I Am Death

Entry 20

I think I'm almost there. I'm pretty sure at least.

Her scent, well my scent, is stronger here. If that wasn't a sign enough the heaping pile of hybrids I'm leaning against should be.

I should probably move actually. The dead bodies were... emptying themselves.

Something I'd learned on this murderous journey is that hybrids or witches have a horrid liking for curries, soups and ramen noodles.

Maybe because they can brew it in their weird ass cauldrons. Who knows but it gives them the major runs. Evacuate the under area as soon as possible.

Ok just give me a minute I'm gonna move over the hill.

Ok yeah. Tons of shit.

Anyway, where was I?

Deaths scent. My scent.

My best guess is that she's scraped off all the blood by now, or maybe they came off in the river? There was a bridge a little further up stream from where I tracked her so she probably just jumped straight in.

Death has no survival instinct in the slightest.

But I'm surprised my scent has lingered so long. It's like I'm ingrained into her now. Like I'm a part of her.

Can't say I'm not impressed.

I care too much for the girl. I really do.

Heart of ice. Skin of porcelain. And mind of an acid tab. All of it.

I don't fucking know. All I know is I want her back.

I'm kind of worried you know. I shouldn't be...

I mean it's Death.

But I have this nagging feeling that somethings not quite right, like that itch you sometimes get on the arch of your foot but you can't reach it because of your shoes.

It's driving me insane.

The thing is I'm pretty sure she's still in there.

Death doesn't care for pleasantries. She kills first, asks questions later. I can't imagine her having tea with these all powerful wizards her imaginary friend insists she kills.

What's his bloody name? Dan?

I can't be asked to look in the book. 

So maybe she's trapped is what I'm getting at. And if she's trapped there ain't much I can do.

I'm gonna go anyway. I'm just saying this is probably my last entry.

Either death by wizard or death by Death.

All paths lead to death unless I run my arse in the other direction.

But I'm pretty sure it's too late for that.

Let me give this a proper sign off.

Name:
Swift Anderson

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