A Conversation With Death

“In the beginning there was only darkness. My existence had no meaning, no true purpose. That was until I met her. She gave me the purpose I had longed for. However, much as most do who witness me, she was afraid of me. Her beauty is the opposite to my ugliness. Her kindness is the opposite to my wickedness. Together, we are balanced. Forever apart, but without one the other would have no purpose. I am Death and she is Life.”

“You may be wondering why I am telling you my story. Well, it’s hard to exist as long as I have and not yearn to communicate. Even though your time here is a mere fragment of my existence; I find that you may understand much of what I have dealt with. People being afraid of you, even if they don’t understand why we do the things we do.”

An old man sitting in a hospital bed begins to cough. The room is dark, darker than one would expect a hospital room to be. After the old man is done coughing, he rests his head back down on his pillow. He looks back over to the empty corner nearest him.

“My apologies, please continue.” The old man says softly.

“I’ll do my best to make this quick, I know you are weary and every breath you take is like fire to your lungs.”

The old man nods.

“I am ready when you are.” He says slowly.

“When she first came into existence, I was curious. I had never seen anything so beautiful. I approached her while she stood in her garden. She smiled at me, and the coldness inside me began to warm. Her smile quickly faded to fear and anger as her creations began to die around me. Anything I touched wilted and died instantly.”

“I fled from the scene; I was afraid that if I touched her then she too would cease to exist. That was something I couldn’t have on my conscience. I know what you must be thinking; does Death really have a conscience? Well of course I do, why would I want to keep destroying the beauty that she creates.”

A nurse walks into the room and checks a few of the reading on the machines nearby. The old man turns his head slightly to look at her and gives a faint smile.

“How are you feeling today, Martin?” The nurse asks.

“Tired.” Martin replies.

“Is there anything I can get you?” She asks.

Martin shakes his head. The nurse places her hand on his arm and smiles at him. She turns to leave and stops to look at the thermostat before exiting.

“She doesn’t know does she?”

Martin shakes his head.

“No one does.” Martin says as he turns his attention to the dark corner of the room, “Please continue.”

“Yes, where was I? Yes, her creations roamed the earth, living in peace. One day I thought to myself ‘Maybe I could create something like she did’ so I tried. The monstrosity of the thing I created was once again the opposite of what she had created. Where her creatures were peaceful, my creature was chaotic. It hungered for the taste of flesh, where her creatures hungered for the green that she had created to nurture them.”

“The first time I saw my creation attack one of hers I was appalled, yet at the same time I found myself excited. I felt as though I was feeding myself as my creatures were feeding themselves. I quickly got excited and began to create other creatures who were better at hunting hers down. This went on for too long and I quickly saw the light in her fade. I knew something had to be done. Not only did my creations begin to overrun the planet, but they also began turning on each other. Their hunger never satisfied. So, I plucked a pebble from the sky and hurled it down to the planet.”

“Though she wept for the creatures that I wiped from the planet, she was excited at the blank canvas that she had to start a new. I vowed then that I would not create anything ever again. To which she agreed to create some creatures for me to enjoy. However, I will tell you that no creature she has created excited me as much as man. There was something about humans that was different. They could communicate in ways that her other creatures could not.”

The nurse walks back into the room carrying a blanket. Martin looks at her.

“It’s really cold in here, so I brought you another blanket.” The nurse said as she places it over him.

“Thanks.” Martin says slowly.

“I was asked to tell you, that your granddaughter is in labor. Looks like you’ll be a great-grandfather soon.”

Martin smiles and turns his head back to the dark corner. The nurse looks over in the corner, trying to figure out what it is that Martin is staring at. Seeing nothing, she turns and leaves the room.

“She’s lovely, reminds you of your past, doesn’t she?

“Yes, she does.” Martins says with a smile. “I would have enjoyed her.”

“And that is what makes humans so interesting. Your free will, your desire to do whatever you want. I think humans are the one creature that she created that she regrets the most, but there is a part of me that thinks she did it because she too yearns to communicate. Though I’m not sure who she communicates with; every soul I have communicated with can’t remember her.”

“I remember the first time I saw a human. I was intrigued, and it didn’t take long for them to sour. Of all the creations that she has created, none have satiated me like humans. Every so often one comes along that proves that humans can be kind, but as time has proven repeatedly most are cruel and selfish, especially those with power. I stayed true to my word and did not create anything. Though she has accused me of doing so from time to time. Anytime a large population of her creatures cease to exist she blames me. The Black Death was one notable occasion where she accused me of creating again. Though her smile warmed me on the inside, her rage burned me to the core. I hate it when she is upset.”

