Black Beauty

1

I apologize for any misspellings I am currently having to use my phone to write the stories, thank you all for who will read this I really enjoyed writing this piece.

One rainy night, traveling down a back road, all is well. Until something went terribly wrong. The tire twisted, Jonathan skid, hit a curb then, hit a tree. As Jonathan stoop up and brushed himself off, he heard a tongue click and a sly voice.
"Almost," a women's ice cold, voice whispered. Startled, Jonathan's back straightened immediately. He looked around frantically, his motorcycle gone. His ear drums rang to the sound of a sickening laugh coming from behind him. He spun around coming face to face with a tiny, porcelain skinned beauty. Her long, curly, black hair fell like a funeral veil around her face, her deep, black eyes stared right through him as if memorizing his soul. As the wind blew, he saw the same skull emblem that's on his motorcycle, seared into her fair forehead.
"W-who are you?" Jonathan's voice quivered, terror-stricken.
"Call me what you wish, but what am I? Why, I am your death," a sinister growl ripped from deaths throat, "as you now know, we shall meet again. Hopefully only a few more times." With that she was gone. After looking for his bike in the mud, Jonathan found it. It was unrideable. He called a friend and hitched a ride. As he sat his thoughts took over, like how the next encounter would play out.
Months passed without incident, but with each passing day the pit in Jonathan's stomach grew. Every turn he makes, he prepares himself. On a doomful, may day, Jonathan was headed to the bank on his trusty motorcycle. Let's just say, he didn't make it far. Just as he made it to an open field, an SUV swerved, hit him, and sent him flying about two hundred feet. His leg gushed with blood, muscle hanging out. He was dazed through the whole ordeal, and never became hysterical. As Jonathan lay in the field, staring at the bright, mid-day sun, he heard a soft chuckle.
"I think I'm starting to rejoice in watching you suffer, honey," her velvety voice sent tremors down Jonathan's spine. She glided over to him, hips swaying, eyes gleaming maliciously.
"Why not kill me if you're my death?" Jonathan shuddered, eyes polished with tears, face shiny with sweat. The graceful, other-worldly woman bent over and grabbed his chin.
"Like I've informed you," her voice thundered, her touch burning his skin "I enjoy watching your tears, your wails, and your afflictions. All of which bring me immense gratification." Death's spider like fingers drew back from his face, leaving a trail of what felt like fire. A wheeze of pain escaped Jonathan's bloody lips as he contorted with sickness. A tiny snicker left from deep in death's chest. Her laugh sounded like a plagued, morbid lullaby. Soon Jonathan heard sirens, and she was gone as fast as she came.
Fast forward once more to a freezing, teeth chattering December night, Jonathan was working on his motorcycle. His hand was deep within the interior when the bike slipped off the lift and his hand became interlaced between the sprocket and the chain. As he realized he was stuck, dread set in. Jonathan knew his hand was deteriorated beyond recognition. His body filled with dismay as he felt a faint breath on the back of his neck. His hair stood up, and his pupils shrunk.
"Please, let this be the end," Jonathan whimpered to Death. He knew he could no longer stand this pain. Death strode to stand in front of Jonathan, and kissed his cheek.
"Your wish shall be full filled," her sweet, icy voice echoed in his ears as she forced her hand into his chest, ripping up and tearing his still beating heart out. As Jonathan lay dying, his eyes meant that of his Black Beauty, and became lifeless.