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

Chapter 22: Gluttony

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            "I am Death."

            "Excuse me?"

            "I am Death."

            "Oh... I'M SO SORRY, SIR!" The man behind the cash register with a goofy pizza hat spoke loud and slow, emphasizing his words. "IT'S REALLY. NOT THAT OBVIOUS! WOULD YOU. LIKE A. MENU? DO YOU LIKE PASTA?" He proceeded to pick up a menu and exaggeratedly point out options.

            "I said, I'm Death. Not, I'm deaf, you imbecile!"

            The cashier flipped a strand of long blonde hair out of his eye. "Huh?"

            "But apparently you can't hear," Death scoffed. "I don't understand how some people have no idea who I am. I've made it pretty obvious. I'm wearing a cloak and holding a damn scythe. I'm not playing around."

            "It's Halloween in like, less than five days, bro. I thought it was like, a cheap costume..."

            "Where'd you get those black combat boots, the dollar store?"

            After staring at the idiot blankly for the longest time, the Grim Reaper slapped the menu away from the idiot cashier. The only reason he wasn't holding up an illusion in the pizzeria was because he was far too weak to hold one up (and too pissed off to give a flying fuck).

            Speaking of flying, Death was still grounded. So he had to ride his motorcycle all the way to the pizzeria. He had to actually apply effort now to go somewhere.

            Even after eating a outsized amount of souls, his head was still throbbing and his stomach spasms with hunger. His body was shutting down from lack of human food. So right after Death had left the warlock's body and returned to his own, he rushed to nearest pizzeria. Faith Williams-- damn that bitch to deepest pit hell-- had tired him out earlier in the evening.

            And not in a pleasurable way.

            Death couldn't physically break through the ward, or the invisible magical wall, that engulfed the warlock's store. Instead, he had to mentally break through the ward, which took some time and a hell of a lot of concentration. Ace's mind had been the most vulnerable at the time, but Death didn't know why until he saw what had been happening in the store for himself, possessing Ace's body.

            Faith Williams had asked the warlock for a reading. A detailed reading, by how susceptible the warlock had been to Death. And that meant only one thing: she had struck a deal with the bastard. When Death had finally managed to possess Ace, he could literally smell the stench of magic in the air, and forget how furious he had gotten once he saw the pendant wrapped around Faith's neck.

            His mother's pendant.

            The pendant that Ace had stolen from Death.

            Oh, was Death mad. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this enraged. If he had a consistent heart beat, his blood pressure would have been through the roof. And ironically, the source of his anger went by the name Faith. Heaven had a really sick sense of humor sometimes, choosing a human named Faith to have a soul that was--almost nauseatingly-- entirely pure and white.