On Borrowed Time

Chapter 31

Sam's stomach was hurting again.  He clutched in pain as he rolled around in his sleep.  He got on his hands and knees as he began to vomit.  This was the third time he vomited in four hours.  He was sure it was a bug of some kind, but he wished it would pass already so he can enjoy his immortality again.  It smelled like digested pears and dry lion meat.  He thought the combination was what made him sick.  He made a mental note to not eat those two again.  If he gets a chance to find more lion, that is.  

After the contents of his stomach found its way onto the dry land, he wiped his mouth and attempted to lay on his back.  The sky had a reddish hue as the sun tried to rise.  He's been in agony for a week now and throwing-up since last night.  His head has been pounding as the voices grew louder overnight as well, almost in time with his stomach deciding to release its contents.  They sounded excited.  

What's he supposed to do?  He can't keep anything down now.  He couldn't even drink his water without having the threaten of having it come back up.  All he wanted to do was sleep and hope he feels better soon.  

Sam opened his eyes a few hours later and instantly clutched his stomach in pain.  It felt like it was getting worse.  The voices kept getting louder, putting him on the verge of screaming.  

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming towards him.  He tried to sit up so he could get a better view, and potentially defend himself.  However, his attempts is futile and he could only end up sitting.  He winced in pain, keeping his head down as his stranger began to approach.  The voices grew louder with each step.  

The footsteps stopped in front of him.  He saw a black shadowy cloak standing before him.  He raised his head to get a better look. He was in disbelief with what he saw and thought he was dreaming or too dizzy from his sickness.  

The figure's face was hiding behind a black cloak that seemed two sizes larger than the actual body.  It's heavy breathing was sending shivers down his spine.  This was the form I decided to present myself before the hollow shell left of Sam Gutso.

"The hell are... are you supposed to be?"  He asked between grunts.  "Some really bad ghost?"

I stayed silent.  

"Did... you just get out of the shower?"

"Mr. Gutso.  I believe you already know who I am."  My voice was raspy to match how I presented myself.

His face went paler, but I think it was from his illness instead of fear.  He dry heaved as he weakly stated, "Death."

"That's correct."

"I get the feeling this isn't a social call..."

"Correct."

"Then stop- being so distant!  Why are you here?"

"It's simple, Mr. Gutso.  I'm here to watch you die."

Sam smiled weakly.  "You'll have a - long time to wait for that.  You know... Being immortal."

"There, Mr. Gutso, is where you're wrong."  He clenched his jaw when I mentioned that.  "You have been given an extended life because of your theft.  The sands did calculate a much longer lifespan.  However, they can't factor in everything. In this instant, they didn't factor your change in diet including little protein, and undercooked, tainted meat.  According to my calculations, you have 4 hours left in your pathetic life."

"That meat - was- perfect!"

"If that was the case, I wouldn't be here, now would I?"  

He messed with the dirt for a little bit before he spoke up.  "So, I must've - peaked your interest then, huh?"