Kiss of Death - Prologue. Premonition

Sometimes I sit, surrounded by this great life, friends and family who care about me and I can't help thinking that I have everything I need except one thing.

Truth be told, I wasn't the most popular guy in school. Sure I was moderately entertaining and could fit into the “cool” crowd if I wanted too, but they were never really my niche and I'm glad it happened that way otherwise I probably would’ve killed myself.

Let's be real, the booze, the drugs, the parties, the pressure to always look good and not to mention the girls. Not that I was very successful in that department but let's just say I like my girls with a little chest and a little something more between their legs if you catch my drift.

Yada, yada, yada, I'm sure you get the just. Let’s save the sad melancholic back story for another time.

So, I was sitting there on the eve of my 20th birthday, thinking to myself, am I destined to be the funny side character of my own story, stuck in a perpetual cycle of comic relief, never amounting to anything more but the ‘funny nice friend'. Do I not deserve a love story of my own?

Sometimes I just wish there was someone out there for me, you know… Just some reassurance that somewhere in the world, someone would want to love me, someone who wants to do the whole death do us part, ride of into the sunset and have 2 and a half children with me or however, it goes.

I verbally sigh as I hit the delete button on my journal entry.

I’m so pathetic.

With that thought, I plop down in my bed and drift asleep.

I'm floating, piercing white invades my vision melting away in decreased intensity to produce a particular scene in front of me, trickling downwards to unfurl more vibrant, inexorable colours, contrasting heavily with the figure draped in heavy, black stained, garments.

I feel as though I am intruding on something surreal.

The figure stands at a podium in a coliseum type space, shackled to the ground.

“How do you plead?”, a voice booms across the relatively empty space.

“Not guilty.”, responds a distinctly male voice, tilting his head upwards to gaze at the open air.

“Azrael, the evidence clearly points in one direction and one direction only. We are going to ask you again. How do you plead?!?”, this time harboring a hint of annoyance.

“To be fair...”, he elaborates, vivaciously gesturing while he speaks, ” How was I supposed to know that I wasn't supposed to use my abilities in that way?”

“You are the God of Death, how could you not?”, the voice retorts, ensnared by frustration.

I almost feel sorry for him. I mean everyone makes mistakes, even Gods right?

“Fine. I plead guilty.”, the man states coldly.

“As punishment for this and using your Godly status to manipulate humans for your own sexual benefit, you shall be relieved of your duties which shall be temporarily overtaken by us. You shall be sent to earth to repent. Your powers will be limited and please for the love of everything that’s good, Azrael, take this as an opportunity to learn something, better yourself. In fact, to ensure this, we're going to assign you with a mission to oversee a certain human.”, it explains.

“Thank you, your honor.”, his hood slips off and I can clearly see his shit-eating grin.

Suddenly I think my empathy was lost somewhere between those obnoxious pearly whites.

“Stupid Greater Gods thinking they know better.”, he whispers.

“We can still hear you. The court is adjourned unless you want us to instill a harsher sentence?”, the voice threatens.

“No. This one's alright thank you.”, he responds fearfully quickly, “The last was bloody awful.“

He shudders at the memory.

“Good, now make yourself scarce.”, the voice pauses, "And Azrael, it is in your best interest to maintain close proximity to the human. A certain lead has stated that there are particular, unsavory, patrons that have an interest in him.“, it commands.

“That's it?”, the man questions sarcastically, "Aren’t you going to give me a name or address or you know even the blood type will suffice because that's far less vague?”

“Very well”, the voice states, "Leandro Griffin”.

Did he just say my name?

Before I'm able to compile my thoughts, I'm wrenched back into my room, awakening in a cold sweat.

I'm glad it was only a dream.