My Book of Short Tales and Poems

Not Alone

            Two old, brick and cinder block buildings came together to create a small, dirty alleyway. Two large dumpsters sat diagonally from each other, the smell of old food, filth, and other combinations of wretch combined to assault the noses of all who passed. A heap of dirty rags sat against one of the dumpsters, providing the only protection available to the man who rested beneath them. From the end of the alleyway stood a watchful figure, unable to be seen by anyone but the man, who took no notice of his presence.

            Death peered across at the scruffy, sickly man with a natural, emotionless look, though his mind processed and ran with the emotions his face was want to convey. This was a very common sight for him, and while a mere human would have grown numb to the emotions by now, he still handled each individual with the same care he always had. He slowly approached the man, Hector he knew his name to be, and shifted his appearance to be one Hector would find most comforting. Hector still took no notice of his presence, too engaged in fighting off the cold and the demons which Death knew haunted him everyday.

            He sat down next to the man and took a moment to study his features, what he could see at least. A face gaunt and dirty, hair long, greasy, and matted. A series of scars ran across his dark face; shrapnel wounds he had gotten in a war he had no place fighting in. A war that wounded him more than just physically. He had taken so many of his friends during that time, and now he would reunite them.

            "Hector," he spoke up softly.
            Hector shot up, looking at him before looking around with wide, frantic eyes. "Are-are you with them? Do you see them too? Why won't they leave me alone?! Just leave me alone!" Death glanced around the empty alley, wondering what kind of monstrosities his mind was conjuring for him to see.

            Turning back to Hector's trembling for, Death placed a hand on his shoulder, instantly filing him with a soothing calm. "No, I'm not with them. They can never torment you again."
            Confusion pinched his now calm face; he blinked several times, "They... they can't?"
            "No, they can't. I'll make sure of that. I'm here to take you home. To your friends."
            "Home? My... my friends?"
            "Yes, Colonel Francisco and Private Dylan. They're waiting for you. Are you ready to go?"

            "Yes," Hector instantly answered, "I'm ready. I want to see them. I've missed them."
            Death smiled. "They've missed you too." He stood up, taking Hector's hand and helping his soul leave his body. With a wave of his hand he opened the door to heaven. "Let's go, Hector."