When the end is not the end...
The Angel of Death's Assistant
Chapter One draft
The boy, the flask and the lid
“No your wrong “whispered the dark haired boy. “Its not that I have no inspiration left its just that I have no determination left. Inspiration well I have plenty of it but no strength left.” Melancholy flavored eyes the color of brewing chocolate stared of into space, locking on nothing in particular. “That’s an interesting way to put it.” The low monotone whisper came out of the enveloping shadows of the room. The lanky youth sucked gently on the yellowish nail of his long thumb. “You see I have no interest in living this life any longer.” His voice was slightly muffled by his skin and his eyes wandered around the room until they locked on cobalt colored flask with its cap laying on the solid darkness a few feet away. “I presume you caught on that before.” Chuckling gently he extended his bony ghost colored hand towards the ominous bottle. For a second his face was flooded with a morbid sense of pride before his sharp pallid features masked back into a broken expression and his eyes pulled over into a deep chocolate colored state with a tone of wandering. A morbidly musical voice answered back coldly with just the smallest exposed tone of wander. “Yes...I wouldn’t be here if you had not.” “I suppose so.” replied the boy's set of rose colored lips. Though his tone was always morbid and sad it was always flavored with a hint of wander. The youth's liquid mahogany eyes scanned the solid ice colored darkness that seemed to settle over every inch of the dorm, covering everything in an ebony blue shadow except for the boy, the bottle and the small lid. “Well this is quite pleasant.” the youth's voice was covered with fluid sarcasm yet it was flavored with pleasantry and warmth in a way. Even his features told the same tale as they lit for a span of time almost making him look handsome with his long ebony colored hair covering his ears and a side of his cheeks and his face ivory and angelic but still hinting strongly at morbid and unappealing. But his morbid giddiness was abruptly cut short by an acidic yet hollow whisper. “Well forgive me my un-dear mortal but since when is death supposed to be pleasant.” The boy's guileful mask settled in as he nodded nonchalantly and whispered true. His frame crouched slightly as he continued to try to locate the source of the voice in a nonchalant matter. “But,” and his tone wandered off slightly then returned making his voice hasty. “Clearly you of all people...Excuse me of these things...must see the irony in life. But at any rate isn’t there a place you have to take me to?” “I do.” Finally an utter sense of emotion creped off slightly into the monotone voice of the unknown being “After all I've had eternity to figure out most of life's riddles...yet there are still things I do not comprehend fully.” It was deep amusement now. “Yes indeed the Hades always await after all...but no not for you.”
Cold shock settled fully over the boy’s face making his jaw and suddenly ebony mahogany eyes lock with a slight popping sound before opening and whispering in a puzzled wondering tone "Er...Heaven?" Even his stance straightened slightly. A dark chuckle erupted out of the nothingness surrounding him. “Of course not! Suicide does not grant you that privilege you silly human. But I have an offer for you.” Now the youth’s stance straightened making his frame appear lanky and his features sharper. Though covered by thick ebony hair he slowly raised a matching eyebrow and his eyes brewed into a burning amberish color. “An offer?” he replied in a baffled tone. “Yes” whispered the voice suddenly flavored with ancient grief. “You see...death's angel...in its everlasting evermore...is doomed to loneliness and emptiness. But you see...when I was designed by both Heaven and Hades...even such brilliant artists...forgot ...or perhaps...they did not...whose to say...one very important factor. Though I am in a side of my own...Not the human...Not the Heavens...Not the Hades...interaction with humans has caused me to become diseased. For after observing, so much, human emotion it has sickened me and brought an emotional conscience to me. So for several hundreds of years I've wondered what would happen if I missed one delivery, and made him or her, my own companion, no, my assistant.”
