There are entities that the human mind just simply could not hope to understand. These entities, some would call gods, were powerful beings that reigned over all things under their jurisdiction. They are the puppeteer, the clockmaker who made sure each piece of reality fit within itself and ticked smoothly. They existed long before humanity and would persist long after humanity killed itself off. These beings have many names, many realms that they rule over and many things they control and maintain within the mortal realm.

One of these powerful entities was one that all of humanity knew and feared. There was no escape for those whom this being came to visit, no chance for negotiations or games. They had many names and identities through the history of humanity. Thanatos, Yama, King Yan, Hades, Hel, but all these many names meant one thing- Death. Humanity had a way to personify Death and try and make it an approachable subject but no matter how they changed the names, no matter how they made up stories, Death remained the same. It was the end to all, absolute destruction. It's unavoidable and comes for all, eventually.

Death does not work alone, however. For even an entity as powerful as Death cannot be in all places at once. Under its control are millions and millions of reapers, psychopomps whose whole purpose is to gather the souls of the deceased and lead them to the after life, whatever after life that they felt suited the soul. Under Death's guidance, the reapers worked diligently and life was in balance. No soul was left to linger longer than they should and things flowed smoothly, until one day, it didn't.

It began as a normal day. Death sat upon their throne, instructing its reapers and casting them out where they would be needed. Its form was an ever fluctuating mass of black magic. Its features were never still, the magic changing its face every few seconds, each new face a new soul in need of reaping. Suddenly, its face flickered through faces so quickly, one couldn't possibly hope to catch a glimpse of the features. Death gave a wave of their hand, sending a reaper off to gather the souls of those who had just perished in the church bombing. The quick flickering finally slowed once more to its usual pace when it felt a harsh pull on its essence.

Death froze a moment, peering down at its form. Light magic was slowly coiling around its being, constricting around it like a winding snake. The face that Death was currently wearing scrunched up in confusion as they felt the strong pull again, this time almost ripping them from their throne. The reapers paused and stared at Death in confusion, unsure of what was happening. The magic continued to crawl up Death's form, encasing them within. Death grasped ahold of their throne as the magic began to engulf them. Death called out in anger and confusion as the world flashed white and they were ripped from their throne.

Death gasped and sat up. He was in some kind of cage or cell. Was he in a basement? There were magical markings that looked to have been burned into the ground around the cage and judging by the scent that still lingered, it must have been blood that was burned. Why was he cold? He looked down at his hands, finding them encased in muscle and flesh. Flesh? No, that didn't make sense. He didn't have flesh. An entity such as himself was too powerful for flesh. No mortal form could contain him.

He attempted to leave and return back to his throne where he belonged but as he activated his magic, he felt a harsh burning all along his body. He looked to his arms and saw runes and magical writing burning into the flesh. The more of his magic he called on to return, the more agony he felt as his whole body felt as if It was ignited. He cried out in pain in one last attempt at an escape, putting as much magic into his return as he could. The magic markings burned along his flesh, slithering up along his chest and up his face until he felt the pain within his very head, the agony causing him to curl up into a fetal position on the floor. He had no choice but to cease his attempt at returning back to his throne or else burn alive. What a thought. An entity such as himself, afraid of burning from the inside out.

“Ha! It worked! I wasn't sure the body would be able to contain you but looks like it's doing the job.”

Death peered out through half opened lids to see a pudgy man stepping up to the bars of the cage. The man was wearing a long jacket, no shirt, and jeans. He was barefoot with his long, greasy hair pulled back in a ponytail. His hands were in his jeans pockets and he crouched in front of the cage. He peered in at Death with a sick grin on his face.

“Release me.” Death choked out before he tried again with a sterner voice. “Release me.”

“No can do, Mr. Grim Reaper. I'm looking for immortality and who better to ask than a reaper themselves, eh?” the man gave a hearty laugh as he straightened to his full height, looking at Death who was still lying on the cold ground of the cage. This stupid fool thought he only had a reaper. He didn't know he had snagged Death itself with his stupid incantation. Surely all he would have to do is tell the man he didn't have a simple reaper but Death and he would see the error of his ways and release him.

