Part One - Rome, Italy - 1667

        The night air is crisp and chill, biting at my skin as I casually walk Rome’s empty streets. I keep my head down and my hands tucked in my cloak, watching clouds of dust erupt from my feet with each step I take. The less suspicious I appear, all the better. I’m not too fond of Rome as it is, and I’d really rather not reap poor souls that happen to wander out tonight while I’m on the prowl.

 And to make my foul mood even worse, the entire city smells like shit and rotten food.

  “Are you sure we’re heading the right way, my lord?”

I glance down at Avner, my newly assigned page, and feel a surge of sympathy for the boy. I remember how completely frightened I was on my first reaping. Collecting souls isn’t a pleasant job to begin with, and when you’re trembling with nerves it’s even less enjoyable.  

  “N-Not that I’m doubting you or anything, my lord, b-but I…” Avner stumbles over his words as well as his feet, nearly falling head first into a pile of rubbish.

  “Come now, Avner, calm down, won’t you?” I grip the boy by the scruff of his collar and stand him up straight, squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “We’ve been over this before. You’ve been trained. I’ve seen you myself and you can reap like the best of them. So just clear your mind and focus on the task at hand.”

  Avner nods, his dark curly hair falling into his eyes. From the glow of the moon overhead I can see that his face is starch white, his lips twisted in an unpleasant expression. I’ve seen the same look before, which is usually followed by a good vomit.

  Young Avner here is not the first person I’ve trained before, and he wouldn’t be the first to fall ill.

  I say a quick prayer that this job is done and over with as quickly as possible and pull Avner along, ducking into a narrow alleyway that leads into a wealthier section of the city.

  “My lord, isn’t the soul we’re reaping very prominent in the city?” Avner asks as we walk swiftly.

  “Very,” I answer briskly. “Diplomat. Deals with politics, renovation of the city, that sort of thing. Great nephew of Innocent XI.”

  “Right,” Avner says. “But…but why are we reaping him?”

“That would be because of God’s will, Avner.”

 The boy stares up at me in confusion.

 “The man is ill. Very ill.”

“Oh.”

  Doubts begin to resurface about this boy in my mind. Didn’t the Council test him thoroughly to make sure he can do the job before handing him over to me?

  It would not be the first time that has happened, either, but it’s too late to contemplate any mistakes the Council may have made at the moment.

      We walk in silence for several more minutes, thankfully remaining out of sight of any wandering eyes. When the Allegretti estate comes into view, in all its turreted and stonewalled glory, I hold out a hand and catch Avner in the chest, stopping him.

  “This is it.”

 Avner examines our surroundings and makes some sort of choking noise.

  “Very posh, isn’t it?”

“I’ve seen better. Now, are you ready for this?” I grip the front of the boy’s shirt and force him to look at me. “Because the moment we step inside there’s no going back. You reap the man’s soul and we leave. Am I perfectly understood?”

  Avner nods quickly, eyes widening. “Y-Yes, my lord, perfectly understood.”

I release his shirt and take a step back.

  I’m not at all convinced by his answer, but at the very least he’s attempting bravado.

   Half a second later we are standing in a stiflingly warm chamber. The overpowering scents of incense and herbs, potions and medicinal remedies, assault my nose.

   We are definitely in the right place. This is most certainly the chamber of a dying man.

In the corner there is a large grate full of crackling flames, the only source of illumination in the entire chamber. I can make out the shape of a bulky, overstuffed bed, the silhouette of a figure slumped against a mountain of pillows.

  I draw in a breath and feel around for other souls, any sign that there’s a chance we might be interrupted.

   Slow, even breathing echoes from several of the occupants of the household. If we work quickly, we should have no problem.

  I look down to Avner and clap him on the shoulder, gesture towards the bed.

“You know what to do.”

  Avner nods and takes a few hesitant steps forward, his legs shaking beneath his weight. I move to stand at the fireplace and watch Avner’s performance. If he does well, then I may just have another Reaper under my command. There can never have too many Reapers in my line of business.

