Thanatos : The Red Dawn

(3)Wine coloured poison

"When does Death ever mean well?"

Wine Coloured Poison

My black boots echoed down the long, brick corridor. A deep male voice rang out from the other side as I stepped over the threshold and into a small humble room covered in dust and the smell of old and crumbling books.

The grey bearded man on the other side immediately sensed my presence as a shiver shot up his spine. The young boy standing across from him looked sickly pale as he peered over the man's shoulder and caught sight of my hand. In it I held Morte- my scythe.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" The elderly man grumbled and turned his cantankerous gaze to glower at me. I smirked at his reaction and watched as the young boy grew even paler.

My grinning mouth was visible along with my lower nose, but as for my eyes, it was better to keep them hidden in the presence of mere mortals. I'd learned that the hard way.

"Troubles, Conrad?" I watched as the boy's eyes grew wider at the sound of my voice.

His hand shot out and grabbed the elder man's brown trench coat. His white knuckles clenched on for dear life as his eyes bore into the area where mine would have been visible.

The man smacked the child's hand away and spoke with the authority and anger of a father, "Pull yourself together, boy!"

He smacked the young man on his head with his rough hand and watched from the corner of his eye as I comfortably leaned myself against the old mahogany desk. My gaze travelled over the desk as Conrad continued to instruct the young boy on what to do for the coming finals. The boy pretended to listen and I pretended to care about the desk's interesting pattern.

"...and after the fire test, remember to call up Francesca. She'll direct you to the area in the woods where you can find the plant. And for heaven's sake, do NOT eat the bloody thing like last time!"
Conrad's British accent shook the little dome and the young man nodded, his head moving at the speed of sound.

It was clear to any idiot that this boy had never been in the presence of Death. As for Conrad, he was far too comfortable with me for my own liking -and his.

"Now get back to the lunch hall!"

With another smack the boy flew out of the room and ran for the buildings exit, but not before stopping in front of me and whimpering; "Morte sii clemente."

I smirked proudly and casually spoke while pointing a lazy finger down the hall at the retreating, shivering figure, "Why aren't you afraid like that anymore?"

"Hmp!" Conrad scoffed and picked up a pile of books on a smaller desk. His back turned to me. I watched as he rummaged through some old rolled up scrolls. "Afraid of what? That piece of crap in your hand?"

I vividly gasped and picked up the shrunken down version of my scythe and gently stroked it, like a mother holding her wailing infant. "Shhh... Morte. The nasty man didn't mean it..."