Death's Scythe

[Mairzy Doats]

He might as well get this over with. The flesh on his hand was gray and puckery and had the texture of a rotten tomato. Flaps of skin hung down and got in his way when he tried to do things like eat, and worse than that, it itched. He had to get rid of it.

Taylor sat in the bathroom, on a stool next to the bathtub, a bucket between his skeleton knees. The man was in his sleeping attire, which consisted of a pair of boxers and that was it. He followed the rotten flesh and found it ended just at the shoulder, so this was where Taylor started to peel. Perhaps "peel" is a misleading word- there was fat and muscle and tendons that had to come off too, and all of that together was a little too thick to peel. Rather, he rolled the flesh off like a sock.

There was no bleeding; no pain. It was horrifying to look at, but a little less horrifying than the time before. He was sure that when this happened to his other arm, he'd have even more calm about it. He rolled the rotten stuff past his elbow, then straitened his fingers and rolled it off his hands. It fell with a plop into the bucket.

Some gangrenous, yellowish goo still clung to his now exposed bones and turned the hot water on in the tub. Once the water was on all the way, he ran his newly exposed skeleton arm under it, getting rid of all the fluids that came from the piece of meat was once living arm and muscle. He scrubbed the bones with a bar of soap, getting in between the radius and ulna and also between the smaller bones on his hand. He scrubbed and rinsed until he was sure there was nothing organic left, then turned off the water.

Once that was done, he flexed his new hand a couple of times, put it up and down, waved it. Tested it, basically. As if he wasn't sure it was do the saw thing as his legs did. Now, Taylor had no logical explanation for why this was happening. He had no muscles, ligaments, or even nerves. And yet his arm moved fine. In fact, it felt a lot better. It didn't itch anymore. Yes, he could even feel. He grabbed a last finger joint with his left hand and tugged, but it would not budge, even though there was nothing there to hold it to the next finger joint.

Well. That had happened. Taylor's eyes went to the bucket- to the ugly, dead thing that waited in there. It looked like a slug. He got up and went to the kitchen. Taylor had been a fine looking young man once, with a round, almost babyish face, dark brooding eyes and long lashes. From the waist up, he sort of was good looking. But the waist down was completely bereft of living tissue- only bleached white bones remained which were still animated as if by some magic. He skinless up to his chest, from which the flesh hung down broodingly. His heart and his lungs still worked hidden under this frame, but he had long disposed of his other organs which where always threatening to fall out.

He got a black trash bag, took it back into the bathroom and put the rotted piece of his old self deep inside of it. He tied the bag tight, then put that into another bag. This thing was disgusting and he just wanted it away from himself. He let the bag sit in the tub for a while he got dressed.

Work uniform. Even if Taylor wasn't beginning work now, he couldn't leave home without it. It was a matter of safety. If anyone brushed against his exposed self, they were dead in a heartbeat. Too bad the top was so damn hot this time of year. In his clothes, he certainly didn't look like a skeleton. Not that most people cared. He made his way out of his apartment, passing his neighbors without a "hello". To be fair, they didn't greet him either. One of the benefits of being the new Death was that hardly anyone could see you. That was a benefit? He shuffled into the elevator. The door were closing when he heard running footfalls and a man stuck his hand it.

"Oh, Hello Mr. Sloan." Taylor said.

The middle aged, balding man ignored his greeting and his finger went for the lobby floor button, but when he saw the button was already illuminated, he said "Huh," and took a step or two back. The doors closed again, this time all the way, and Taylor felt that sensation of lightness that comes about when you take the elevator down. It made it two floors down, then slowed an stopped. The doors opened revealing Sabrina Andrews, a woman with a fondness for lipstick and hips as wide as a car tire. She waddled into the small elevator, and made for the corner Taylor had been occupying. He scurried out of the space as Miss Andrews took it from and brushed Mr. Sloan's arm.

"Hmm?" The older gentleman asked.

"What?" Asked miss Andrews.

"Did you tap me on the shoulder?"

She gave him a look like he had asked her what color underwear she wore. Taylor huffed and rolled his eyes. The elevator ride continued. Finally they reached the first floor and Mr. Sloan and Miss Andrews poured out. Three people waited to get on. Taylor danced between them to get out first.

He left the building and started to walk on the street, again having to do some fancy footwork to avoid people who didn't know he was there and blindly went walking into him. Well, that was one thing; walking sure was more interesting now that he was Death. The man went two blocks away, turned, then turned again into an alley. He found a trash bin and popped it open and deposited his back of not-so-goodies. This was better. Yes, the apartment building had a trash disposal system, but it was handled by workers. This way, his trash would be picked up by a garbage truck and never see a human being again.

