savior

seven

DAY FOUR; TWENTY SEVEN DAYS TO GO

Later that night, I got a visit. Death had barged in through the front door of my apartment, looked around for a few seconds, and made his way to my room. I sat alone at the table with my dinner when he came. I quickly scrambled up from the wooden table, and ran down the hallway to my bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. Death sat upon my dresser, looking at his hands, and adjusting his killer rings. "You can't be here! What if my mom or my—"

"Calm down, Princess," Death instructed. I shut up. Seconds later he began to yell. "THEY CAN'T HEAR OR SEE ME ANYWAYS! HELLO! I'M DEATH AND I'M CURRENTLY STANDING IN YOUR DAUGHTER'S ROOM SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS!"

I was mortified. He just looked at me with a blank face. "What's wrong with you?" I asked in horror. If my mom or Kaitlynn saw him, I have no idea what would happen. I'd probably be grounded for life for allowing an older looking man to stand in my room, and with the door closed.

No one came.

"See? You're fine," Death stated. I rolled my blue eyes at him. Then I took a seat on my bed.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" I asked. There was no need for him to just walk in here with no explanation or reason. He was being a nuisance.

Death let out an evil chuckle, one you'd expect to be used in a horror film. He still scared the crap out of me.

"I was just wondering how the plan is working out. Have you figured out how to save him yet?"

He continued to mess with his rings. I'm not even going to lie: when I said nothing scared me, I was wrong, because Death made my skin crawl every time I was near him. I mean, maybe that's normal. He is Death, after all. That was his job. But I still didn't like it. The less time I had to spend next to him, the better.

"Uh, it's going alright. We're acquainted, at least. He let me take him out for ice cream today, and I drove him to school yesterday, but that's about it," I explained, and Death nodded his head. "I don't really have a clue how to make him my friend."

Death slid off the dresser. Then he started to caress my face with his large hands. I shivered at his cold, rare touch.

"I'll see what I can do to help you. I've got a few friends that may be interested," he said after he let me go. "Spend as much time as you can with him. We'll see what happens then."

"Why do you want to help me?"

Death let out another laugh, but this one was louder and more evil. He started to cry from laughing hard. His tears weren't actually real tears, but little droplets of blood, like he had been pricked in the eye with a thorn. I looked around the room, trying to keep my eyes on something other than his not-real eyes, and not-real tears.

"I don't want to help you. I'm helping myself. Well, helping myself to enjoy this," he said, which left me looking at him with confusion.

When I didn't question him, he released a sigh.

"Do you really think you're going to save this boy? I'm not Future, but I can definitely tell you that you will not have one. You're not going to succeed, Regan Armel. Not if I have anything to do with it."

He began to bellow in laughter again, but seconds into this laugh, he vanished.

I was all alone again. And this time, I was very confused.