Death's Apprentice

12

My fingers tapped against the hard granite countertop as my legs dangled in the air. My gaze trained on Death, who hummed softly as he stirred instant coffee into his mug. The same mug hit the floor and shattered when he turned, saw me, and dropped it.

"Kid," he said, staring at the ceramic shards and puddle of steaming coffee. "You are going to end up giving me a heart attack."

"The only issue is you don't have a heart." I slid from the counter, slipped past him, and opened the fridge. Old containers that once held butter and Cool-Whip lined the shelves, all filled with leftovers Death made long before I joined him.

"I'm soulless, not heartless." With a wave of his hand the cup reformed and the coffee evaporated. He poured himself another cup and took a careful sip. "The noodles should still be good, I made them last century."

"Don't you have any pizza?" I said, bending to look at the lower shelves.

"Technically, I do. Would you consider it pizza? Probably not. Don't stand up." Death reached over my head into the deep fog swirling in the back of the fridge. He pulled out a ceramic plate. "Here you go."

I took it from him. "It doesn't look too- Can I quit?" I asked while staring at the pizza.

"No, and why?"

"Because I cannot work for someone who thinks eating pineapple and broccoli on pizza is okay." I shoved the monstrosity he called pizza into his hands. He nearly dropped the plate, but saved it at the last second.

"The sauce is made from pickle jelly."

"Is that supposed to make it less disgusting? Because it doesn't. In what part of your mind would it make things better?"

Death stared at the pizza. He placed it in the fridge, before closing the black doors. Fingerprints covered the surface. Some of them were smaller, but Death was pretty young when he started living here if my cloak was anything to go off of. Death drained the rest of his coffee and placed the mug aside.

"It's not like I was the one who wanted it, or thought it would be good. We had a competition a while back on who could come up with the most disgusting pizza. Whoever won would have theirs become a thing on Earth. I think Rafe won." A sigh left Death's lips and he stared into the distance, eyes focused on nothing. I waved my hand in front of his face. He didn't react. I frowned.

"Was it really that bad?" I asked.

Death jolted back into reality. He shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at me. "You know what? I went and did some extra work last night, not that I get paid overtime, but I think I should have enough time to teach you our language."

"Really?" My eyes widened and I leaned forward slightly. The entire time I had been here he's treated me with cold indifference. He talked to me and he's protected me, but everytime he did so it was clear he was doing it because of me being his apprentice, not because he liked me. The fact he let my body hit the ground, and he didn't heal the injuries first cemented that. His job was his first priority, I was just something he could use to make his job easier.

"Yeah. I mean, why not? I owe you for not getting you out of there the moment I sensed her. I'll be back in a minute, I need to grab a book from my study. Stay here."

Death walked upstairs. I rolled my eyes. Where else was I going to go? I might've been a rebellious person, but frankly I was too scared of Death to disobey him. I climbed up ontop of the counter and grabbed a snack from the cabinet. There was a good selection, despite this being a realm of death, rot, and destruction. I closed the cabinet and carefully lowered myself back to the ground. Even though I was dead, the thought of falling didn't sound appealing, maybe because it would hurt or maybe because I'd get laughed at by Death.