Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 17: Small World

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            I was conflicted as I waited for my taxi outside of the D & S Towers.

            The version of Death that I kept seeing in my memories was not a creature to fear. He was gentle, sweet, and kind, and I couldn't help but think those memories were fake or implanted in my mind on purpose to think of him differently. Death had protected Little Faith from a demon in my first flashback, then came to her rescue in the second when she called on him. He had treated that little girl like she was his own child.

            There was no way Death thought of me now as his daughter. Right?

            My stomach churned in a sickly dance.

                        Was if I was interpreting the memories he had taken away from me all wrong? Was Death's nice act to Little Faith a way for him to figure out why she was so special? Why he had saved her?

            I couldn't even imagine Death acting the same way towards me in the present. Tender and forgiving? Protective? Never. Even when he had kissed me, it had been rough and passionless. Or maybe it had been full of passion? No...

            Death was the enemy.

            And he was driving me crazy.

            There was something on the tip of my tongue. Something that had to be said out loud about my situation, something apparent... something that would break me of an endless moment of uncertainty and unrelenting fear. I was incapable of saying that something, and it wasn't because I didn't want to say it, it was because I literally couldn't say it. It was like a road block in my mind that forced me to think an entirely different way. An external force, guiding me down a certain path with a gun to my spine. This wasn't the first time I had felt that way.

            I was soaked with rain again, unaffected by the downpour because I was so deep in thought. I also liked the rain. It always made me feel like I was washing something away when its pellets hit my skin; starting over.

            That was when the rain began to die down.

            I stepped away from the edge of the curb, looking up at the D & S Towers and their large, tinted windows, disorienting myself by focusing on the way the rain splattered against the two enormous structures. Then my gaze slid down to the tinted window in front of me, and I nearly had a heart attack at what I saw what was in the reflection.

            I slowly turned away from the window.

            There, on the opposite side of a street, stood a black cloaked figure amongst a hoard of running pedestrians trying to escape the rain. The figure stood so motionless against the pelting rain and wind that it was as if he were set in bronze. Him. I knew it was male, I didn't know if it was a man. But who was he? It wasn't Death. This hooded guy's physique was smaller than Death's. He was leaner instead of bulkier, and he sure as heck didn't have a scythe.

            When a car rushed past the hooded figure on the street, he was gone.

            Did Death have someone following me?