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    Wolffang
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Kiss of Death - 2. Escape

Azrael P.O.V

A few hours later...

We're laying in the passage leading up to the living room with our backs to the floor, feet against the wall, staring at the vast negatively built space of the ceiling.

“So if you're the God of Death, does that mean you're here to capture my soul? Am I going to die?”, he ask nervously.

“Not exactly .More like I'm here to look after it.'', I state.

“Why?”, he questions curiously.

“That's classified. I can't answer that.”, I reply cooly.

I doubt it'd be important for him to know. I mean it sure as hell would be a lot easier that way.What he doesn't know won't kill him right?

“Okay. Am I really stuck with you?”, he asks apprehensively, raising an eyebrow.

“Yep.”, I sigh throwing a ball against the wall and catching it in a repetitive, monotonous motion.

“Okay. For how long?”, he queries.

“Dunno.”, I state simply

“Why me?”, he probes.

That's a good question. To be fair. I don't really get what's so special about him anyway. The other Gods must have a screw loose or something. Looking at this kid he seems pretty average. Besides his looks there's nothing extraordinary about him.

“That's classified too.”, I sigh.

"Were you know serious about the whole wish thing?”, he endeavours.

"Nope, it was just a joke.”, I state

"Not a very funny one.”, he remarks.

“So when people die, where do they go?”, he asks.

“It depends.”, I word simply

“On what?”, he looks over at me.

All these questions are really starting to annoy the living shit out of me.

“Do you ever stop talking?”, I say with slight frustration.

“Do you blame me?”, He watches my reaction carefully.

“I knew you couldn't resist my appeal. No human can.”, I chuckle.

Besides being easy on the eyes, every other mortal is dying to meet me. Quite literally in some cases. I can't help being ostracized and famed for who I am. Everyone is fascinated with my being. I am the inevitable. The things most people would do to have this same conversation with me.

“No. I still think you're a Megala-douche and I don't think it's an appeal, more so an eventuality. I doubt they have a choice in the matter.”, he explains.

I wasn't expecting that. What’s wrong with this kid. It’s almost like my charms have no affect on him.

“So what are we doing exactly?”, I question

“Just talking.", he remarks.

“Why?”, I ask. He's so odd.

“To get to know you better. I don't like strangers in my house but you said I'm stuck with you.”, he shrugs

I say nothing, just staring at him with confusion.

“I didn't say it's a great plan.”, he says a little embarrassed, ”I mean… It makes me feel more at ease and I figured if you’re going to be staying with me, I might as well try to get to know you.”

“Who said I'm staying here?”. Although I don't plan to. I entertain the idea. It would make my job a whole lot easier.

“Well do you have anywhere else to go?”, he asks with a concerned face .

“No”, I reply.

“Do you have any money?”, he says cockily

“No, but that's not the point.”, I retort. A little infuriated.

“Oh really, so the point is that you don't have anyway of taking care of yourself and you expect me to just let you walk out the door to God knows where.”, he says in one breath, "You can sleep on the couch.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”, I watch him carefully.

“Not sure. It’s not that you deserve it or anything. I guess it's just in my nature. If I'm able to help, I’d never turn down a person in need and besides if you are who you say you are, It'd be wrong to turn a God to the streets… even if he is a man-whore.”, he smiles to himself.

That's a low blow. I feel winded. Nevertheless, I think I see what they're talking about. He’s too pure for this world. His soul burns a distinctly vibrant purple, like a field of lavender in a violet haze. I feel bad for being so harsh with him when he's done nothing but show me kindness.

“It's relative.”, I whisper barely audible

“What is?”, he watches me curiously.

“Where people go. It depends on how they perceive the afterlife to be. I don't know much beyond that. My job is only to guide lost souls and those that have passed on.”, I explain.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”, he smiles.

“For what?”, I say in a confused manner.

“Telling me. I know you didn’t have to, especially to human like me.”, He laughs beautifully, smiling with his eyes. They shine brilliantly, full of life. I’m almost jealous.

If only he knew. I doubt he's like any of the others at all and that's what scares me the most. He's like a walking target which will make my job a lot harder.

Suddenly the air becomes noticeably thicker. The lights begin to flicker. Something feels wrong.

“Shush.”, I command placing a finger on his lips. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion .

“Do you hear that”, I say in a low whisper.

He shakes his head in response.

The door explodes followed by the sound of broken glass from the adjacent rooms.

An ugly gargoyle looking creature with thick leathery skin emerges, snarling viciously. Another materializes from the kitchen and two others from the bedroom.

“Shit!”, I exclaim grabbing his hand and pulling him up.

“What is that?!?”, he panics.

“Chimeras.”, I state, producing my scythe.

I drag him out the living room and onto the scaffolding, forcing our way through the living room, breaking the window in the process.

“Fuck!”, I yell as I notice more scaling up the sides , “Does this building have a rooftop?!?”.

“Yeah!”, he yells.

I pull him up and onto the roof . Night has fallen. The wind shudders with the electric air of the city. Light dots about like little neon flowers.

The creatures propel themselves upwards and onto the roof, almost surrounding us on both sides. They force us backwards till my foot feels the empty air beneath it. One wrong step will take us of the edge.

“What now”, he shouts against the sound of the city.

“There are too many to fight.”, I exclaim whilst noticing the 20 something story drop behind us. “Do you trust me?!?!”.

“Yeah. I think so.”, he nods.

“Now is not the time for second guesses. It’s a yes or no answer. Do you trust me?”, I plead.

He connects our gaze and nods slowly, “I do.”

“Good. Take my hand!”, I yell.

As he does I pull him into me, wrapping my arms around him as tight as possible before diving off the edge.

Copyright © 2019 Wolffang; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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