The pen is Mightier than the Sword Chapter 5

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Well I was pretty freaked out, in fact, I felt like just falling asleep right then and there and ending it, I mean at least I wouldn't have to pay for funeral costs and Ken would have a hard time finding and bothering my ghost. But of course this is my life we're talking about, not the life of a normal demon and things just had to get worse. Suddenly, a voice from directly under me said "Has anyone told you that you smell like death?"

"I think that's the skeleton," I responded weakly.

"I meant death in a spiritual sense" The voice returned in a very serious tone.

"Spiritual death has a scent?" I asked. Of course the second he said that I was thinking great, now I'm not just sharing a coffin with a skeleton, but with a crazy guy too.

"Of course it does." The demented lunatic answered in a way that made it seem as though he found it upsetting that I thought otherwise.

"Umm how did you get in here exactly sir?" I asked weakly.

"Through the ribcage," He answered as though he was talking to a complete idiot.

"What ribcage and can we use it to get out?" I asked hopefully.

"The ribcage you're crushing with your enormous head, although I don't understand why it's so big when you don't seem to know anything and no we can't use it to get out ribcages only go one way." The voice responded rather annoyed by my apparent lack of knowledge. Of course, he was right; apparently the skeleton's ribcage was directly on top of my head.

"Well is there any way we can get out and if there is can you stop wasting my time and tell me?" I asked annoyed by the voices attitude.

"Me distracting you? Aren't you the one that showed up and interrupted my ceremony?" The stranger said in reply. Regardless of how long the conversation dragged on I still couldn't figure out where the voice was coming from or where the speaker could possibly be in a tomb.

"What ceremony?" I asked curiously.

"The ceremony in which I rip the soul of the deceased out of his or her body and let it fly loose into the open." The stranger said dreamily.

"Does that make you the angel of death?" I asked suddenly scared of the stranger.

"Yes, and perhaps there's hope for you yet," The angel of death responded sarcastically.

"Actually I've always wondered, what's the point of ripping the souls out of dead bodies?" I asked out of pure curiosity. Of course, I immediately regretted it and asked myself why the Hell I would ask the angel of death such a stupid question in the middle of his ceremony when I was stuck in the middle of a crypt and was quickly running out of air. Of course no immediate answer came to mind.

The angel took a moment before responding and made a noise that sounded as though he was clearing his voice then said in a very low voice, "Dramatic effect."

That answer left me speechless for all of five minutes and suddenly I remembered the situation I was in.

"Is there a way out of here," I asked impatiently.

"Well I'm actually stuck here right now thanks to you, I was running low on magical power today, but had to keep the ceremonies going anyway. Would have made it too if you hadn't shown up and distracted me." The angel responded without the slightest hint of emotion in his voice.

"Does that mean that I'm going to die here?" I asked rather displeased with the strange turn of events. By then I had decided that I really didn't like the angel of death.

"Well I suppose I could borrow your magical energy to get us out of here," He answered in a rather uncertain way as if making it clear that he was hoping he wouldn't have to rely on me in any way shape or form.

Great I thought. My lack of magical ability comes back to haunt me yet again.

"I know what you're thinking and you're wrong," The angel said vaguely.

"What do you mean?" I asked. .

"I mean you're wrong, you do have magical powers, your powers are simply sealed." The angel answered in a way that made it seem as though he knew exactly what he was talking about.

"What do you mean by sealed" I asked rather confused.

"Sealed as in you can't use them." The angel answered become rather annoyed again.

"I don't have any magical powers, have never had them, and will never have them." I retorted fed up with his attitude.

"You have them" He responded.

"Wait a second, how did you know what I was thinking?" I asked astonished at the recollection.

"Because I'm here." The angel answered returning to his very low voice.

"Where?" I asked. At this point I was extremely anxious of where the angel was during this entire conversation. I had finally gotten used to my surroundings and decided to look for the angel. I turned my head and noticed that I had mysteriously sprouted a second head.

"I'm your second head," The angel said in a tone that made it clear that he thought it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I thought you said you ran out of magic, isn't this magic" I yelled at my second hand.

"Why do you think I was interrupted and ran out of magic, it's not like I could let you suddenly appear and squash me now could I," He yelled back suddenly remembering he should be angry with me.

"OK, let's just get this over with," I said with exaggerated calmness, "How do we use my nonexistent magical powers."

"That's easy," The head responded happily, "Extreme pain."

"What type of pain?" I asked dreading the answer.

"The type you would feel if you lost a head." The angel responded.

"Fine I'll cut you off then," I responded annoyed by the angel's jokes.

"That is probably the best approach," The angel said seriously. Of course I was joking, but apparently extreme pain really was the only way of unsealing my magic and the angel assured me that I would recover from the pain quickly and said that it would actually be unnecessary to take my magic, because he could use the leftover blood to transport us outside of the tomb. So I grabbed the ribcage that had been crushing my head and used it to saw off my extra head and as soon as I finished I found myself back home. The blood was gone and I didn't feel any more magical then before, but I soon found out the angel had been lying about at least one thing. The pain did not go away quickly.

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