The Dragon and the Lamb

III. Veni, Vidi, Vici

He woke up, yelling and grabbing at his chest, feeling for a sword that wasn't there. Gasping, he slowly calmed himself down, watching the girl out of the corner of his eyes.

"I suppose I should thank you," he said.

"Are you going to?" she asked.

"I don't even know who you are," countered Dragos.

"Your temper will be the death of you," smiled the girl. She stood up to her full height, stretching her arms out, relishing the way his eyes travelled over her.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"Why, isn't it obvious?" she asked, a bemused expression on her face. "I'm Death!" And with a flourish, she removed her hood to reveal the most beautiful face Dragos had ever seen.  

"Death?" he squeaked, then repeated it again. "Death? But that's impossible! Everyone knows that Death is an old guy with a scythe; I mean, you got the cloak right and everything, but Death isn't supposed to be as...well..." 

"Hot as I am?" snickered Death. "Believe me, that description of Death sounds like something straight out of Family Guy. And besides, I beat that version of Death for this job about 5000 years ago...right around the time when those Trojans were coming here in masses. Boy, were they surprised to see me instead of Hades. But at any rate, that's not what we're here to talk about." She shimmered, and the cloak disappeared. causing Dragos to blush and avert his eyes. 

"Boys," she muttered in disgust. "You don't have to look away, I do wear clothing, y'know." 

Dragos turned around and stared again. 

"I figured that out, but seriously? Uggs and skinnies? Is that necessary?" 

"Aw come on, I always dress in the style of whatever time frame I'm in, and being the 21st century, I guess this is the way women in your decade dress." 

"Aww, get on with it; if I'm dead, why not send me over to the other side?" 

"Psh, I need to talk to you first. And besides, someone else is gonna be here to see you. 

I'd like to talk to you about staying here with me. Permanently...forever. You're not dead, you know; I rescued your soul just before you passed on." 

"What!" exclaimed Dragos. "That's impossible! If what you're saying is correct, then why didn't I die on the way here?" 

"Well, it's like this. On the way over, a human is usually dead. But if one isn't dead, one of two things can happen. Either the human dies, or the human's injuries become healed. You see, once a person that isn't dead arrives here, the spirit of the person must fight to be allowed in. Only the dead are allowed in the underworld, so it serves to say that-" 

"Shut up! Are you saying that if my spirit hadn't fought to get in here, I would have died? You're more twisted than I thought you were!" 

"You talk too much, like I said, we're here to discuss something...something that isn't how you got here. If you stay with me, like I offered you, I can make you immortal and undying...what do you say?" 

"Ha. What's the cost to me? People like you never do anything for free," retorted Dragos. 

"Oh? 'People like me'? What's that supposed to mean?" she taunted. 

"Y'know, the arrogant ones. People used to getting what they want, people who have never had someone say no to them." 

Death laughed. It was a very musical sound, and Dragos found himself smiling at the sound. It reminded him of being a little kid again, with his parents and Stacey, laughing and smiling at the park.