O Death

2 - Silence.

I think a lot. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. Just to sit in some city, somewhere, or in the middle of nowhere, it doesn’t particularly matter. I suppose I feel, too. A little, at least. Not to the extent that you do, but perhaps even a tenth, would be enough to qualify as feeling. Sadness, happiness, pain... no, I don’t experience emotions. That is part of my design. But I can enjoy myself, I can wonder and be curious, and I do, at times, have an inkling of a feeling that some would call sorrow.

It’s curious, really. The emptiness.

But back to thinking. Just last week, for you at least, Time doesn’t have much of a meaning for me... we do occasionally sit down and chat. When it’s convenient for him. Just last week, I was sitting, thinking, on a park bench in a little park, in New York. So exhilarating to sit there and watch the people go by, watch their faces. Some I’ll see the next day, some that night, some for not another 80 years, but I’ll meet them all eventually. That scares some people... but I swear I’m not unpleasant to meet. Unless of course I choose to be. I’m a very fair fellow, I assure you. Justice is one of the things I have studied thoroughly and take great pride in pursuing.

On a park bench, sitting alone, in the centre of millions. I usually choose not to be seen, but I could change that if I wanted. Occasionally I go for a stroll and allow people to see me. Doesn’t cause much of a hubbub, to be honest. I’m just a man in a suit, after all. Reaching into my pocket as I sat on that park bench, I retrieved a small black book. Tattered around its leather edges, pages faded with Time, (the blaggard likes to mess with my things), and stained slightly from a hot chocolate I had once. The List. One of the most powerful items on Earth. It’s not what you might think. One name appears on the page I open to, whenever it is time for that individuals End. The name that appeared on the page as I sat in New York was written in messy, large letters, the scrawl of a child's hand. Elizabeth Brown.

Another moment and I stood in North Montana, howling wind and some of the most bitterly cold air the state had ever seen buffeting me. Or, I suppose it would have been cold to you. The wind did not stir my coat, or ruffle a hair on my head. Nearly knee deep in snow, I walked forward, heavy snowflakes falling, somehow not one landing on me. Interesting, you might say. To my right, the small noises of crying caught my attention, and I walked easily through the snow, until I located the small form of the source of the noises. Elizabeth Brown, 7 years old. Still alive. It wasn’t her fault her name was on the List... but I could not change the fact that it was. I walked over, crouched underneath the small pine tree she had found, taking a seat in the snow beside her, before allowing her to see me. Children react much more calmly than adults. The line between reality and fantasy is still blurred to them.

“Who... who are y-you?” She whimpered, blue eyes flooded with tears that froze in tracks down her cheeks. I smiled softly down at her, my voice gentle as I replied. “You can call me Azzy.”

I had long puzzled over my name, considering “Who are you” was such a common question. I hadn’t been given one, exactly. But after my own amount of reading, I chose one of the simpler names that you had given me. The full thing? A bit biblical, but I’m not complaining. Azrael. Not too long, easy to remember. And Azzy makes a child feel at least a little less afraid. I don’t like scaring people when I can help it, especially the little ones. Elizabeth had cracked a little smile, amid her chattering teeth.

“Th-that’s a s-silly name.” She managed to stammer out, and I smiled. “It is a little silly, isn’t it? Silly me.”

Elizabeth Brown was going to freeze to death. Out of all the ways to End... freezing isn’t the worst. I try to make the children’s gentle. There was cold, yes. But hypothermia soon brings a false sense of heat, and then simple sleep. The little ones were too young to know that I brought the End. And I didn’t mind giving them some company before we had to go. “I-I.... I w-wanna s-see my m-mommy.” Her little voice shook as she spoke, and I gently laid my arm across her shoulders to offer some semblance of comfort. “You will, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll sit with you until you do, okay?” I was not lying. I don’t lie. Eventually, I would visit Mrs. Brown, as well. She would see her again. The little girl nodded vigorously and leaned into my side, her tiny body having stopped shivering. It was slowly dying. No pain, anymore.

Her breathing was slowing, and she yawned, curling more into me. It’s always puzzled me why you love physical contact so much. I see people, all the time.. they hold hands, hold each other in their arms, always touching. Perhaps you need it, like you need oxygen? But no... I come for you, without oxygen. I don’t come for you when you’re without touch.

“O-kayyyy...” Elizabeth had slurred, her eyes hooding slightly. Sleep was calling to the child, and my voice was gentle as I spoke. “Close your eyes, Elizabeth. It’s alright...” I soothed, the odd little tug in my chest making its presence known, when she yawned again, her eyes closing, her form still. The tug was strange. It happened occasionally, more often than not when I wondered why exactly someone’s name had been on the List. So young... One slow heartbeat, a little heart struggling to fight me, sputtering in a valiant of a struggle as a child could offer, and then silence. No more.

“Azzy?” The little girl’s voice was confused, her head tilted as her soul stood looking at me, her body at my side. Her cheeks were rosy, no longer blue with cold, and the snow did not settle on her hair, nor did the wind whip her coat.  “It’s alright, my dear. Come now, do you want me to show you something?” I offered, standing up. She smiled, her predicament already forgotten, and I found myself smiling also. Children were so trusting, so willing to always be happy. The tug happened again, and I suppose, if I wasn’t me, I would call it pain. Picking the little girl up and carrying her easily, I walked away from the tree, Elizabeth chattering curiously in my ear. “Whatcha gonna show me, Azzy? I wanna see!!”

I smiled softly, walking through the snow, before pointing ahead of me. “That, Elizabeth. Do you see?”

Before me stood a door. Plain wood and white, rather old fashioned, little cracks in the paint due to Time. (I told you. He messes with my things.) She blinked, and I gently set her down, before taking her hand and walking over to the door. “Do.. I gotta go in?” She questioned, a strain of fear present in her voice. Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, I sighed gently. “Yes, love. You have to go in. And once you do... you get to go on an adventure. A grand adventure.” I wasn’t lying. I never lie.

Truthfully... I have never been through that door. It’s my job to bring you too it, but once we’re there... I say goodbye, as I did with Elizabeth Brown. Such a bright young girl... she would have kept her cheery attitude had she grown up. I’m sure of it.

“An adventure?! Okay!! Bye Azzy!” She called gleefully, bounding through the snow to the door, reaching up on tiptoes to grasp the handle, before stopping suddenly and looking over her shoulder at me. “Is the adventure gonna be long? Mommy said I can’t be by myself too long outside.” There is was again. The tug, this time rather forceful. An echo of a human emotion that goes by sorrow. “Not too long, honey... don’t worry. You have fun, now.” I smiled, and she grinned before pulling the door open and stepping inside, the latch clicking softly as it closed behind her. And the door was gone.

I stood there for a moment, quietly, thinking. The sounds of the search party were faint in the distance, warped with the howling of the wind. Some of the screams were not the wind.

Today’s story ends here, dear reader. Maybe you’ll find me on a park bench someday. A man sitting alone, with a little black book. Until then, reader mine.