“You don't seem to understand. I am no reaper. I am far more than that. I am the one who instructs the reapers and makes sure balance remains in the realms. I am Death itself. You must release me now so I may return to my throne and continue my duties.”

The man passed outside the cage and stared down at Death. He was very quiet for a long while before he finally spoke up, his voice dripping with sickly venom. “Even better.” He then turned from the cage and began to leave, heading towards a set of stairs in the corner of the room.

“No! Stop! You must release me!” Death gathered himself and grabbed a hold of the bars, pulling himself forward as he reached through the bars in a futile attempt to grab a hold of the man's jacket. “I can't stay here! Without me, there will be no death in the world!” The man paused at the base of the stairs and turned to look back at Death, that same sickening grin on his face.

“So everyone in the world is immortal until you make me immortal. I'll just let you think on it for a bit.” Then he turned and walked up the stairs. Death watched him go with despair in his eyes. Then the basement light turned off and cast Death into darkness.

Balance. It is one of the most important things. Across the earth, the universe, the cosmos, it is a law that will always come to be. In a world where magic is attainable by few, there are strict regulations to ensure the safety of its users as well as those unaware. It is a secret that, when betrayed, can sign a death warrant. Being the other side of the coin, those who are blessed by the touch of magic still live amongst those who only dream of it. 

Kaia was one such person. Having known of the secrets in her blood since she was a child, she chose the path of a witch. Knowing of gods and entities with power beyond comprehension, she chose to follow the energy of the universe, often finding herself guided by the Wheel of Fortune. She embraced balance, knowing and understanding that the river will always find a way to flow, even if it requests the aid of a storm to clear a fallen tree. 

Wavy platinum blonde hair fell in a mess over her shoulder. Kaia sighed as she descended the step ladder, having confirmed her suspicion; she was out of snapdragons. She'd bypass the ingredient, if it wasn't one of the main ones in her preferred protection spell. It had to be done today because, like an idiot, she already got rid of the old one. There was no choice, then, she'd have to go out to restock on a few ingredients. Barely pulling a brush through her hair, she went through a mental list. Deciding it better, she tore a page from the book on her desk, scribbling what she needed down with a nearby pen. She'd have to make a trip to the grocery store, too. Kaia slipped on a white shirt with a pair of dark blue jeans. Tattoos decorated from her hands to her shoulders, each of her own design. She'd spend weeks to months on each, their beautiful appearances incorporated intricate spells. 

The streets were busy, even for a Saturday morning. Her thoughts scattered between her errands and work to the café across the street. She'd have to eat when she returned. Kaia breathed in the morning air, autumn had arrived. What a sight it would bring. Passing by an electronics store, she froze, the TVs ran different news channels. BREAKING NEWS, the banner read. Church bombed during function. 37 confirmed dead with many injured and critical. The footage taken from a helicopter showed a horrific scene of smoke and blood. "No suspects," she read, peeling her sky-blue eyes away from the screens, "How sad for those families." She continued on to her destination. 

Producing the list from her pocket, she knocked. Kaia preferred to keep visits here short, the man always made her feel uncomfortable, but he was the only one who supplied her sometimes obscure ingredients. The chubby man opened the door a moment later, "A! Kaia! My favorite customer." He smoothed back his already flat, buttery hair, "How can I help today?"

"Morning," she quickly responded, almost shoving the list into his hands, "Just in need of a few things I ran out of, if you'd be so kind."

"For you, my dear, anything." His eyes scanned over the writing as he stepped to the side, "I can help with about half of these. For the rest, you might want to check the grocer down the street." He motioned her in.

"Of course. Sorry, should've made two lists." She stepped inside. His home was lined with shelves of boxes and jars containing many an item and ingredient. She's enquired before on where he gets everything, he simply responded with "I know a lot of people". Kaia thought she should make polite conversation before he tried asking personal questions again, "How's business been? I hear people are stocking up early on some things for winter."