In the utter darkness the youth's snow colored complexion gave off a little light. His lips chewed slowly on his long finger nail and his thumb seemed to stiffen as his eyes widen dark chocolate wider over the white of his eyes. For a minute no mask settled over his pallid face, simply raw shock and wonder. "Your assistant.” he whispered in a more controlled tone now as his expression ossified and masked itself slowly. His frame crouched slightly and as he slowly drove his long bone colored hands into the velvety ebony fabric of his pants. His lips pursed slightly as his eye lids slid over his wide acorn colored pupils. It was all a facade to try to hide the morbid sense of excitement and utter wonder. Is that so he began slowly thick control over every syllable uttered? What would that entail? Why me? While a slow thought uncoiled in the depths of his mind, slow at first but increasing into a more up tempo drumming with every splicing second. Drum, drum , drumming inside his head. Is this...destiny?
His ebony mahogany eyes scanned through the ice colored darkness taking on a keen tone to further his charade. His tall crouched frame pivoted slightly to the side and his lips pursed slightly as he failed again. "So are you interested?" A slows grin expanded through his features and a shrug was contorted. "I presume I do...after all my other option is the Hades...and I 'd rather not risk being in the hot plates...though I could land on the icy ones but still...too much of a risk. Assistant to the Angel of Death sounds quite brilliant.” While he babbled his eyes silently and unmoving searched the darkness once more. Is this destiny?
“Fantastic then." The voice was that came out of the darkness this time was utterly anew. It was warm yet still icy but it was filled with curiosity and purpose in a way. Not to mention it was musical, like a soft melody playing across like the soft beat of rain falling upon a meadow. The youths mask of nonchalance and pretenses were drawn cut by the brilliantly delightful voice. Even his stance showed it. It was softer now, more relaxed and careless and his face but for a second was filled with an emotion that was mighty strange playing across his bone colored features. Peace, the quiet peace that comes with fulfilling rest. He felt his blood flow slow and his mind melt. All thoughts melting together in a pot, so thought process was utterly impossible. In other words he was dazzled. But he was much too stubborn. Too pigheaded to be dazzled by a voice, to be robbed of his insanity and a sense of being morbid was not a possibility. A click was almost audibly heard has his morbid mind recovered itself and he once more entered his own realm of depression and curiosity. Standing erect now with sharp chocolate colored eyes and ice colored skin he spoke in a wandering tone. "Yes brilliant but you’ve not explained what I've asked. If you wish me to be your assistant, then should you not further explain what it entails? And why do you not show yourself?" He stared around the ebony cobalt surroundings of the frozen room. Nothing, it was all covered in an unwavering darkness. The only things that omitted a thin pale light was where himself, the flask and its lid. Desperation was flowing fluidly through his veins. Could all of this be a mere charade? Was it a mere hallucination of the pills? Was he not part of the hollowness yet? Or...was this really death’s....angel....but was he being honest or was this a mere pun? Was it a mere game to satisfy his sadistic wishes? Or could it be a punishment for taking such drastic measures and committing suicide? Or perhaps even a mere enjoyment of the mind. What about an afternoon pleasantry? His ebony eyes were wide and wild now, searching across the darkness the only part of his body that gave him away to his desperation and fear. In an attempt at nonchalance he raised an ivory colored arm and with a hand of bony proportions softly moved the locks of black hair that covered his burning eyes. Gravity seemed to double has the musical voice spoke again. "Well I've simply not felt the need to show myself to your mortal eyes. It is within my choice, always. But no I am not invisible unless I chose to be but I am flesh and bone. Granted that, my immortality and powers of never changing make me different than humans. But in one way or more I would resemble a human being. On the meeting of Hades and Heaven before time and space itself...my fate was decided. The creator decided to make me too as his grandness and the beast had no objection for he too was made after the creators design." Death's Angels voice was filled with a soft defeated acceptance that could not be detected unless listened upon carefully and with utter empathy. And it was also fluidly flavored with ancient sadness. "You see I am the thing in time that is anchored forevermore. Only my mind changes with the passing of the seasons. But still time means very little to me. That is...until lately. Like I shared with you before...I am diseased now."