He turned around, just thinking about going back to the apartment to get his scythe and his book, when suddenly said objects where in his right and left hand respectively. Taylor blinked, but the surprise didn't last for long. This scythe had a way of following him around. "Alright then. Time to start a day's work," he opened the book. A list of names, not in alphabetical order, presented themselves. They were male and female names, Irish names, Italian names, Chinese names, Arabian names, and anything in between. There was no other information, just the names. They seemed random, but they were the order in which people were meant to die today.

He tapped the tip of the scythe to the first name. It did not harm the paper, which might surprise a person if they could see what the scythe could do. There was but a slight wind, and Taylor was gone.

Padraig McDonald

The new Death materialized in a dark room with the curtains drawn. It smelled acidic with the scent of dust and booze. It was slightly muggy, but not hot. The walls had a plain white paper on them, and there was a small table with a flat screen TV on it, and some infomercial was playing on said TV. A young man was sitting in a recliner before the TV in sweatpants and no shirt. He had a bottle of vodka in one hand, which he gulped before setting it down. Which the other hand, he picked up a handgun. He looked into the barrel of the thing and sighed.

Taylor moved around the chair and saw the hastily scribbled suicide note. He didn't have to read many words in to understand what it was saying. I'm sorry, I can't do it any more, yadda, yadda, yadda. The new Death rolled his eyes. He was present for so many death every day- people fighting for their lives, just waiting for him to give or not give the final push. He hated these suicidal types, who would just throw it all away like nothing. The man put the gun back in his lap and took another drink of liquid courage.

"You want to end it all?" He said, tapping Padraig with the blade of his scythe on the man's shoulder blade "here's a push."

Padraig's eyes flashed and a stony determination appeared in them. He set his jaw and picked up the gun. It was done in one fluid movement- no tears, no hesitation. Death's blade had let him know what he had to do. Realizing what was going to happen, Taylor tried to scurry away, but brain splatter went everywhere: on the walls, on the recliner, on Taylor's clothes. The new Death groaned and shook his fist at the corpse "Thanks a lot!"

He looked back to his book. Another name. He tapped the book again with his scythe. This time the wind appeared in the house, sweeping his hair but not disturbing the scene. An observer might have heard a slight noise, like a whisper. Taylor left.

Jakob Reese

Another dark building, this one feeling even more claustrophobic. Taylor realized it was because there were no windows. Just concrete blocks, stacked on top of each other. A heavy metal door was visibly locked. The room was crowded, too. Taylor shared it with a couple of guards, a man at a desk and another man in a chair. Taylor realized that the man was strapped to the chair in several places, and handcuffed too. Everyone was wearing a uniform. The man in the chair had a uniform of bright orange; the guards were in tan and the man at the desk was wearing a lab coat. As Taylor witnessed, this one was administering drugs into an IV attached to the prisoner's arm.

This must be Mr. Reese, unless one of these other guys was supposed to have a heart attack in the middle of the execution. Taylor walked around the chair and saw that the prisoner was not showing a sign of despair or regret, but rather a smile was on his face. A smirk, actually, and he was staring at the mirror on the opposite wall intently. Said mirror was very large and took up most of the wall. He had seen enough movies and crime TV shows to know that there were people on the other side of the wall- people who could see the man and had personal reasons to want him dead. Taylor could have looked up this man's crimes and seen the extent of them, but he decided not to. He hated that smirk. That was enough reason.

The new Death stabbed his scythe into the man's chest. Jakob Reese gasped and his eyes opened wide. His body began to spasm and Taylor pulled his scythe out slowly; painfully extracting the man's soul. Eyes rolled up into his skull and, in the minute before death, they saw Taylor. They saw him. Jakob let out a final spasm and died, limbs going askew.

Alma Suarez

Next, Taylor appeared on a wind-swept plain. Grass extended around him for miles, and it covered the hills, unending until it hit the blue sky. Butterflies flew through the air, no cares in the world. Taylor let out a breath. This was much nicer. But where was the person who was going to die?

The train horn sounded, jarring him a little. Taylor turned around and saw the track and the train not fifty yards up said track. Closer to him, the toddler playing on the rails, looked up at the approaching death engine curiously.

"Crap," Taylor said, threw his scythe to the side and ran for the tracks. He scooped the little girl up with his gloves and leather coated arms and ran to the other side- just in time for the train to pass by him, blowing its horn loudly and even buffeting him with wind. His heart hammering, he looked at the baby in his arms.

