Death came to settle into the cage with a deep sigh, resting his back against the cage bars. In this darkness he couldn't see anything. It was as if he was blind. How could mortals live this way? Have a part of their senses cut off simply because the lights went out? It was horrendous! He couldn't even see his hands in front of his face, his fleshy, mortal hands. He dragged his hand along his other hand and forearm, feeling for the burned in runic markings but all he felt was smooth skin. It would seem the burned marking had healed themselves after a short while. Damn magical body! 

How did that low life even get his hands on the proper incantation? The last true incantation that was powerful enough to trap him was back in ancient Egyptian times and the magician that developed it was buried with his little spell book. He had hoped that would have been the last time he was ever in this situation again but after thousands of years, perhaps humanity came upon the secret once more? 

That was preposterous! Humans buried their dead and held them in high regard! They wouldn't just destroy and loot someone's grave! So he must have made the spell himself but, Death thought back on the image of that chubby man with a sneer, there was no way that man had the brain power to make up such a spell. Someone had to have helped him or created it for him. That had to be it. After all, the likely odds of someone even finding that old magicians tomb in the sands of Egypt, surviving the curses placed within it, AND getting his book of spell were far too unlikely. And yet- 

Death groaned as he slammed his head against the cold bars. Again and again, he brought his head down on the bars as he cursed himself and that magician for the situation he found himself in. He didn't even try and fight as hard as he could when the spell got a hold of him. He could have gotten a hold of a reaper or two and used them as a power source to pry the magic of him. He could have done something instead of just letting it take him so easily. 

He brought his head down on the bars once more when the lights of the basement clicked on, blinding him for a moment. He blinked fiercely as he saw two people coming down the stairs. One was the magician from earlier but the other was a younger woman with platinum blonde hair and tattoos along her forearm. Death whirled around in the cage, grabbing a hold of the bars and peering out at them as they came down into the basement. 

“You!” He called out to the magician again, determined to be released at any cost. “You must release me! If I don't return to my throne, the reapers will not know where to go and what soul to harvest! They may even start taking souls not ready to be taken! You must listen to me! I cannot be here in this mortal flesh any longer! Release me so I may return to my duties!”

The magician looked to Death and gave an exaggerated shake of his head before he looked back at Kaia with a sad look on his face. “A spell went wrong. He thinks he's death now. It'll probably wear off in a day or two. He's in the cage for his own good. Poor bastard.” 

Death stared at the man with a look of horror and disgust on his face. Did he just play him off as some kind of mortal man, sick in his head from a magic spell gone wrong? How dare he?! Death had never cast a spell improperly in his life! At least not to the extent that he forgot himself and took on a new persona! Surely this man was jesting! He was Death, harvester of souls, reaper of men, the fourth horsemen! Hello?! 

“How dare you!” He stuttered out, the stutter more from the sheer disbelief of it all, “I am Death! An entity more powerful than your feeble mind can hope to comprehend! I wouldn't fumble up a spell so entirely to forget myself! You are out of line! Retract your statement immediately!” 

The man waved his hand in Death's general direction with another sad shake of his head. “See, completely lost track of himself. Come on now. Let's get you those ingredients!” The magician led the way further into the basement, into a room off to the side of the cage Death was presently contained in. 

“No wait! You need to release me! Without me, no one will die! There will be mass chaos! Sick who long for my cold embrace left to suffer, mortally wounded individuals, still alive and in agony! People without heads, still alive! Do you know what its like to be without a head and still be alive?! It's terrible! Don't do that to those people! Let me go!” He called out to them as they walked into the other room, still calling out to them as they browsed the shelves for the items on her list. After they gathered them all, the magician lead the way back to the stairs. Death watched them go, still pleading to be released with each step up the stairs they took. The light clicked off once more, leaving Death alone in the cage and dark once again. 

“Damnit.” He cursed.