"You know how it goes," he grunted, "old traditions die hard. The newer generation insists on getting their ingredients fresh and drying it themselves." He led from shelf to shelf, gathering the items on her list into separate small paper bags. "I suppose I should be grateful, no? I see many businesses on our side of the world closing. They fear being exposed." He opened the next box, "Damn, I forgot to refill this one. Come, follow me downstairs."

Before Kaia could request to wait where she is, the man had already disappeared around the corner. Reluctantly, she followed to the basement. 

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.

Kaia couldn't help but glance back at the door, something didn't sit right. The energy that flowed from that man, it was wrong. Even for a spell gone astray, it felt all kinds of... off. Calling himself Death, however, that was just absurd. Death does not have a physical form and they certainly cannot be contained in one. It's almost laughable! Quite the touch to be offended, too. And the level of panic, very amusing. She couldn't bring herself to imagine Death as anything other than morbidly composed. The poor soul's mind really did seem to have left him. "Never thought Death would look so depressingly handsome," she joked. "Really should give the unlucky man a blanket, though. And some water. Lest you intend on leading him to Death."

The grimy man made a dismissive gesture, "Of course, of course. I only hope that he will be willing to accept them in his protest."

With that, Kaia paid and set off on the remainder of her errands. The day passed with the man's eyes haunting her thoughts. The best solution for a spell gone wrong making you think of yourself as a different person was to keep you safe until it wore off. She's heard crazy stories of how minds broke under the pressure of a misspoken word or misplaced rune. Magic's a fiesty mistress and an innocent blunder could leave you without a face. Calmness filled her once more with her protection spell refreshed. She pushed the man from her mind and resumed her work. Kaia had pursued digital design; a career that had offered her freedom as well as decent money. She dissolved herself in work, allowing the outside world to slip by.

A week passed, and night after night, dreams would take her. She'd find herself trapped up to the hip in a thick, black goo. Days would tick by as she watched flames consume unburning trees. Caterpillars would turn to cacoons would turn to butterflies, but they wouldn't die. With wings ablaze, they would fall, but they wouldn't die. Trapped in the goo, they would drown, but they wouldn't die. The sun would not set and night never came. Crows sat atop the trees, eyes unmoving from the frozen sun, consumed by the fire. Each moment that passed, the chaos became worse, but the only thing that would end was her dream when she woke.

"Must be burned out," Kaia tried to convince herself after yet another night of restlessness. "It makes no sense." She moved to her laptop and did something she never does; check the news. She always avoided it. The news was always swamped with negativity. After all, positivity didn't garner enough attention and drama. She frowned as she looked through headlines, selecting a specific one. Critical church bombing victim still alive after 19 heart attacks Shit, that sounded awful. Reading through the article, it referred to the strange global occurences. She jumped from link to link.
Victims of collapsed building still heard screaming beneath rubble - search and rescue still underway
Car crash survivor lives with an impaled heart
Man lives after freak decapitation
Prisoner alive after receiving the injection - sentence served?
The further she read, the more panic and confusion seemed to fill the articles.
"Could it be? No... Impossible. Even the mere thought of is ridiculous!" She announced as the caged man came to mind again. "Yet..." Kaia quickly jotted down some of her obscure ingredients, grabbing her hoodie as she set out into the evening.

Rushing through the streets, she tried to assure herself that such a task is unachievable. Never mind that, it's completely illogical and idiotic! Kaia couldn't put this outlandish thought to the side, she had to confirm. She had to eliminate that possibility. Death couldn't be trapped in a basement. Death couldn't be contained.

It took a couple of minutes for the door to open after her panicked knocking, "I'm so sorry to bother this late. I seem to have run out of a few things I need urgently." She held the list forward.

"It's late, my girl," the man proclaimed through tired eyes, "You can be happy you're my favorite." Again, he stepped to the side for her to enter. His eyes scanned over the list once more, "Oh, these are your strange ones. What are you up to this time?"

"Practicing some family magic," Kaia smiled, "I have a test coming up, you see. It'll decide my position." She tried acting normal. She despised lying.

