Death

Purity

I didn't see Andre again until a few months later. I came to pluck another soul from its withered casings. This time, it was from a woman named Gertrude West. Her soul left me with a bitter feeling, and she fought and clawed against me with all of her soul's might. Even though she was only a human, her soul was pretty strong. The stubborn ones always were. Again, there was Andre, beautiful as ever, still trying to revive what I have already taken. And again, he whispered to me, "Death, get your stinking claws off of this woman."
His words caused me to wince. I took a closer look at his soul. There really were a lot of holes, and it seemed that I had caused quite a few of them, though I didn't remember seeing him before. He must not have been around when I came for his loved ones, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel my mark. Perhaps that was why he used my name in such a familiar way. Since the dawn of creation, I've only felt bad about my work a human handful of times, usually it was when I killed a particularly good soul or that one time that I had to wipe out all of the dinosaurs. I really did miss dinosaurs. But this time, I felt a bit... guilty? I didn't mean to cause my beloved so much suffering, but didn't he see that it was necessary? Didn't he see how gorgeous that overcoming that suffering has made him?