imagine that you are found, they find out that you hit the ground and did not die after having hit the ground. The men who find you end up bringing you to a man who wishes to open up your body. Under the promise of safety that is. The man who wishes to cut you open starts the procedure and finds that his blade is broken every time he goes to cut you. He does not have a blade that can touch your body, because ever blade is cut cleanly around the blade with no issue to his own hands, nothing.

 The man decides he wishes to wake you up and when he does, he begs you to tell him what you were doing to his blades. Once you tell him, you do not understand he shows you a blade that was made up of a diamond blade. He believes you know more so he decides to try to punch you, and his arm is broken immediately. The man screams in pain and his guards come in and shoot at you, they all have been trained to have nearly perfect aim and yet, you are not hit at all, and neither is the man who wished to cut you open. You think of using that and shoving him at the men, but something inside you will not let you attempt your revenge. This has been just a bit of my life since I found my "ability." These have just been the very basic beginnings, and with this, it has gotten worse over the years. I have been shot at point-blank, I have killed without meaning to, and I have yet to find a single thing that can fully save me from myself, and life itself. The way that the people around me had been punished made me wish to get away, so I did. I am no longer around humans at all, I stay in a city that has been abandoned, in a world that needs no one, and has no one. This was how it had been, until about, I would say, five minutes ago. There was a man who had come to my town, had looked at me and watched me for twenty-three seconds before I finally asked what he was doing. He calmly stated, "You are not a Russian, and you are still in Chernobyl. So why, and how have you not died from radiation poisoning?" I calmly looked at the man, and he seemed to be shocked, I have been there for a very long time and yet I had not even the slightest bit of a burn, no signs, nothing. When I stood up I looked at him and calmly asked him, "How come there is a man who has come to the same place as me? One who has come to see the place of Chernobyl maybe? No, you are not a tourist, maybe you are someone who has been told to come and see the place in search of the radiation that has been long, long gone for thirteen years. You need not look up at the sky to see that the air is clear here, and need not look to the ground for signs of radioactive decay, there is life here, so deal and leave." "You must be the man I was hired to find. Good" he said this, calmer than death, and yet somehow he had some sort of laughter in his voice. This alone should have been disturbing. So why was it that he made me laugh? I exclaimed in a voice that sounded like thunderous laughter, "You honestly came in search of a man without time? You must be a fool to search for a man who has been a statue for thirty-seven years!" He calmly looked at me, and his face was calm. "I came in search of the man who has immortality, the man who wishes upon Death himself." I laughed more and quizzically at him. "Do you not mean the man who wishes Death upon himself?" He calmly looks at me, and he laughed. "Do not try me, you know you wish upon Death himself" as he said this I suddenly realized something. His eyes were dead. He didn't seem to care about anything at all, and he was not smiling, he was simply showing his teeth. While most would have been scared, I wasn't, I simply looked at him, smiled, and calmly inquired, "Your name sir?"

He calmly bowed deeply, saying his name in a way that was amazingly calm and chilling. "Death."