It happened so fast. Isn't that how all of those stories start? Nothing but a flash of light, screams of agony, and suffering from the living while the dead watch in their own sobbing pain unable to move on for a few days until they meet a reaper. She was standing there, alone in her dormitory; her bedroom freezing cold as she stared at her own body. It wasn't that she died peacefully in her sleep; the blood dripping off the bed was indication of suicide, as well as the straight edge from her tool box. It wasn't a simple slit of the wrist either, but the horrid slashing of the throat that let her spirit, her soul, her life out of its mortal coil. It was regret she felt in what would be her stomach, grossly sobbing and screaming in the isolation of the chilled room. It wasn't just any reaper that came for this sad soul, but the greatest reaper himself, Death. The great fourth horseman himself was here to lead this pitiful woman out of existence and into either heaven, or hell.
"Why the throat?" he asked, chilled as ever as she huffed, her eyes puffed out from the tears she could not produce before turning to look at him. "I had no voice. I could not speak to save my life. I was suffocated under the oppression of my family, society, and now..." She shuttered and gave a rough inhale as death grabbed her shoulder. "You have to leave, you know better than anyone else why." She nodded and gave another body shaking inhale and held back the non-existing tears as she looked back at Death. "D-Do you just look like this because of my obsession from one show and you are just trying to comfort me or are you...?" Death chuckled and nodded. "The more familiar you are to a certain image is what I will look like. Since you have seen me in Supernatural this is how I appear to you, but that is your choice." She nodded and was still taking those harsh breaths that would shake anybody right through the core.
"You were so young, but so powerful. There were many things you could have done if you kept on living." She laughed in a bit of hysteria. "It doesn't matter now does it? I'm here, getting taken away by the head honcho himself and nothing but trouble for my family." She sighed as she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying so hard to turn her life around, but... She closed her eyes and started to cry again, sniffling and panting out of her mouth. "I-I wish I could undo it... I really wish I could..." Death gave a sad chuckle. "That's what they all say, but I have never seen someone cry over their own dead body like you have." she shook her head no and gave a nice deep breath. "I-I was crying for those who loved me. I could care less about my body gushing blood on the mattress and dripping on the floor, or the fact that my body might not be found for days." Her door to her own bedroom, the one she isolated herself into and made into her temporary tomb was sealed until someone went to search for her.
"I wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid to hurt others." she sniffled and looked back at Death. He nodded, looking solemn as he walked over to her and sat beside her. "You know you'll probably go to heaven." She chuckled and huffed through her mouth. "But suicide is a sin..." She looked back at him and huffed, licking her lips to catch trailing tears rolling down her face. "You didn't commit suicide, you died from depression and that's a serious problem." She laughed and moved her sight from Death's eyes. "Then tell Pestilence to stop that disease and leave us be..." "Then many reapers would be out of a job. This is important work for us." she nodded and sighed, looking out her window to see Main Street lit dimly from the street lights and traffic. She let the blind fall as she huffed and nodded back to death. "Take me away. I'm ready to go somewhere worth my time."
"Don't want to say goodbye to anyone?" She shook her head like an upset child. She huffed and looked back at Death. "It would only hurt me more knowing that I failed even more. I'd rather be left with my assumptions that see their face finding out about my death." she huffed and teared up, hugging herself. "And my dad was going to be up here this weekend. A-and..." she sniffled and started to sob. "H-He's going to be the first to know and I can't..." She shook her head no as Death nodded, an arm around her shoulder to pull her into a hug as she cried one final time in her tomb; the scene of her own crime. "It'll be alright. They'll get on." She shook her head no and huffed, mumbling to herself into his shirt. "I was the weakest and could not survive in this world." she huffed, jerking her head to glare at Death as she huffed through her mouth once more. "What parent wants to live while they bury or burn their own child?!" She shouted at him as she walked her out of her dormitory.
"No one. I know that, but things happen unexpectedly. I never expected you to die like this," his admission came out as he wiped those tears away with a handkerchief. "H-how was I supposed to go?" Death shrugged his shoulders. "We really don't usually know until a week or a day before it happens." He stared back at her and gave a weak smile. She sighed and sniffled once more. "I feel bad." "Well you are dead, so there's a lot weighing on your spirit as well as remorse." He stared at her and smiled. "How about we go out for pizza?" she perked her eyes back at him. "I can't quite eat..." "I know, but I enjoy the company more than anything." he nodded and lead the way. The young lady following after him as she climbed into the passenger side of his white 1959 Cadillac Hardtop Coupe Model 6237. She closed her eyes and rested her head at the side of the door.
"We're going to Chicago, right?" she asked him as he chuckled, starting his horse up. "That's right." he looked over at her as she seemed to fall asleep. "Death?" She asked, still seeming to want to sleep. "Yes?" He responded, looking back at her as he started to drive. "You have a very beautiful horse." "Anything else?" he chuckled at her comment as her eyes opened watching the street casually drive by like she watched while alive. “Have you heard of Blue Oyster Cult?" Another chuckle as he turned on his radio, turning the knobs until he found a station playing "The Reaper" by that exact same band. She gave a small laugh with a matching smile, closing her eyes as a single tear traveled over the bridge of her nose. "Am I really dead? This feels so surreal to me." "Only if you can't accept reality for what it is." She sighed, the cool night air blowing in her ears and through her hair.
"Thank you."
"You are welcome."
