You can't escape Death <Frans>

CHAPTER 21: Ignorance

Death's eyes wandered through the blank abyss he had come used to calling home. His emotionless stare gazed upon the many dead things that surrounded him, and encased him in a futile lock of dread. The elysian view of the world to him was all nothingness now, dissipated within arm's reach of touching the creative quadrant of his right brain. Or did Death even have a brain? Are his lack of emotions such a cause of his air-headedness? Or was it the ignorance of his perspective of the world he perceived?

Nonetheless, anyone could see the old skeleton as such a fool. From the choices he made, to the foolish ideals of hatred, they always came back around to bite him back.

Death sat there, waiting. Waiting for something, anything, to bring him about something to do. He enjoyed sitting around, however, he did not get to do it much. With how much he had to do for most of his time, sitting around made him grow antsy, as if a feeling of forgetfulness washed over him. He could not remember what he had to do, and this only made his mind wander into the depths of apprehension. Thus, this only made him fill with a sudden drapetomani.

Wandering through the desolate woodlands, yet another soul had ventured too far out of it's course of Life, thus ending the path to where they were headed. Heading this far into the land of the dead, the bright soul grew weak and sick; the brightness it once held diminished into a low, melancholy tone.

It was a small soul, with small potential, and Death had wondered why it had come to him, and not his brother. Such a small soul should have had the incapability of fighting his grip to pull them so heartlessly into the netherworld, and such a naive mind should be able to be tricked by Papyrus' hand.

So why had it come to him? Was such an insignificant soul really prepared to fight his grip to stay in the mortal realm?

Nevertheless, Death had spread his wings, prepared to meet the soul in the location of where it had been summoned, and to his surprise, this soul was not at the border of Life and Death.

In reality, Death's soul grew heavy, and a piece of him drew weak once more, as yet another innocent soul had to be slain by his hand. It was not their time to go, and yet, humans still remained the same—killing each other in cold blood as if their own kind meant nothing to them at all. Death's soul grew weaker and weaker with each innocent soul's death.

Compared to him, the soul seemed even smaller in comparison to his own soul, a large one, devoid of all known to man. He swallowed hard, knowing what had to be done, as he raised his scythe once again for the last time this day. He attempted to calm the soul, for he could see the sudden fear in its glow, as it drew weaker and weaker in his presence. However, the soul tried to run, running away back toward the gates of the mortal realm. But what the little soul did not know, it that once you cross the line between Life and Death, there was no returning back into the realm of the Living. All hope was lost once the Reaper had found your soul, once your time had come.

Death attempted to stop the soul, however, the weakness of her only caused it to slow down, and Death grabbed the soul suddenly with his bare hand. The soul stuttered and shook, feeling itself being reduced to mere atoms, and tearing apart into ash. She crumbled to dust merely seconds later, all but nothingness now as Death stared in disbelief.

Never had he been placed inside of a corner to where he would have to use his own curse to reap the soul of an innocent, and he was horrified at the result of the said action.

A faint whisper of the last memory played inside of the feeble human's mind as their eyes in the mortal realm now hung lifeless inside of their skull. It was so sweet and innocent, the last memory of someone they had cherished and loved, before being dragged here by their own kind.

"I brought you flowers!" The echoed voice of the human girl whispered through his ignorant skull as the soul now lied on the dusty ground, nothing but ash and particles. "Now you have no choice but to get better!" Her voice was gentle and caring, and it almost reminded him of Frisk in such a way. "What are you doing?! Get away from me!"

However, the last memory that played, Death payed no attention to. For he had listened to at least a hundred that day alone, and he no longer cared about eh last few seconds of the mortal's life.

"Let ME SEE MY BEST FRIEND!"

And it was at that point, Death was not thinking. Absent-mindedly reaping the souls that came to him with no thought at all, because it was merely everyday life for him, as ironic as it may seem. A monster with a Life, with no Life at all.

"You're LYING!"

And here marks the end of the happy ending Death had in store for the balance of the world, through his decision alone, for merely being.. himself, in a sense. His fingers, the weapon of death, curled around his scythe, the weapon of despair. Both of which held great power beyond what no one could have ever imagined.

"NO!"

With that, Death checked the time, looking up at the position of the stars. He squinted, eyeing where in fact the brightest star from the quadrant he was in had laid. It was time to meet the successor of Life.

And with that, he spread his winds once more, and took off into the desolate sky of despair, completely,

and utterly,

ignorant.