As I stand in this man's house, I stare at his lifeless body at
my feet. Blood pouring from his collapsed skull. The hammer in my hand
dripping, this job was such a mess. Nevermind that, time to clean up. Dropping
the hammer and pulling off my gloves, I stride across the room and grab
the cloth sack. I strip off the bloody clothes and throw them onto the
body. After redressing, I grab the oil and lantern, the only light source
for this small cabin in the black of night.
My favorite part, by far, is the cleanup. As much as I love to sever heads, the smell of the oil I coat the body with, and the fire, intoxicating with it’s beauty and greed, I find more seductive than any woman, and more gratifying than any pleasure. Fire explodes and devours my latest work, as the lantern shatters on the corpse. Feeling the warm presence of flame is the only comfort I've ever needed. This room, once dark, now glows with an orange light, so familiar to these eyes.
Sweat begins to drip from my brow as the heat climbs, time to leave. As my exit draws near, not three feet from the door, a cloak blocks me, absent of color. "Yet another victim I see." This dark and powerful voice, spoke in monotone through an unmoving mouth, the empty eyes staring deep from that haunting achromatic skull. "Don't act so surprised to see me. After all, I do have a soul to collect."
"Dumbfounded, apparently," he says, with what looked like a smirk. Who knew the angel of death was sarcastic?
"Please, just leave me be, I..I...I won't kill! I'm done," I beg, hoping this all-knowing being hears my plea.
"Pathetic, how quick man will fold when some power poses a threat. You should be more accepting of death, considering you deal it on a daily basis."
Death! Of course, he collects souls. With this thought, I become magnitudes more confident. "You should be thanking me! Twenty-three souls I've given you now."
"You base your thought on a stereotype. I do not enjoy taking the lives of innocent men such as him," he gestures to the smoldering carcass, which now has an odor more foul than I've ever experienced, "Although I do not mind liberating the world of scum such as yourself." Death’s displeasure has frozen the air around us; fire has no power over his icy presence.
"You can't really take a live man's soul? I'm living, there must be some law that governs you!"
"Hah! The only law I obey is my own," he begins to explain with condescension, "Lucky for you I don't take the souls of the living, lest you would be burning now." His words bring a horrific realization. Burning....my god! The house enveloped in fire, the only area unscathed, that around Death. "My job is done, I will be leaving now, buisiness to attend. I wish you luck and suggest you run." With these words he fades.
Death's deception! Now doomed by my own doing. Black is his heart! To condemn me to fire for all time, curse him. What was once peaceful now threatened me, tearing at my flesh. "You win! Please jus..*cough*." The walls creak, wood snapping, my end is now. "Ahhh!" My leg! Swallowed by this demon! A sample of my eternal fate.
Needs editing so any and all critiques are much appreciated.