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Prologue
Have you ever been home alone at night and had the sudden feeling that someone is watching you?
That’s me.
I’m responsible for those moments. You know the ones. That feeling you get when there’s a chill in the room and you want to cuddle a little closer into your sweater. The adrenaline rush you get when you narrowly miss being in an accident. Sometimes you feel me because I’m realm-hopping, moving between dimensions to fulfill my quota. Other times… well. It might just be your time to go.
I can’t promise you an easy passing. I can’t even promise you a painless one. Those decisions—or when, or why—are not mine to make. What I can promise you is that I’ll be there in your last moments, waiting to guide you back to where your soul first entered this world. I’ll walk with you where no one else can, and together we will face the great unknown until you’re ready to finally let go.
There’s really nothing to be afraid of. Everyone dies. Even best friends.
Of all my coworkers, I enjoyed my time with Connie the best. She was sweet and bold, with a wit sharp enough to slice through iron and a talent for making cookies that could tempt angels—literally. From her, I learned that not every situation is to be taken seriously and not all jazz music is bad. She taught me how to flip pancakes, even though I can’t even eat them.
I also learned the valuable lesson of what a broken heart feels like.
I wasn’t with Connie in her final moments. That great privilege was stolen from me by a being simply known as the Soul Dealer. A foul and odious creature working for the foulest and most odious of them all. He has many names, but some you may recognize are Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, and the Devil. A few years ago, he thought to ‘contemporize’ himself and spread the word that he wanted to be known to all celestials as ‘The Big D’.
Oh, the irony.
I want revenge on them both, and if Upper Management won’t step in and ensure they pay for the crime they committed against Connie, then I will.
I’m not sure whether it’s a good or a bad thing that Connie’s celestial role passed to her daughter upon her soul being ripped from this world.
Bunny’s something else, alright. As soon as I saw her at Connie’s funeral, I knew she was going to be a handful. She’s bold and full of sass like her mother, but she has this uniquely pessimistic outlook that should be more my cross to bear than hers. It’s sad and intriguing all at once. And she’s completely magnetic. I find myself drawn to her the way no other human—not even her mother—has captured my attention. I find myself wondering things, such as what it would be like to go grocery shopping with her or take her to the movies.
To be part of her emotional and frail human world.
But all of that is just wishful thinking. There is literally time and space between us. I’m immortal and have seen her mother and grandmother and great-grandmother serve in her role before she stepped into it. One day, deep down, I know I’ll have to take her, too. It’s why I can’t afford to let myself get too close. For her sake, more than mine. Humans feel everything so keenly, but nothing stings sharper than that final goodbye.
I’m Death, and this is my story.
It’s just a shame I can’t remember any of it.