All was quite but for a second the boy’s expression conveyed pure understanding. Understanding of how lonely it must be …to be the angel of death. To be forever doomed to rip the souls out of mortals. To deliver them to the two gates and yet he himself would never go to either. To have a fate …and unwavering destiny given to him and …one that could not be escaped. And for that second he truly felt the unfathomable hollowness of the room. Covered in utter shadow and hollow cold, that gripped at every piece of matter. Well almost.
It was a sinking feeling that gripped at his chest, his eyes chocolate like and unprotected for the first time in the entire span of time after ending his life, had a child like quality. Wide and full of utter emotion. No mask settled over his face simply raw emotion. But it was only for a second for after that short span of time of understanding. Flashes of the reasons for ending his life ran through his mind. The pits of his stomach lightered just has his eyes did. Losing the child like innocence in them and gaining the attribute of ancient grief. His eyes much too worn and knowledgeable for a mere youth. Slowly they hardened, turning into a harder shade of brown. Like chocolate frozen in winter ice. His snow white features smoothed themselves out and a guileful and emotionless mask settled over them like winter over Octobers dying leafs. In his mind he knew there was no other option. In fact this seemed like a dream opportunity in a morbid sense of way. What other option did he really have? The Hades, he was mentally ready for them. Committing suicide… Well if one was to do that. Training was required, and his vessel was dead already. He believed the words of the Angel of Death now. Even if he had not ended his life he would have ended it soon enough. Death was a path that had been set upon his mind from the start of his life. And he fancied the idea of being the Assistant of the angel of death. He had no idea yet what it entailed. Or what would have to be done but he liked the title. It was grand. And he was much too selfish to really care for much else. Ripping souls, merely, amused him. It called to him in a sense. though through his eyes he had seen death’s loneliness and depression. The bigger part of him thought it was a brilliant job. To be immortal, forever anchored to the world. But not weak and powerless, no with utter power, the power to take someone’s soul. The duty of delivering souls to the Hades or the Heavens. He had never much liked mortality. It was too simple and pitiful… predictable. But still he had to keep the strong pretense until death parted with more of its knowledge. So he stared around the ebony ice colored darkness of the room. His wide, sharp eyes simply dismissing the white bulk of matter depressed in mourning cloths, staring sharply and unwavering at the darkness. His rose colored lips pursed slightly and he spoke in an annoyed tone with hidden curiosity in it, asking another question hoping the angel would answer, unlike some of his others. “So would I become immortal too, if I chose to become your assistant?”
There was an utter silence for an immeasurable amount of time. Even though time and space itself seemed to be frozen.
"If you chose to become my assistant, your soul will be anchored to this earth….to time and space. I can grant you several powers. And teach you to help me drip souls. Though, it constitutes more than merely ripping souls but more of that at another time. You will escape the Hades. There are things you will give up on that even in hell you would not. For example you will be damned to accompany me and do the job that is my life forevermore. And of course, Redemption will be forever forbidden from you because technically I am the only one …no… indeed I am the one made for this job. You must understand that if I took you to the Hades now. Even there you would still have a shot at redemption. That was part of the creator’s master plan. Or so I suspect. On the other hand if you become my assistant. You will be forever giving it up. And the unfathomable grandness of time will become nothing to you. You will be come the thing time cannot affect. Physically at least, unchanging forevermore, and there are other perils that come with being as I am. But at any rate, are you willing? To be utterly honest with you I do not know what will be the exact results of this process. I do however know that you will no longer be human…you will be come one of a kind….just like me. Well…not like me but I am referring to the fact that I am the only one of my kind in existence just as you shall be the only one of your kind in existence. It is your choice." The boy’s eyes were slightly wider and darker. The angels tone had been filled with ancient grief yet it had been very matter of fact and business like. He released a small inner smile. His features remaining smooth and business like as well. It was becoming excruciatingly difficult to hold back the utter curiosity and sense of morbid excitement. Though nothing but his eyes showed it, he had no problem giving up on redemption. In fact his mind did not even ponder over that. It was settled on the strange call of what becoming immortal would entail. His entire body was entering a weird sense of pleasure. Though deaths answers were muddled and not given at the asked times they were enough to convince him. It all conveyed an utter sense of wonder to him. The darkness spoke once more in a strong musical tone. "So do you agree with my preposition Alex?" Alex nonchalantly unclenched his right hand out of the ebony fabric of his pocket, feeling the clammy arctic sweat cling to the pores of his ghost colored skin. Warily he moved his thumb slowly towards his small ordinary proportioned mouth and laid his soft, yet hard skin against his lily colored lower lip and bit on his yellowish nail slowly and nonchalantly. Evening out his stone set features into a manner that appeared to be unresolved and wavering. His brow creased slightly. It was all a deranged pretense but it had always been his way to use facades. With a crouched frame he whispered softly, being slightly muffled by his skin. “Sure, why not?" His tone was slightly cheerful yet still angered to convey a sense of morbidness.