"Now how did you get out here?" He asked the child. Alma laughed and tried to figure what was holding her up. Just as his confusion was starting to get to him, he heard people calling Alma's name, and a man and a woman were running toward him over the prairie on the other side of the tracks. There was a house in the direction they were coming from, with a close line strong from it to a tree, and a car in the driveway.

Taylor set the child down on the ground and took a few steps away. The parents picked up the child and, tears in their faces, began to smother her with kisses while speaking words of thankfulness in spanish. Taylor took a second to stand on his heels and watch them. The new Death smiled. It was good to do some good every once in a while.

When he looked down, his scythe and book had somehow found their way back into his arms. Of course they had. He opened the book again and saw that Alma's name was disappearing, just as Jakob Reese and Padraig McDonald's names had disappeared before.

[MistressCyanide]

As the alarm buzzed throughout a very dark room a figure laid under the sheets like a corpse that seemed to shift every so often. The noise the alarm was giving off sounded even worst when they had a hang over as a hand poked out to press the snooze button. The room became silent once more as the person laid there quietly once more for the next five minutes before the alarm went off again. The sheets the person was wrapped up in moved as the figure did as the alarm soon turned off as the figure sat up. A yawn could be heard as the person looked over to the side seeing the other part of the bed was empty, only a note was left behind. The figure then picked it up and started to read it.

'Hey babe, thanks for last night, I had a great time. Anyway I feel our relationship has reached a point where we are at a stand still and so I am telling you it is over through this letter.'

Soon the she looked away for a second, she was surprised she could read in this dark room as she looked at the drawn curtains before looking over to the dresser that had a big mirror on. She soon gave a sigh as she read more of the note.

'It is not you, it is me and so I thought I would tell you it is not your thought' and soon she rolled her eyes over the shit that was being written. 'I hope you find someone great some day, though no one is greater then me. Anyway best of luck for the future. PS. I took the $40 in your wallet, you know for fuel for my awesome car and maybe for a stripper to. From Dan'

She soon looked to the bedside table next to to see her wallet open making her say "Damn it, why am I attracted to jerks and freeloaders? I am not a bad person I am just a wild person and down right cool cat......" She paused as the last thing she said sounded like she head her head up her own ass. Soon she was up, she only had some nighty thing on that her ex-boyfriend brought, it was a purple silk that could make any man want her. At this point she felt very unattractive as the hangover soon got to her, she even scratched her ass a little as no one was looking.

Soon she did something stupid and opened the curtains where the light blinded her making her stumble back making her fall back on the bed behind her. She covered her face before slowly moving them bit by bit until she could see properly. The woman soon got herself up and moved to the window to look out seeing her car all trashed making her wonder what she did last night or early this morning? She then looked down at her feet seeing one of those dirty magazines her ex-boyfriend used to look at a lot, he was certainly a dirty bastard. Soon something ran down it making her throw it into the bin close by making her yell "Oh god, I think it is better we broke up." She soon made her way towards the bathroom.

She soon turned the tap on so water could flow out and started to clean her right hand, she even used a lot of soap as she was actually a germaphobe not one of those crazy germaphone though, she was one of those low toned ones. When she was down she looked into the mirror to see herself. Her lip stick was all over her face, her make up was all running all over the place making her look like a hooker where she soon cleaned her face which soon followed with a shower. She pulled off the naughty lingerie before stepping inside the shower where she stayed in it for 20 minutes. When she stepped out and put a towel around her she walked into the bedroom once more.

She looked at the time on the clock seeing it was really early and at that wondered who set the alarm, probably her ass of an ex-boyfriend. For the next 30 minutes she was fixing herself up and then took another 30 minutes deciding what to wear. She soon just put on a short sleeved black t-shirt which had a print on it of a woman's face, she put on Some jeans that had tears in them and put some jewelry before putting her denim jacket on. She was a bit odd for putting her make up on first and clothing on after but that is how she did it. All she had to do now was do her hair which took another 30 minutes before standing in front of the mirror.

With that done she just left the house without grabbing anything to eat. Her car needed cleaning and so did not take it, instead would take the train. She walked down the road like normal though the sounds around her gave her a splitting headache already due to the massive hangover she had. The odd look was given though two-third of them were from guys. The station was not to far as she walked on, at this time she realized she was not sure where she was going. All she knew was she did not want to stay at home.

A few of her friends drove by, two girls and one guy. They offered to give her a ride but she kindly declined the offer making them say "Caught you later then." They were soon off and out of site as she made her way to the train station once more. She soon found herself crossing the road before making her way to the station itself which looked rather busy. She was a bar worker so this was new to her but she wanted to be in a band as she was the creative type and lived like a rocker. She buys her ticket with one of her pieces of plastic which she had many of, it was an american express card. The total was $24 dollars and soon she was on the platform waiting for whatever train came first.