“Though she’s not always angry at me. I remember during the crusades she came to me. She couldn’t understand why her creations were slaughtering themselves over some false being they called God. I often wonder if they would realize that the closest thing to their God was her. She was so upset that I asked her if she wanted me to throw another pebble at them. She hesitated; the only time I have ever made that suggestion where she didn’t immediately dismiss it.”

Martin begins to cough. After several minutes he quiets and lays his head back on his pillow.

“Can I make a request?” Martin asks.

“You can always make a request; the issue is whether or not I honor that request.”

Martin chuckles and then begins to cough again. He settles back into his pillow and looks at the corner.

“Can I see my great-granddaughter before we leave?” Martin asks.

“Unfortunately, that is a request I cannot honor. You see some time ago; we agreed that for every soul she creates I must take one. In your instance, the soul that must be taken so that your great-granddaughter can have one, is yours.”

“Doesn’t she already have one?” Martin asks between short breaths.

“Well yes, but it is tied to yours. Per her agreement, when she creates a soul, she also creates that soul’s lineage. Each soul goes through 10 cycles, or as you call them, life spans. Your great-granddaughter is that 10th cycle. For each of your cycles I have come to you and conversed. I have found that of all the humans she has created you have been the most interesting.”

“Why me?” Martin asks.

“You’ve lived some interesting lives in your cycle.”

“Really, anyone I would know? Martin asks slowly.

“Vlad the Impaler, Elizabeth Bathory, Henry VIII, Adolf Hitler; just to name a few.”

There is a moment of silence. Martin smiles a little then turns to the corner.

“When did you agree on the 10 cycles.” Martin asks.

“During the First Crusade, more people were dying than she could create. To save their souls we came to this agreement. Now I act as a guide to those souls who need to find their next body.”

“Well today should be a short trip for you.” Martin chuckles before having another coughing fit.

“Indeed, though I can travel great distances in mere seconds.”

Martin begins coughing and spits up some blood. A nurse hearing the coughing fit comes in to check on him. She sees the blood on his mouth and grabs a tissue and wipes it up.

“How much longer do I have?” Martin asks, without looking at the nurse.

“What do you mean?” the nurse asks.

Martin slowly looks over to the nurse.

“Until my great-granddaughter is born?” He asks.

“Oh, shouldn’t be too long. I’m sure someone will come show you pictures very soon.” The nurse says.

She smiles at him for a brief second, but in that second Martin could see that she was struggling to keep positive. She then turns and leaves the room.

“Do I always die alone?” Martin asks, returning his gaze to the corner.

“Never, for I am always here with you.”

“But does my family ever come visit me?” Martin asks.

“You are an odd soul, Martin. For all the chaos you have brought to people, you still care if your family loves you.”

“That’s human nature. We yearn to be loved.” Martin responds.

There is a pause as Martin waits for an answer to his question.

“I think that they sense the darkness your soul carries. Many of them pretend to care, but in the end, they are frightened by you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I have you here, old friend.” Martin says with a smile.

“Friend? Never thought I could say I had a friend.”

“Well, if you are the only one who comes to visit me in the end, then you are a true friend.”

“I am honored; your soul has been a delight to watch over the years. And I am sure that your final cycle will be much the same.”

The nurse walks back in the doorway and watches Martin.

“Do you think she’ll end up like me? A serial killer who never gets caught?”

The nurse looks shocked, and then slowly backs out of the room.

“If your soul has shown me anything, it is that I am always busy with you around.”

Martin smiles and stares up at the ceiling. Slowly his eyes close and his breathing begins to slow.

The nurse walks back in with another nurse. They stop in the doorway and watch as Martin lays there with his eyes closed.

“He was talking about being a serial killer.” The first nurse whispered to the other.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” the second nurse started, “he always creeped me out.”

“He’s always been sweet to me though.” The first nurse defended.

“Maybe you were his type.” The second nurse responded.

“Whatever,” the first nurse said before pushing the second out of the door. “Let’s let him rest.”

Martin’s breathing suddenly becomes a wheezing.

“It’s time to go Martin.” Death says as he walks over and places a boney hand on Martin’s forearm.

Martin’s breathing stops, and Death listens to Martin’s heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum... ba-dum... silence. A new cycle begins.