"Aah, that's quite a thing. These old family traditions can be stressful and demanding. I keep your weird requests downstairs. You're the one who buys most of them. I'll have to dig a bit for this third one, though," he spoke as he started the way down. Kaia eagerly followed this time.

“It's been a WEEK!” Death rattled the bars of the cage violently, the whole cage rocking with the force of his shaking. “Do you have any idea what it's like?! Hundreds of thousands of voices calling out to you, begging for you to free them from their torment!” He shook the cage again, roaring out in anger and frustration. “Let me go!” The runic markings began to burn along his forearms and skin as he called on his magic, attempting to dissolve the very bars he was holding onto. The agony coursed up his arms and began to creep up his chest. He roared out in rage and pain as he released the bars, them being no more damaged than when he initially grabbed them.

The magician was sitting in a chair next to the stairs, scrolling through news articles on his phone and reading out any special ones that caught his interest. “Oh a man was decapitated in a freak accident. Doctors aren't sure how he's still alive and are trying to figure out the next best step. Oh look at this one! A man on death row finally given the injection, survived. Huh, wonder how that is? God's intervention some claim.” Death roared out and shook the cage once more before dropping down on the floor in a heap, slamming the back of his head into the bars behind him.

“This could all end, Death. All you have to do is tell me how to become immortal. That's it. It's as simple as that. What is a single immortal man in this world with billions of people, huh? How badly can I shift the balance, huh? You give that to me and I let you go and you can get back to reaping souls. Hell, I bet the world would be in balance the moment I set you free. All you gotta do, is give me the secret to immortality.”

“I can't,” Death roared out through gritted teeth, locking his eyes on the magician across the way. “You think you'll be the only who wants to be immortal? The only one who's tried this stupid stunt? Every new year I have to go and release my reapers from some stupid spell that a magician, who is just as stupid as the next, casts. They think my reapers know. That they can just snap their fingers and oh, they're immortal now. No. It's not that simple and there's a price to pay with your immortality. There has to always be balance in the world, you sniveling fool! Nothing in your realm is immortal and there's a reason for that, idiot. You won't get immortality from me so you might as well just let me go now before something truly bad happens.”

There has to always be balance in the world. Balance. Balance is necessary for this world to even function correctly and it's not unheard of for a god to notice the unbalance and decide they will do something about it. The only problem is that other gods do not control the realm of Death, they would simply be conquering it and inserting there influence into it. Who knows what would happen if, say, the god of time were to take control. He can view things far in the future that no one else can and deem someone in need of killing even before they had a chance to do anything that may shift the balance of the world. Souls, who were not ready to be reaped and who's clock was not done ticking, suddenly being taken. A balance may be acquired but one highly shifted in the direction and motivation of the god of time's impression of what balance is. It could be disastrous.

“You want out, you know what you need to do.” The man said as he stood up from the chair and slid his phone into his jacket pocket. “Till then, you're just going to stay right where you are.” He folded the chair up and leaned it against the wall before he began to make his way up the stairs, once more turning the light off and leaving Death in the dark. It remained that way for, what felt like an eternity to Death but had only been a few hours when the lights in the basement came back on and the magician walked down into the basement with that familiar girl in tow. Death watched the two walk down the stairs, his eyes locked on the girl as they came down.

So she came back. Was it for more ingredients like before or was she here to see Death. He leaned back against the far side of the cage and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his mouth forming a solemn line. “So, starting to figure out the stuff I said was true, eh?” He shifted his eyes to the magician was he walked into the back room, leaving them alone in that area, before he turned his eyes back on the girl. “Look, you need to find a way to get me out of here.” He scrambled to the front of the cage and grabbed a hold of the bars. “What do I need to do to prove to you that I'm the real thing? Magic? I can't do that. This body won't let me.” Just to prove a point, he summoned some of his magic and the runic symbols burned along his forearms for a moment before he stopped, the burned symbols slowly fading then healing completely. “I can give you some of my magic, perhaps. But it needs to be quick.” He reached through the bars, his hand extended as if to shake. He looked down at his hand than to the room where the magician had walked off into. He looked back at the woman before giving his hand a small shake, trying to coax her to grab a hold.