As she stood there she looked round seeing many people suits, some school kids and many others who were doing fuck knows. When a train passed by she saw something, a person standing there. The weird part was that he had a book and a weapon making her wonder if something was going down for some YouTube video. She stood there for a second though the curiosity grew as a train pulled in. Many got on and off and soon the train was off again where she saw the station was now pretty much empty. She did not get on the train and soon looked left and right before making her way onto the track to see this person who looked like death. As she made her way closer to the person she said.

"Hey, Halloween was last month" and she looked round to see if the a camera was rolling or if any of his crew were around but she saw nothing making her even more curious to what was going on. She soon went to face the person face to face where she soon had a flash back as she knew this person. It was quick and she had a blank experisson on her face as she soon looked away for a moment before saying "Taylor..... is that you?"

[Mairzy Doats]

He did a lot more jumping around that morning, until morning became the afternoon. He saw people in hospitals, people who had been in car accidents, people who overdosed on drugs. The elderly, middle aged folks, kids. His job was kind of depressing, but there was no way out; not that Taylor could see.

He did enough reaping to become hungry and he stopped at after a kill in Paris, France, and walked down to a local cafe. Taylor had been traveling the world by scythe and book for about a month now, and he felt that the bloggers were right: France had the best food in the world. Taylor could not get a reservation at the swanky restaurant, or even get the hostess to look at him, so he slipped invisibly past her. Like a thief, Taylor stole one of the freshly prepared dishes before the waiter could get to it. He chuckled to himself when the waiter found it missing and got into an argument with the cook.

The new Death didn't know how this worked either- this hunger bit. By all accounts and purposes, the man should not have been hungry. Not now that his stomach was gone. Nor did eating seem to cause him any problems. The food just sort of went into his esophagus and disappeared into nothness. On the bright side, food still tasted good, and he didn't have to visit the bathroom anymore. Would that change when he lost the flesh on the upper part of his body? The food tasting good thing- not the other thing.

Taylor ate on the patio, on a kind of porch overlooking that river. What was it called? The plate turned invisible while Taylor was eating, then, when he left the table, it appeared again. He stretched and opened his book again, seeing that the names had reorganized themselves slightly once again after his last couple of visits.

Leslie McFadden

Taylor next materialized in a busy train station. The man saw people in business suits, school kids, blue collar workers, and people from all walks of life. And he had no idea which of these people was Leslie McFadden. At first Taylor thought it was a woman because he had had an Aunt Leslie, but then he remembered the actor Leslie Nielson and remembered that it could just as easily be a man.

There were too many people here. Did anyone look close to death? Maybe someone was going to have a heart attack right here and now. He searched faces of the older train patrons, while, at the same time, avoiding being run into. Upon his first look, he didn't see anyone who looked ashen or flushed, or who was short of breath or even looked sickly. The old people here looked healthy today. So then, what was going to happen? Was someone going to fall on the tracks? Was someone going to pull out a gun and start shooting?

"I'd better get some idea who to reap soon," Taylor's complaint went unanswered. He realized all he really had to do was figure out which one of these people was Leslie McFadden and just take them. He didn't hear the name being spoken in the busy crowd, but then again, there were a lot of people talking, drowning each other out. "Hey! Leslie!" He called. No one looked up. Of course they didn't. Mr. or Mrs. McFadden didn't have the gift that had lead Taylor to finding Death's scythe.

The train arrived and people shuffled in. The new Death still watched all the people as they walked by, trying to see if any of them looked sick enough to die or called each other Leslie. Soon about half those who had been waiting were on the train. Taylor glanced at those who remained and wondered whether he should get on or try to find Leslie McFadden here. It was a fifty-fifty bet, and in the end, Taylor decided he didn't want to be stuck in a crowded with people who would plow right into him.

The train picked up speed and left the station. Taylor walked slowly to circle those who were left, but if he didn't find Leslie on this last look through, he would give up and let Mr. or Mrs. McFadden live a little longer. In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter whether someone died today or tomorrow?

"Hey, Halloween was last month." The voice came from behind him and the man's back straitened as he realized someone could see him. This happened very rarely, because the ability to see ghosts and, by extension, Death, was a rare gift. But Taylor enjoyed it when it did. It was a little bit of confirmation, at least to him, that he wasn't completely insane- that was still a part of the universe, even if he had taken a rather dubious role. He turned around, holding his scythe close. He did not recognize this woman with the pale makeup, the blood red lipstick and the raven black hair. "Then what's your excuse, Freakshow?" But he said it playfully and with one of his disarming smiles. How Taylor missed being seen.