   Avner finally reaches Alfonso Allegretti’s bedside and bends down, reaching out a trembling hand towards the man’s chest. A touch of the palm over the heart, one quick saying in Hebrew, and the job is done.

  I listen intently as Avner begins to mutter the saying, checking if he’s pronouncing the words correctly.

  “Father, are you awake? I’ve brought you some stew, I know you said – “

The door to the chamber opens, followed by the light of a candelabrum, casting light on the figure of a young woman carrying in a tray of food.

  I’ve barely made a step forward in attempts to block Avner from view, to let him finish the reaping, when the tray of food and the candelabrum fall to the floor with a clatter and the young woman opens her mouth and screams.

  Oh, God in Heaven, I groan.

With a flick of my wrist the flames in the grate are extinguished, bathing the chamber in pitch darkness.

  I step on the candelabrum as I none too gently clap a hand over the young woman’s mouth and force her against the wall, blocking a slap she tries to aim at my face.

  “Oh, I really would stop that if I were you,” I tell the young woman, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. “You don’t wish to wake anyone else in the house, do you?”

 The woman narrows her eyes, a challenging look coming over her face.

I have to admit this is a first.

 Most people take off running in the opposite direction shrieking like a banshee whenever they see me.

  Somehow I get the notion that this girl is not like the other humans I’ve interacted with before.

  “My lord,” Avner calls from Alfonso’s bedside. “What shall we do?”

 That’s a very good question.

  Leaving this house without Alfonso’s soul is not an option. Yet if I release this girl, obviously his daughter, she’ll raise Hell and try to have me hanged. Not that that would do anything to me, of course, but I’d still rather not have to reap souls because mass amounts of people saw the Angel of Death.

  My first thought is to simply kill the girl and leave. It would save me a whole load of trouble. But the thought that she simply stepped in at the wrong time, that she doesn’t deserve to have her life ended over something as trivial as that, stops me from moving my hand to her throat.

 So I’ll settle for erasing her memory.

   “Finish the reaping and then leave,” I finally tell Avner. “Quickly.”

“But – “

  “Do as I say, Avner. And speak to no one about what you’ve seen.”

 “Very well, my lord.”

I open the chamber door and drag the girl out into the corridor, my hand still covering her mouth. Focusing on the other souls in the household, I decide to head in the opposite direction of where everyone is, to the left.

  And a moment later it becomes perfectly clear that this girl is not going to be compliant at all. She struggles against my grasp, kicking and clawing, her shouting muffled against the palm of my hand. Halfway down a wide set of stairs I’m partially convinced I should just forgo trying to erase her memory and snap her neck here and now just to save myself the trouble.

   “I don’t make it a habit to kill young women like yourself, but I’ll do what I have to if you don’t stop fighting me,” I caution the girl.

  In response, the girl digs her teeth into my hand.

I wrench open the first door I can reach and shove the girl inside, shutting the door swiftly behind me as I follow after her.

  It just so happens that I threw the girl into the kitchen, a very large stone room with pots hanging from the ceiling, food strewn about the counters. Another fire is roaring in the grate, much brighter than the one in Alfonso’s chamber.

  What I had not been expecting was to see the girl bathed in light, to take in the sight of her.

  There is no mistaking that I’m old. Very old, nearing a thousand years. But in all my time walking Earth never have I seen a girl like this.

  She stands tall and proud, shoulders thrown back, head held high, chin jutting out, the nightdress she’s wearing hinting at subtle curves. Her hair is long, blonde, pulled back in a mess of tangled curls and braids. Her skin is smooth, pale, her facial features soft in a gentle sort of way.

  And she is completely and unequivocally the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

“Who are you?” I ask before I can stop myself, taking an unintentional step forward.

 The girl moves, much quicker than I thought possible, and grabs a knife off a chopping block, points it at me. Her hand is steady, but her voice is trembling when she speaks.

“I think that question is better reserved for me, wouldn’t you agree? Who are you?”

  This has never happened before.

Why is this girl interrogating me instead of running off screaming?

   “Who I am is of no import.” I snatch the knife from the girl and chuck to the side. It lands several feet away on the floor with a loud clatter. “And I ask the questions, not you. Tell me your name.”