A dark musically dark chuckle escaped out of the enveloping shadows. "Brilliant! This only further proves that I shall forever be baffled by humanity, no matter how many centuries of observation transpose." The angels tone was filled fluidly with dark amusement, except for the last part of his speech. It was filled with a conveying tenure of curiosity and wonder and…sadness. "Well then let us begin my un-dearly dear mortal."
Alex stared at the eternal flavored darkness with sharp curious eyes, scanning the utter darkness once more. He dismissed the items that were morbidly illuminated and settling curiously and amused on top of the snow colored bulk near the cobalt colored flask. He had dismissed it before yet knew in his heart of hearts that if death was truly visible but was merely appearing blank to his eyes. He would be settling on the thing that would call him. Staring with cold dark mahogany eyes at the hollow features of his now death body for a hasty second before noticing the slow churning of ebony cobalt on top of it. A high pitched sound entered his ears hesitantly at first but hastily over the progress of a second causing his features to furrow in pain. Gravity seemed to triple now, crippling him, making any movement a thing of a dream, except for that of his marble chocolate eyes. Matter continued contorting around the empty darkness. Solidifying and gluing it together. Alex could do nothing but watch as a shape contorted out of the ebony ice colored blackness, as it bloomed out of nothing. Feeling his body tightened as his eyes watched the creation of a figure in the utter darkness…it was noticeable because the shape was darker than darkness itself. Odd but that was the only way to describe it. And his skin could not decide between turning hot or arctic chilling. It changed constantly as his eyes expanded over its whites, like a glass being slowly filled with solid chocolate that still had the full attributes of liquid. There was raw shock spilling out every pore in his body. The feeling …the indescribable feeling that was pouring out his cold chest was similar to that of a sinking ship, sinking slowly into waters made out of solid darkness. Air stopped its delivery of oxygen to his lungs…or at least that’s how it appeared to him. The keen sound stopped abruptly and the shady figure was finally fully contorted. Alex’s body was shaking slowly his being set fully in hyperventilation. But still his eyes stared unwaveringly like a stone set forever in time. Locking with utter determination and helplessness on the tall obscure frame and then slowly and puzzled on the long wooden stick with a blade made of a bleak gray colored material at the end of it that was slanted to the towards the floor. The scythe of the angle of death, every inch of the ancient artifact seemed to shine in a gray light that was ominous to the eye. Roughly being around 3feet long and the figure 6’5 but that was mere estimation of his now melted mind. It was as if darkens was stepping out of darkens. His insides seemed to melt along with his mind and bones. His entire being seemed to be caked into one pot of melting Alex. The soundless room was barraged by the soft steps of the obscure figure crossing the ivory bulk of skin that seemed to have ice qualities settling over his expression and exposed skin. The sound was repeated over and over has the figure approached Alex’s shaking body. While in his mind he fought with every fiber of strength in his being for strength to keep up his facades and pretenses. He walked in a floor made of solid darkness, carrying his scythe as it was a part of him, as if it was a necessary limb, like an arm or a leg. Though it had taken the figure no more than a second it had appeared as an eternity to Alex. But now his face was smooth and his body stood perfectly and utterly erect, lids closed overlapping his eyes to hide the fear, the cold fear that bit at his chest now. The hooded figure stood before him now, its frame taller than his own frame for about 5inches.
