Short Stories - 1. The Death of Love

Since I can remember, I have been in danger. It started when I survived a baby rattlesnake curling up in my crib as a baby. How it got there, no one could figure out. My parents freaked out, the snake was removed, and that was that.

My next brush with death was when I was three years old, in our family pool. Learn to swim early, my mother said. Apparently learning to swim meant learning not to swallow half the pool water. I was saved by a quick neighbour from that death.

Things only got worse from there. A car crash when I was five, a tornado destroying our house days later; someone wanted me dead. And I was too young to realize it at the time.

The stress of keeping me alive wore at my parents, and they separated when I was nine. Coincidentally, that’s the same year I made a new friend, Spencer. He, at least, was not afraid to play rough with me, the danger girl. We wrestled, hunted black widows in the yard, dangerous things like that. He almost seemed to encourage my recklessness.

And when we turned twelve and certain strange urges awoke in us, it was Spencer who asked me to be his girlfriend.

He became almost gentle with me. Disaster still struck, almost daily, but through it all, Spencer stood with me.

And now here we stood, fourteen years old, Spencer sharing his “darkest secret” with me in the shelter of our treehouse.

“You are Death. Right...” I laughed. “So, what, are you here to kill me?”

“I was,” Spencer said. “But it wasn’t working. So, here I am. Asking you this time. I want you to be mine, to be with me forever.”

This was ridiculous. I had known Spencer forever. If he was Death, he could have killed me a hundred times over.

“Not even a werewolf or a vampire. Just plain Death.”

I was not impressed.

“I can be both, for you.”

Fur suddenly sprouted from Spencer’s body, drawing a surprised yelp from me. Fangs dropped from his mouth, wicked sharp and gleaming.

“Holy fuck! You’re serious!”

The wolf vampire Spencer smirked.

“You could say I am… deadly serious.”

Despite the clear danger, I had to roll my eyes. That was classic Spencer.

“There is not much I can offer you. You would be the Queen of Death, wandering the world, reaping souls with me. You would be immortal, but first, you will have to die. I can’t promise will be painless, but I can promise to be by your side, forever.”

“Reaping souls? Do I get a scythe and all that?”

Death grinned, the same smile I had grown to love seeing all these years.

“If you wish. Personally, I prefer a flaming longsword.”

The blade materialized as he said the words, and it was indeed flaming.

“That is so cool…”

A werewolf Death wielding a flaming longsword? It was beyond cool, and in typical fourteen year old fashion, I had made my decision.

“I’ll do it.”