The woman got a blank expression on her face, but a second later she came back with "Taylor? Is that you?"

It was like a trill of electricity being sent through his spine and he took a step back as if pushed. Taylor. She had called him Taylor. She recognized him- not as Death, not as the Grim Reaper, but as himself. It was one thing to be seen, but to recognized as who he was- or at the least he had considered himself to be before all this Death mess had started was really quite something else.

"Y-yeah," he stuttered "but who-"

He investigated her face carefully. Take away that make up and put her in some clothes that were a little less punk, and Taylor knew exactly who she was. "Sonia..." Sonia Warrick. Long ago, before Taylor had been Death, and even before he had been a grown up, he had been a pimply boy in high school. A kid who needed prescription glasses who was painfully shy and struggled with every subject accept for one. Who would have sunk if not for Sonia Warrick, an upperclassmen who convinced her circle of friends to let him be.

"Wow, Sonia! You're looking great! What are you doing in-"

He looked around himself. Taylor lived just outside of Boston, but his job took him all over the world in an instant. At this time, he could be anywhere, in any country that had trains. He wasn't sure how to tell Sonia that he didn't know where they were, nor did he know how to fake knowing this information. This certainly was an awkward meeting. Taylor didn't exactly want to let Sonia know just how awkward it was.

[MistressCyanide]

"Y-yeah," he stuttered "but who-"

She looked at him wondering if he forgot her, in some ways could not blame him as she did not do much with him unless no one was around. She did this not because she was ashamed or anything, it was just so she could protect him as they would look down on her and just make Taylor's life much worse. She looked at his face like he was trying to remember her but made it look like he knew all the time like a cover up.

"Wow, Sonia! You're looking great! What are you doing in-"

When he did not finish his sentence she said "In....." She waited for him to finished but it seemed he was not going to answer making her say "NYC." She made no jokes about it as she was not sure what he was doing and why he was dressed like that. She soon scratched her head a little as she became slightly more curious to what he was doing. She was not going to ask as it was none of her busy, in fact she was not sure if he was actually happy to see her or if he was just putting a face on.

It was kind of awkward at the moment as no real subject came up except for the hey, whats up with the get up, you going to kill someone or something. That repeated in her head for a moment before she opened her mouth "So what have you been up to since you left school?" She could of gone first but that would make her sound all high and mighty and that was really not her. He looked a little different as well but she could not put her finger on it.

Maybe it was the death get up making her soon look round once more to see if she could see a camera or something. She could still not see it making her wonder how well he hid it. She did not know yet the secret he was hiding. She hoped he did something good and worth while unlike her at the moment. Sure the tips were good, she would meet interesting people and so on, but it was not something one would be impressed with.

She soon had to say even when he said something "Where are the cameras, I mean you are doing some viral video are you not?" She could not imagine him being death, that sounded like a fairy tail. Then again the world was a little strange though the thought soon left her head as she shook them away. She hoped she was not freaking him out, she was in fact a little weird at times.

She soon scratched her nose a little with her thumb as her eyes stayed looked on him. Sonia did it in a up and down motion though soon stopped. Her mind soon imagined Taylor as a millionaire though no real logic went into that idea. She just always thought that, maybe it was the way he was kind of geeky looking back in the day.

[Mairzy Doats]

New York. He blushed slightly, not sure how to explain how he didn't know where he was. Sonia asked him about school, and Taylor took a few seconds trying to decide how to answer. "Well, I moved to Boston," he said "started writing, and taking pictures." He left it at that. "What about you? Still have that band?" He asked.

She asked him about cameras and viral videos. This totally took Taylor off guard and he gazed at her like she was a clump of tea leaves and he was a diviner. Slowly his eyes went to his scythe and book. "Oh! You can see them too?" He asked- a momentary slip, then he caught himself with a dry chuckle. "Yeah; I didn't hide them very well. Well, actually,"

Actually, I'm the Grim Reaper, and a ghost, and I'm responsible for making sure everyone who is supposed to die dies every day, and I can kill you with a touch. Maybe he should tell her the truth. She wouldn't believe it at first, so Taylor would have to show her. And then she would probably never talk to him again.

"I'm in a play." He said "Yeah- an off-off broadway show. I play death. Actually," he said, accounting for his fedora and leather jacket "I play a noir version of death...it's a pretty cool show," he said with a shrug "I'm just on the way there now."

Such a stupid lie. She'd see right through it. "Oh!" He exclaimed, last minute "Don't touch the scythe. It's- really old. Because it's an antique. And it's fragile."