  She sucks in a breath and turns away, glaring defiantly into the crackling fire.

“Lucrezia Allegretti.”

 “Alfonso’s daughter.”

“Yes,” she snaps, turning on me, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “How do you know my father? And better yet, what in God’s name were you doing in his chamber? Were you going to kill him? Rob us of our fortune? Were you – “

I cut her off, taking another step forward. She takes an even larger step back.

 “I fail to see how any of this is your business.”

Lucrezia Allegretti narrows her eyes at me, a look of pure loathing taking over her face.

“My family is my business.”

If I had a family I might be able to respect that. If I were even human I might be able to sympathize more with her, since she is obviously upset about her father.

 I am not human, however.

I don’t know if I’ve ever even been human to begin with. When you’re as old as I am, time doesn’t seem quite as vital as it is to others. I’ve seen no purpose in retaining my human memories, the physical sensations caused by emotion.

 “So,” Lucrezia says, taking a step forward. “Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

 When I open my mouth to reply, I very nearly spill the truth. The words bubble to my lips before I can stop them, an explanation for what just occurred.

 Somehow I manage to force the words back, although it proves an almost herculean effort.

  “I am no one,” I say, speaking much harsher than I intended. “You will forget ever seeing me and my student. You will have no memory of what has just occurred.”

 This is why I dragged Lucrezia Allegretti into the kitchen in the first place – to erase her memory. Hesitation on my part is not allowed. I am already letting her live, an unforgivable act anyways.

  I move towards her, hand outstretched to touch her forehead. Instead of backing away like I expected, Lucrezia steps forward to meet me, a sudden brazen expression on her face.

  The way her hypnotizing blue eyes are watching my every slight movement is making me uneasy. This is unnatural. Humans aren’t supposed to be this attentive.

  “Something is wrong with you,” Lucrezia says shrewdly, glaring up at me. “You’re not…normal.”

  My instinct is screaming at me to just erase her memory and flee before she can deduce anything else about me.

  But for some reason unbeknownst to me, I just stand there with a stupefied expression.

“I beg your pardon?”

  Lucrezia laughs loudly and sarcastically.

“You’re insane, aren’t you? Well, of course, you’d probably have to be to even think about breaking into this household. You know, I could just start screaming and not a moment later guards will be here to drag you off and have you beheaded.”

 Death threats being served to the Angel of Death? Most certainly unheard of.

“I would assume so,” I say coolly. “But you won’t.”

Lucrezia’s hard expression turns to indignation. “Oh, I won’t, will I?”

 “No. You won’t. Because with just a twitch of my hand I’ll break your pretty little neck and your guards will find nothing but a corpse in here.”

 To prove my point, my fingers close around her throat firmly, yet not enough to truly choke her.

  “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with then?” she spits at me. “Or are you all of making a show and not following through?”

 “Do not test me. I guarantee you will not like the consequences.”

“Oh, I believe I will keep at it. It is so entertaining.”

By this time I realize I’ve pushed Lucrezia up against the wall beside the fire grate, our proximity much greater than I thought.

  “Well?” Lucrezia arches an eyebrow, a challenging expression on her face. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

   I don’t think I’ll ever know what makes me release my grip on her throat. There are thousands of reasons, possibly, reasons that won’t make sense and reasons that might return to haunt me.

  My attention snaps to the door when I hear thundering footsteps outside in the hall, loud shouting and cursing.

  I’ve run out of time.

I touch two fingers to Lucrezia’s forehead. She immediately crumples to the ground in a dead faint. I hesitate for a moment, staring down at her, then swiftly disappear out the side door.

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   This was just an idea that popped into my mind one day, and I thought hey, why not share Death's story? Everybody likes Death. Y'know, the character. :)

  Anyways, I'm still going to be working on Face Your Fears - don't worry - but I'll also be writing pieces for this, as well. It won't be very long, but I'm definitely going to LOVE writing this. 

Soooo....let me know what you guys think! :)  comments and votes are always very much appreciated, thanks!