Alex stared at it, with a facade full nonchalance, raising an eyebrow and smiling a little. Though one could hardly tell his lips that were the color of dead roses merely moved a fraction of an inch but still this was how he smiled. So this was deaths angel he thought to himself. “Eerie“, he whispered and then chuckled, opening his eyes which where like two melted pots of chocolate, soft and warm. The tall shadow cackled quietly and settled an ivory hand on Alex shoulder. Alex stared at it, his eyes puzzled. His mind and body...they felt like...nothing, but in a good sense of way. It was mere peace that settled over him. No racing thoughts ran through his mind. And his blood flowed slowly through his veins. Being touched by death was truly, accelerating, if it could be accelerating, because it was too calming and peaceful to be anything more but still. Not only was that but his hand, if that indeed his hand. It was...white, truly white. It was such a shade of alabaster that all other whites where fakes compared to it were mere imitations, fakes against this true complexion.
His eyes wide and chocolate brown where locked on the Angels hand. There where no impulses running through him, simply, quietness and a soft wonder. "Eerie?" Spoke the musical voice of the angel. "Well?” he mused in a wondering tone has his hand settled over Alex shoulder. “Odd...” his hand was both burning hot, like fire straight out of the Hades and yet icy like space air, yet, he felt like he could stand both. In fact he enjoyed them because they both seemed to melt together to form a pleasant touch. It was a long hand, with bony yet fleshy fingers five of them. He laughed quietly at that. Death continued. "Yes well I supposed to the mortal eye...I appear eerie." Alex could not speak his muscles normally willing to comply with his pigheadedness where too soft, too peaceful to move. So his molten chestnut colored eyes simply continued staring at the hand. "Though this custom was inspired after human designed...go figure they’d be terrified of it" Alex could hear a smile on the angels voice.
The angel removed his hand from Alex’s shoulder and settled it over his own face. As soon has Deaths hand was removed from his shoulder. It all came to Alex. Like a nuclear fusion, tapping every one of his tones with raw shock. His impulses, the racing thoughts, his blood flowed at an increased rate, higher than usual. It all erupted in him with such haste. All the questions in his mind, exploded at once. A normal person would have fainted at this sudden change. A normal sane person would surely collapse after such shock and raw awe. But Alex was too busy thinking and plotting and wondering. Not to mention he was never sane or normal. This as the Angel of Death he was sure of it now. Utterly sure, he had no proof. Well no solid proof. Buts still, he felt it. In his chest, there was a small drumming that indicated it. This was indeed the reaper of souls, the end. His face was still pivoted towards where the angels hand used to be.
The angel’s last comment crept at his mind. Made after human design he thought to himself as his face pivoted towards the figure of utter darkness whose two alabaster hands shone at the end of its robe, making a little light of their own.
“Well Alex” The angel spoke in a grand fully musical tone, too grand and amused. Alex thought to himself….he’s playing around “Its time for you to see my face.” “Er… your face…?” His tone was hasty and questioning. Of course he thought to himself…this thing he’s wearing. He gazed at the angels flowing robe of true darkness. is it a mere custom? Both of the white beacons settled over his robes hood. Alex’s body was now fully pivoted so that it faced directly in an erect matter at the Angels body.
As the angel slowly heaved his hood backwards, Alex’s eyes locked on his face. Raw shock settled over his face and his chocolate eyes widened to an impossible extent. For the first time during the entire conversation…he truly felt like fainting.
A million thank yous to my brilliant editor: WAde. I coudnt have finished this first chatper without you mate