[i]Which was why Taylor was dragging it around the city? Whatever- allow Taylor to play along for a while. He didn't get to feel like a normal person often.

With a hoot, another train pulled into the station. Most of the remaining on the platform filed into the belly of this silver beast. Taylor realized that if Leslie McFadden hadn't gotten on the other train, he or she would get on this one. Right- his job. Like that was important. "Is this your train?" He asked Sonia, not wanting to pull away from her if it wasn't.

"Hey!" He asked suddenly "Let me buy you a cup of coffee somewhere." Just an excuse to sit here and talk more, about things that didn't have to do with death. Had Taylor come on too enthusiastically?

[MistressCyanide]

Sonia nodded when Taylor mentioned Boston and a few other things, she wondered what he was doing in NY at this point. When he asked about herself and if she still had that band from high school. She thought for a moment as she used the base of her thumb to rub the middle of her nose a little. She then followed up and said "Well life has been a little crappy after school finished. I have my own place not to far from here, my ex-boyfriend left me today by a note he left, I currently work at a bar and the band has stopped. I believe two of the members are now in another band,the guitarist and Drummer I believe. The bassist went off to study at Harvard. I do have a new band though but I think I should bring that up another time."

"Oh! You can see them too?"

When she heard that she raised an eye brow as that was certainly a strange thing to follow up with. She soon said to herself in her head "WTF, is Taylor OK? Does he have the flu or something?"

"Yeah; I didn't hide them very well. Well, actually,"

At this point things sounded kind of confusing, he did not finish his sentence yet and so waited for him to do so. Her mind went straight to the idea he was hiding something but at that she was not going to beat it out of him, high school did enough of that already.

"I'm in a play."

She soon went "A play, ummmmm OK" before pausing as he said something to follow up with. He said some things that sounded strange at best, off-off broadway? Noir version of death? It sounded like a lie or some really unknown yet upcoming show.

"Don't touch the scythe. It's- really old. Because it's an antique. And it's fragile."

Sonia soon thought to herself and soon went "If it is an antique how come you can hold it?" She did not need an answer, it was just something she had to say and from this point wondered if he was OK. He was being a little strange and she was not sure if he was like this all the time now or if it was just with her. She had not seen him in a while so she could do nothing more then guess.

"Is this your train?"

A question came to her as she did hear the train herself and she shook her head. She had no real place she wanted to go making her finally say "No." She soon started to wonder why she was standing here of all places but her though soon stopped when she heard him say something else.

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee somewhere."

She soon smiled when he said that, in many ways she did not see him asking her that and replied "Ummmmm, OK. Is there a place in general you want to go to?" She was not sure if he knew of any of the coffee shops around here but then again she really did not know what he did when he was not doing his so called play or any of his hobbies. Soon a few questions came to her though she would not bring them up yet though soon someone got her attention and told her to move off from her current spot and so she did. She kept her eye on Taylor the whole time she walked to a different spot.

[Mairzy Doats]

Taylor blinked. "Seriously?" He said "A note? A note?" He laughed and. realizing that Sonia might take it to think he was laughing at her misfortune, he stopped himself "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just- wow. Who does that?" He looked Sonia in the eye then, remembering that he himself didn't communicate in the normal means any more, sobered up from his hilarity. Not that he thought Sonia's boyfriend was also death. Taylor was pretty sure he'd know if there was another one. "Hey, sorry about the breakup...I guess me asking you out looks kind of like a dick move in retrospect, doesn't it?"

She asked him about his scythe, which he instinctively pulled away "Eh, training?" He tried weakly. Oddly enough, she said yes to his offer of coffee, so the young woman and death walked away from the train station and into town. Taylor could tell, as they spoke, that Sonia knew that he was lying about something, so he walked into the first Starbucks he came to. They even waited in line and contemplated their orders, but then they got to the front and the barista asked Sonia what she would like, Taylor realized that she was going to make his order for him or he get nothing. Either way, it would make things very awkward as soon as she took a table and started talking to no one.

What am I doing? Am I really going to embarrass her just to carry out this charade? Just so I can feel human for a few minutes?

Guilt got to him, and he looked at the watch under his jacket. "What do you know," he said "I'm late. Sorry Sonia- it's an appointment I forgot." Lamest. Excuse. Ever. She probably thought he was just as much as a flake as that note-writing boyfriend. The thought of that hurt Taylor, but there was nothing else to be done. He couldn't stay. If he did, she would start to notice some things, and then she would have questions. Questions that Taylor wouldn't be able to answer.

