Death || By A.E Brown
Mors vincit omnia
Death conquers all
Time ceased as Death arose from the mist that had gradually materialised throughout the night. With him, crows appeared, their eyes white as they screeched to all willing ears.
"Mors vincit omnia"
He came to a halt as he gazed at the house of his next victim, one for whom he'd formerly bargained with.
The abrupt pain caused by the bargain constricted around his wrist, a shackle of iron barbs that cut whenever he moved. These bonds twisted up his arms like vines, the spikes spearing him with the pain he deserved. The more bargains he made with the living, the more bonds materialised until there wasn't an inch of him not impaled.
"Dolore mereo (I deserve pain)." Death sighed and slowly walked forward, pushing into the house as if he owned it.
Outside, the sky cried furiously, causing the windows to vibrate as they took the painful lashing of emotion. Crows circled the night sky, their eyes glinting white as the skies let out sharp cracks of light. High-pitched cries struck the house, a call for aid as Death gradually made his way up the creaky, wooden stairs. The smell of dampness lingered in the air, the consequences of a window left open throughout a storm. From the bathroom, the aroma of perfume, musky and rich, infiltrated the hallway, the scent of the single living human that remained.
From downstairs, the old grandfather clock let out a chime, and the small broken bird hooted as the hands struck midnight. The call did not concern Death; instead, it guided him onward, his pace slightly faster as he ambled onto the landing and strode toward the bedroom in the back. A flash cracked outside as the door creaked open, and rays rumbled through the room briefly before vanishing. The light, nevertheless, was enough for the man sitting in the corner to glimpse Death and sigh.
"I guess it is time then, old friend." Death watched the man clench his hands into fists and sigh, the flesh turning white as he pushed up from his chair. He could see the tears forming in the man's eyes as he walked to where his lover lay and settled on the edge of the bed to run his hands over the blond locks that concealed her face. Pink lips parted, and her hands rested on her swollen belly; the man choked and bent forward, his lips caressing his lover's temple as he settled his hand against hers. Life swelled beneath his hand as he whispered something inaudible.
Death felt an ache as he observed the man; he'd mourned this pain a thousand times, yet it never became easier. Where his soul should be was a hole that appeared to increase with each passing day - he yearned for what the man wept for with every fibre of his being, yet he knew it would remain eternally elusive. He was no mortal man; he was Death, unlovable and cruel - feared and hated by all.
"Mors vincit omnia." Death held up his hand, his body burning with pain as he stepped toward the man once more. The man was oblivious to Death's pain; everyone was, yet Death didn't mind. His pain was a worthy price for life. He would suffer for an eternity if it meant he could lengthen the life of the mortals who feared his arrival.
"What will happen when I die?" Death didn't want to tell the man he was already dead, so instead, he stepped forward.
"All despair will leave you; you will go where there is eternal warmth and laughter. You will go to where there is love and acceptance - You will join those you have lost and linger for those left behind. You will be a guardian to those that mean the most within your heart." The man bowed his head, his hand falling from his lover's stomach.
"And what of them?" Death, of course, did not know the answer, so again, he stepped forward.
"In cordibus nostris vivere mori non est (To live in our hearts is not to die). You will live on in their hearts and memories. There will be pain, but gradually that will fade until it becomes an ache of what was and never will be." The man exhaled and stood, his body shaking as he cried. Death remained still as the man shakily raised his hand and settled it on his own.
"Memento mori.(Remember you must die)" Death clasped the man's hand and closed his eyes. Shadows swallowed them, enveloping them from the world of the living as they were ferried to where the deceased lived. Through riots of pain and torment, obsidian and evil, they moved until warmth embraced them with open arms. Death came to a halt and smiled, feeling the single shackle release as he removed his hand from the man and stepped back. There were no goodbyes here, so Death watched as the man began to shimmer, his face and body unwinding into the eternal.
For a second, Death felt the warmth and love and welcomed it with a smile before slipping back into the pain and darkness that had become home.
