Skin and Bones (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Three

[Death's POV]

"Who disturbs this halfway realm of death? Who dares to approach the harbinger..." I asked letting my voice roll out into the seemingly empty woods, directed towards the young mortal that stood before me. So close to me, willingly close to me. A bizarre thing.

The leaves shivered around me as the breeze trickled through the trees and their chatter was the only sound as I waited in silence for the mortal to reply.

He had dirty blond hair and dark blue-grey eyes, lithe in form but not lacking any muscle. Twenty-three years old, his birthday was yesterday, his time of death still undetermined. He was old for a man having a date of death still yet to be decided. A strange thing, smelled like artificial fruit and whiskey.

The sounds of the forest stilled as I spoke, and I stood growing taller and more imposing in front of him in the deathly quiet of the dark tall trees. The gravestone I had been sitting upon falling away beneath my height, disappearing beneath me, cloaked in my darkness.

I glared down at him.

The strange little mortal looked back up at me.

Now I would never blame someone for not acknowledging a glare of mine, the angels never recognised any facial expressions I thought I was expressing, and that was a matter of course because I didn't actually have a face. I was made of bones and matter, there was no skin, no cartilage.

But that was exactly why it was strange, it almost seemed as though he was looking me directly in my eyes.... His head was tilted back fully to look up at my extended form and those big blue eyes watched me, almost naively, without the slightest hint of fear.

Or perhaps there was some, there was the slightest scent of fear lingering in the air, however it didn't seem like enough. I warranted more.

I didn't care, of course, I didn't need him to be frightened. But it was highly suspicious of the fact that he wasn't. What sort of short-lived mortal dared to look Death in the eye and not pause a moment in fright.

I shifted, taking one long step forwards, slowly, my form floating as though I were suspended in water, the frayed edges of my black cloak rippling behind me and flowing out in waves. I settling in front of him, looking down at him even closer, allowing the black fog I controlled to expand and fill out into the surrounding area.

It would be dark for him now, more and more of his vision obscured by the impossible darkness I had conjured around him. Dark and cold.

Be afraid. I urged. Show me your fear.

Would his fear taste sweet like syrup or bitter like vines? Would his eyes dilate and his heart beat faster, his hair raise on its ends, goose-bumps scatter over his skin... Would those big blue eyes get any wider, dazed, horrified, filled with the sickness, the disease of paralysing fear.

"Wow," He exclaimed, his voice not loud but unmoderated in volume. "That's really cool," His hand moved through the thick black fog and his hand sank inside, past my barrier, to press up against my chest.

"How do you do that?" He asked, smiling innocently, a slight glow to that perfect complexion.

I stared at him. It had been an exceptionally long time since I had felt that feeling, an exceedingly long time. So long that it took me several moments to recognise the feeling. I was in a state of surprise. A shiver of shock making its way down my body. Something that Death himself should never be able to feel. I blinked slowly. An emotion that was human in nature, pointless and did no good. So, with all the wisdom of almost an eternity of hard and disciplined work I removed the shock from myself, siphoning it off into the void inside my strange incomplete soul and I squinted down at him.