Key Stealer

Chapter 2

There he stood, silent and pale as the last time I saw him. His hair was a dark black, his face indescribable. He walked toward me dressed in a black T-shirt, black pants, and bare feet. He stood tall, a foot above me. He seemed young, like my age of thirteen, but then again he could look any way he pleased.

          I realized I was sitting in a white room with only one door that seemed several feet away and as he got closer, he held out a hand. I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet.

          “Long time.” I murmured, looking into those timeless grey eyes.

          “Eliza,” His voice was cold and when he spoke, a cold feeling stirred in my chest. “This is the second time I’ve met you. Why do you keep giving up?”

          “I do not!” I snapped at him and pulled my hand away from him, curling both hands into fists at my sides.

          “Then how come you have reappeared in my realm twice now? You have a job to perform, Eliza. Do not fail me again, or I just might pick someone else for the job if you cannot carry out the duties.” He frowned at me and scratched his chin.

          “I can finish the job!” I yelled and thrust a fist forward, hitting him square in the chest. It felt like hitting an iron block. I winced and pulled back my hand, cradling it.

          “Nice try.” He smirked.

          His name was Death. He could never die. Which meant he was the bridge between living and dying. He chose who died and who got a second chance at living. His brother was Fate, but I never messed with him. A snap of his fingers, and Fate could send you a one way ticket to Death. Fate came to me once while I was at my parents’ funeral and told me I was destined to become the Key Stealer.

          The Key Stealer was the prophesized stealer of the Master of Keys. Master of Keys could open the Gates of Fate and Gates of Death with a single key. This was an evil key forged of an ancient metal without a name by both Fate and Death’s powers combined. It could open Death’s gate and could bring back people of the dead or open Fate’s gate and twist somebody’s fate. The key was made to sustain peace between life and death without having fate twist somebody’s life. But the key had been stolen by the Master of Keys.

          Many generations ago there was a prophecy about somebody who’d steal this key and return it to the rightful place of Fate and Death’s kingdom. Where that was, I didn’t exactly know. I was the child that would steal this key and become the Key Stealer.

          Ever since that day Fate came and gave me the key, I’d been running from the demons. The demons could change shapes and would stop at nothing to follow their Master’s orders to track me down and capture me.

          “Yeah whatever.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms against my chest.

          He knit his eyes brows and tipped his head to the side. “My brother is annoyed with your progress.”

          “I don’t care what your brother thinks of me.” I grumbled and turned away to look at nothing but a white wall.

          Cautiously, Death put a pale hand on my shoulder and whispered, “You should choose your words with great care around our kingdom. You should fear Fate and I for that matter.”

          “I don’t care what your brother thinks of my words, and I don’t fear you or Fate. And I don’t care if you strike me down or steal my soul or whatever, because seriously, nothing could be worse than the position I’m in right now.” I yelled indignantly at him and shoved his hand away.

          I thought he’d round on me with a shout back for me being so rude to him and his family, but instead he said softly, “I feel sympathy for you. You’ve lost everything, but it is my job to take away the people Fate has sent to me. It’s like him playing with toys and breaking them, so it is my job to take the toys and fix them again.”

          “So that’s what mortals are to you? Nothing more than little toys for you and your brother to play with?” I snapped and clenched my hands into fists again.

          “I didn’t mean it like that.”

          “Course you didn’t. Now just send me back or whatever so I can finish the job and die for once.” I turned around so quickly that my long, brown braid snapped in the air like a whip.

          Death waved his hand and a misty image appeared on a white wall. The children I had left behind were clustered around my body as the blood still flowed from my wounds and panicked faces tried to control their horror at the scene that had just happened.

          “Alright,” Death announced, clasping his hands together. “You know the drill. I’ll wipe the memories of the mortals to think that you never died.”

          I nodded and gulped. “What do I do when my soul goes back? What do I say to Leah?”

          Death rubbed his chin and stared at my intently. “Just go with them to Hilton Academy. I’ll send a guardian to help you, okay?”

          I gritted my teeth. I could take care of myself. I didn’t need someone else’s help. “Yeah, alright, fine. But can I please have my bow and quiver back?”

          Death wagged his index finger in my face, “Weapons are not allowed at school.”

          Frustrated, I yelled, “Then how am I supposed to protect myself?!”

          Death smiled and I was blinded by a brilliant smile. “Fine, fine. I will wipe any memories that come across you using weapons on campus.” He snapped his fingers and a table appeared five feet to the right of us. My quiver rested on it, twelve, gleaming silver arrows carefully placed inside along with my silver bow. The silver had been completely untouched by the demons.

          The last time I’d come across the demons, they had confiscated my bow before I had died. I had acquired a good knife while on the run when Death had sent me back, but I never got back my bow that I had used since I was ten.

          I slung my quiver over my shoulder and fidgeted with the strap’s buckle until it was firmly across my chest. I balanced the bow on the palm on my hand and gripped it gently. A warm feeling crept up my arm and I slung the bow over my shoulder.

          “Alright.” I murmured. “Send me back.”

          I turned toward Death and looked up into his cold, grey eyes. His face was perfect except for the sickly paleness of it. His black hair fell across his forehead in that windswept way. He looked like he was only thirteen, yet he was many millennia old. That was the thing about being immortal- you could look any way you wanted.

          He put a thumb on my cheek and looked at me as if inspecting a picture. It was so cold I nearly pushed it away, but I tried my best not to flinch as the cold swept through me. I knew he had to do this though. When I went back to my other body, the coldness would help me feel no pain as my soul repaired the body.

          Death pulled back his finger and took his other hand and pressed the palm to my forehead. Everything went blurry for a moment and just as I was blacking out, I swore I could hear Death say, “Goodbye, Eliza. Until next time.”