She's figure out who he was eventually. Half a century from now she'd be in her rocking chair and take her last breath, and she would look up, and see Taylor's still youthful face as he came to reap her. Only it wouldn't be his youthful face. It would be a skeletal visage- an evil looking being. So she wouldn't know it was him. Oh.

He left the cafe as fast as he could, not aware that he was wrong. It wasn't going to be a half a century. Taylor tended to just look at the first couple of names in his book before teleporting off to do his job. But there it was, right on the first page, about halfway down: Sonia Warrick.

[MistressCyanide]

Sonia walked along side Taylor who she had not seen since school, he walked the same, he sounded the same but something about him was off. Strangely enough she enjoyed her little walk with him, she did it very rarely with him back in high school though was mainly stopped as the popular kids would find her and whisk her way just like that. Soon they came across a Starbucks which both entered. There was a line but then wasn't there always one for Starbucks or some other place similar to Starbucks. Eventually she found herself at the counter with her friend and soon heard "How may I help you." Sonia thought for a second and said "A black coffee please......."

"What do you know, I'm late. Sorry Sonia- it's an appointment I forgot."

Sonia soon turned her head to him and as she soon saw him leave making her actually say "But wait....." The person at the counter gave her a look, the people behind her gave her a look and some of the people sitting close by looked at her like she was crazy. The coffee was in front of her rather quickly and she just put done some money and told them to keep the change as she soon headed out with the coffee hoping he did not go to far. She hoped to catch up with him and soon found herself outside once more. She looked to the left for a moment before turning her head to the right and soon went "Well that was weird" and took a step towards him. She then remembered what he said though in some ways was not sure if she believed what he said.

Her movement then ceased as she looked the other direction for a second seeing several people run by her, two cops chased behind they had a distance between them. The two being chased both had a hand gun of some kind, the cops also had some but they were not holding it but were holding taser guns. She was not sure what was happening but she would stay out of it. Sonia felt a little lonely because he had to dash, her boyfriend was no longer around though she did not miss him and the finds in the local area were working at the moment. She stirred her coffee a little before taking a sip from it. Her day was free until she had to work tonight though soon gave Taylor a quick look once more before making her way up the road that lead south to the train station once more, she had a ticket why not use it.

She was rather quick on her feet and was unaware of how quick she was walking, she did not have anything to do so maybe she would find something to do at the club/bar or go shopping or something. During that time her mind was on Taylor, he seemed off though she was not sure why. She was sure they would see each other again sometime or so she hoped. Eventually she was at the station and she was on the platform yet her mind lingered on the person she used to look at for. She was not sure why but it bothered her in some ways yet the reason why remained a mystery.

She then went to herself "Taylor, if only I knew what you were up too." She just waited on the platform unaware of the events that would happen.

[Mairzy Doats]

Taylor's heart- it was still there- hammered in his chest as he made his getaway. The man felt guilt and shame for the way he had left Sonia like that, and only desired to put as much distance between himself and the girl who had once protected him in high school. It certainly didn't seem a proper way to say "thank you" for all those years, but ignoring her was the best thing Taylor could do for Sonia.

He didn't get far. Taylor was angry at himself and a little lost in his own thoughts, but he wasn't completely dead to the world. When you see a guy running through a crowd with a gun, that gets your attention. When there are two guys running with guns, and a couple of police officers chasing after shouting at them to stop, you look up. It doesn't matter what you're doing: you look up.

Most of those in the crowd screamed and ran away from the men with the weapons, running into stores or ducking on the street. Once Taylor got over the shock of seeing them, he looked at the first page of his book. The first few names were jumping around wildly. This was an event. Someone was going to die, but his book didn't know who yet. He shut the book and took off at a run after the police officers.

The gunmen, the cops, and death ran down the steps into a subway station. People on the stairs screamed and threw themselves into corners as the party came through. The young cops snarled into their radios. The gunmen turned, and turned again. The cops, knowing this area better, split up. Soon the gunmen were cornered in the hall with the bathroom, one cop coming at them from each side, pistols drawn.

The runners were more frantic- did not having the training that NYPD's finest did. They swung their pieces around breathlessly, their arms shaking. The police spoke to them in calm, but assertive tones, telling them to drop their weapons. This was the scene that presented Taylor once he caught up to it, gasping for breath. These guys were fast!

It was a stand off. Taylor looked at his book again. He saw that name Clark Shelton. He didn't know who Clark Shelton was. He snuck closer, afraid of the guns, having temporarily forgotten that he was both invisible and indestructible. It was time wasted. A woman stepped out of the woman's bathroom, oblivious to what was going on. She pushed the door open, and her eyes moved up to take in the scene. She gasped and she tried to retreat back into the restroom, but it was too late. One of he gunman grabbed her arm and pulled her out forcefully, then wrapped an arm around her, aiming the gun at her cranium.

