I am Death

Clara

There are no words to describe how Death got from where ever he happened to have been before Clara, to being with Clara. He was just there, sitting next to her as though he had always been sitting there and Clara had been too blind to notice him.

So death is a guy, she thought, and he doesn't dress in black or  hold a staff.

Death turned his head and locked eyes with her and despite the weight of his eyes, Clara did not look away. They watched each other for a moment, and the Death spoke.

"You're early," he said. And his voice was low and old.

Though it was nothing compared to his eyes. That heavy weight held by billions of infinities, whilst remaining ageless. He knew her, just by looking at her. She held the same eyes as millions of others had before her - though Death saw all their eyes as the same.

Death was wearing a checked shirt and jeans, though his feet were bare; and as Clara looked him over, she remembered where she was, why he was here.

"Aren't you going to say something?" she asked him, quite rudely actually.

"Is there something you want me to say?" he responded. "If so, I am not good at comfort."

"I don't know, some encouragement or try to stop me!"

"Each of those attempts would be futile and pointless," he responded, and looked down at the river below them. "I stopped being that naïve aeons ago."

"Does life mean nothing to you?" It was a stupid things to ask, and hypocritical, but she just had presumed that Death would be more empathic or at least less empty  than this.

Death chuckled humourlessly.

"That is the funniest question I have had the pleasure of being asked."

"Really?" Death shot her a look like thunder.

"No."

Silence fell between them, and Death waited patiently for whatever he expected her to do. He was still glaring intensely at the rushing water beneath them, and Clara wondered how many times he'd been there before.

A long while passed between them, and Clara was still sitting on the bridge edge. Spray from the water had half-soaked her jeans, but Death remained perfectly dry. He seemed to have a fascination with everything, and studied every element for extraordinarily long pieces of time; whether it be the water or the wind through the trees or even the empty sky, he would be transfixed by it in a completely unexceptional way.

She closed her eyes, and again, felt the urge slip away. It was slower this time, but it was still going away. She should have felt relief or sadness, but the swell of numbness overtook her and she was left feeling completely alone, with death by her side.

He seemed to know that he was no longer needed, and reached out a hand - a scarily cold hand - and placed it on her shoulder. He smiled as though he had seen it all before, and then Death was gone,

He didn't disappear, he was gone as though he never even been there at all.

So, first chapter... What'd y'all think?

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