Written words

Angelic as Death

Hey y'all! This would be week seven. Apparently the scary story competition was two weeks long and no one told me about it, so I completed mine in the first week. Therefore there was no topic last week. This week however there is! Yippee! (Show some enthusiasm people) Anyways, this week's theme is death. We did this prompt writing thing at the meeting and all the stories ended with death. So we were just like "hey why not?" So here we are. However me being me, I don't want to do a cliché death story. So instead I'm a doing a story told by the Angel of Death. Of course Ella had no idea how much one little car trip to grandma's house would change her life. Well if you call being the Angel of Death a life, that is.

The last thing I remember is my hands leaving the wheel and flying up to cover my face, as if that would've helped at all. I remember the rain coming down in sheets so thick I couldn't see ten feet in front of me. I remember a pair of headlights shining bright in my eyes. I remember the glass raining down on me and then a pain so unbearable I couldn't think. Then the silence and blackness that became a white light and  angelic music. I remember walking, not really knowing where I was going but knowing that I would go where I needed to be. Then I was standing in a colosseum like place surrounded by angels. The Angels were in the seats on the sides of the colosseum, and in front of me there was a giant white light. I couldn't look at it, so I kept my eyes down on my shoes. I remember the voice that echoed  through the air.

"Ella Thompson," it said. "You are dead, and I will make you a deal. This was not supposed to happen yet. Your soul was too curious. However, I can allow you to walk on earth still. I can appoint you as the Angel on Death." I remember nodding my head without realizing what I was agreeing to. I remember saying yes. I didn't know I would be the one to take the souls of children, some not even born yet. I didn't know I would have to pull souls from the clutches of their loved ones. I didn't know I would be wrecking lives. But that is what I do. I am death.

                                 ***

My wings are black as the night. But they are huge and majestic. I had to ditch my old, faded, blue jeans and baggy t-shirts for a little black dress, and my ratty, old, red high top converse for no shoes. My black hair no longer is in its signature pony tail, now it is down in loose waves coming down to the center of my rib cage. My green eyes have become more vibrant than they used to be because of the mascara that is forever stuck on my eyelashes. My cheeks are a light rosy color and they never change. My lips are a pale pink as well. My look never changes, I am forever stuck in time.

People on earth have this image of death as the grim reaper. But I don't look like that, I look human other than my ebony black wings of course. I've lost count of the souls I've retrieved. I just go where they call me. I retrieve the soul and take it to the gates. I have not been through the gates myself since that first day of afterwards. But that is okay, that place gives me the creeps. There is so much power radiating from everything in there. I feel so small and insignificant. I can't stand that feeling.

I walk along the path in Central Park. My wings graze the leaves on the trees. The living mistaking their movement for the nonexistent wind.

"Death," the whisper calls. It's the voice of a girl. I follow it and as it gets louder and louder the closer I get. The voice is almost screaming when I reach the hospital. I slip through the door and walk along the hallways until I come to a door where the voice is wailing from. I step inside the room and find a teenage girl on the bed with various tubes sticking out of her. A teenage boy sits next to her, clutching her hand and crying. He is begging her to wake up, but she won't. I walk up to the bed and the boy's head snaps up. He grabs her body and pulls her close.

"Don't take her," he whispers. "Please." I bite my lip, I must not listen. I reach my hand out slowly towards her hand. "No!" He shouts. He moves her hand. I freeze. How did he know I was going to her hand? The living can't see me. I turn towards him.