"Don't come any closer! I swear I'll shoot!"

This was too much for Taylor. He didn't want to see an innocent get hurt in a situation like this. He snuck behind the gunman and his hostage and struck his scythe blade into the man's back. At the same moment, one of the cops' guns let out a deafening bang of gunfire. The hostage taker's body crumpled, dragging the woman down with it. The white colored soul seeped into Taylor's scythe and was gone.

The other man gasped as his accomplice fell, and the other cop was upon him, pinning him and taking away his weapon, as the shooter moved in to help the woman. But something was wrong. The woman stood up briefly, but crumpled to her knees again, coughing blood. What the hell?

Then Taylor saw it- invisible to all but him, a long scratch on the woman's arm. A scythe scar. Taylor must have accidentally cut the woman when he had swung his blade. The young officer tried to help her, but it was too late. Her soul was pouring out of her. "No!" Taylor cried out. Trying to play hero, he had ruined everything!

[MistressCyanide]

Soon the day broke into night time where Sonia found herself working at the bar again. The day just seemed to fly by as after meeting up with Taylor she went to look and buy whatever she felted she wanted or needed in shops on the main street where the club itself was. The club was not a normal one as it had a theme for every day of the week though Friday was something different each week. Since it was Tuesday night it was Hip-Hop/Rap/R&B night. Every night she worked was interesting as she would meet old friends, new friends and people in-between. The club had not picked up yet as it was still rather early and it was a good thing is had not yet despite the music playing loudly in the club.

Sonia was lost in thought about Taylor; it was strange for him to forget that seemed important. She wondered if he was OK. She did not have his number and so could not call him; also he seemed busy so even if she did call him by looking for his number through the directory he would probably not be there to answer it.

“Sonia…… Sonia……. Are you listening to me?”

Sonia soon turned her head to the person speaking to her, a blonde female rocker who had the same dream as her. The blonde soon repeating herself as Sonia seem to not hear what she said before.

“I need you to go into the cellar and bring up some more supplies for the bar OK.”

Sonia nodded to the blonde; the blonde was actually her boss who owned half of the club with her mother. With that said Sonia made her way down to the cellar where she started looking for the things she needed. Her boss seemed to have written what she needed down making Sonia look it over for a second before looking around for what she needed. It was kind of wet and dark down here, the light seemed to hardly work.

Sonia soon started to collect everything needed before taking them up to the bar. It took her a good 30 minutes but now she only had one thing to bring up, a barrel of beer. It was stacked very high as well making her wonder how she would even get it down. First thing she had to do was get the ladder which she did as it was right next to her making her say.

“Huh, that is handy.”

With the ladder in hand she takes it to where the barrels were making her put the ladder down before making her climb up to bring the barrel down. It was rather dark here and so she was not sure how things would work out. She put her hands on the beer barrel and slowly moved it to ground level though it was a bit too heavy for her to take all the way up in one go. For a moment she heard a voice making her say.

“Anyone there?”

She heard nothing back making her once again pick the beer barrel up once more where she started her climb. The trip up was done but she still had to go down and finish up down there but this time things were against her as she went down the stairs she slipped on something wet which was on the stair case causing her to fall to the cellar floor which was pretty wet where she laid unconscious, lucky she did not break her neck but she did break something else. It seemed something she took upstairs started to leak and so that was why the stairs were really wet and unsafe.

It was a few hours later where she woke up in a hospital bed with bandages around her chest, she was on her own or so she thought as something came to her. It was not physical and it only showed itself to Sonia, it was a white looking spirit. Sonia was not sure if she was seeing things because of the fall or if this thing was actually in front of her. No words were exchanged as she soon watched as the spirit soon touched her and become one with her.

In a matter of moments she learnt of things she did not know had happened or existed, she was not sure why she got to know this stuff either but it was happening though her thoughts soon went back to Taylor. Moments later a nurse comes in and says.

"I see you are up, I was not sure if you would pull through."

Sonia replied.

"Pull through, what do you mean?"

The nurse said.

"Well you had a nasty fall, you did not break your neck but you broke a few ribs, one which did more damage then we thought. Well while we were checking you through we seemed to have lost you for about 15 seconds yet this happened a few times more for reasons we are not sure of."

The Nurse looked at the chart for a second before leaving the room to report that Sonia was up though back in the room Sonia was a little shocked though she now felt like death was with her in this very room waiting to take her soul o something.