A New Dawn

Part 1

I look at Death and Death stares back.

"You're early" Death finally stated.

"I know" I sing positively excited for the evening's activities. Death looked disapproving of my confidence of the future, he held himself high and kept his face hidden in a large, torn, shimmering, black cloak that seemed to always be blowing in the wind, even though the air was still. He unenthusiastically held a bony, twisted and thin hand out to me, arm rapped in the same mysterious cloth as the cloak with wisps of ripped material drifting off into the night, I took it as he led me steadily onwards. We started to walk through the eerily lit park. The full moon shone through the leafless trees and snow crunched under my now cold, frosted feet and I felt it crawl up through my toes. I start to feel slightly better as we get closer to the local hospital, I can feel the energy of dying souls start to float around me and the occasional yellow eyed face peeking at me through the darkness, I know Death can feel it too as he stands ever so slightly taller and a smile creeps along his split lips.

I open the large, modern framed door and hold it open long enough for Death to go through but not making me look weird, opening the door for seemingly no one. I walk past reception and recognized the young man sitting there as he worked almost every day, I offer a small nod. The young man acknowledges my existence, he knows that I am always here, he continues to type on his computer. Little did he know that I knew he was just pretending, that he was really playing Dragon Friends, I could see it all through the back of his computer, just another pro of being what I am.

Death and I quickly stride over to the elevator, swooping in and pressing the dainty number 23. We began the slow steady ride up, picking up three people and dropping of two, I quickly slip on my cloak, hiding away from the prying eyes of the human race, it would be awkward for a teenager to just stroll into someone's ward.

We finally reach our floor and head down towards the last room in which lays a small boy, age 8, recently moved from Orleans and loved ballet, I say loved, as he would never dance again. He lays there as if already dead. His family surround him, tears running down their faces, all in denial of the inevitable. Death hands me my knife and I grip it tight in my hand, the intricate design fitting perfectly in my hand, it was made for me and only me. Once I kill my first victim the blade will take on the shape of a creature. Some people hope for specific animals, at least that's what I had been told as I had never met any other people like me. All I was hoping for was something like a wolf, something strong, fierce, bold, brave and independent.

The young boy rests in front of me and I raise the blade ready to sink it deep inside his chest, I almost feel sorry for him. I can see his soul through his deathly pale face almost pleading for mercy. The blade now hovers over the sleeping figure as I prepare to dig the blade between his ribs and straight through the heart, suddenly a wave of happiness and excitement floods through me. Is this what it's like when I'm about to commit to my first kill? Before I can think too much about it I plunge the dagger into his body. I hear the heart monitor ring in my ears and relish the moment, keeping this memory forever. I keep my hand firmly on the dagger making sure the boy never wakes up again. A bright light shines in my eyes and suddenly I am blown backwards. It's over. I made my first kill.

I am abruptly sucked back into the waking world and suddenly aware I am lying on the floor, the dagger now discarded on the other side of the room. Death helps me up and I rush over to the dagger eager to see the creature it had become. I dodge one of the many sisters the boy had and reach down to pick it up. The metal was red hot and shifting in an almost graceful way, it burnt my hands but I enjoyed the feeling. It churned and bubbled, I waited intently for the dagger to cool and stiffen. I see wings start to form and think immediately of a great and graceful eagle soaring above the earth, the true ruler of the skies. I quickly look up to see Death putting the small fragile soul in an eternity jar. It looks so weak and frail, putting up such a feeble fight that Death didn't even bother fighting back.