In the beginning, the world was perfect. Not a living soul slept with an empty stomach, nor the stench of blood and agony flooded the land, and best of all, the world grew hungry for decaying flesh, for there was no death. However, with such perfection, lack of humility follows like a great famine.
There was once a mortal man named Azrael. He was the most beautiful being in all of Israel. In fact, so beautiful, many worshiped him as God himself. The people of Israel would set up temples and shrines, worshiping him daily, asking to never grow old, and to never be ugly. This idea of him being God clouded his mind with selfishness and greed.
This angered the one true God, Yahweh, creator of all. Yahweh decided to test his humility by disguising himself as an ugly old wheat farmer, with a long black cloak, to shield himself from the rest of mankind, only Azrael could see him.
Azrael walked down the trail, which was right next to the old man's wheat farm, with a bright smile on his face, and his chin ever so high. He was wearing a lavish robe, decorated with jewels and silver, and a golden crown sat upon his dark brown hair.
The old man approached him with a great scythe, asking for his aid.
"Oh one true king, please spare me your time. Will you reap my wheat, for I am an old weak man."
Azrael replies with a harsh tone.
"Why shield your face from me old man?"
The old man replies.
"I am ugly my king, my face should never be seen next to yours."
Azrael replies.
"Nonsense old man, you shall reveal yourself to me!"
Azrael reaches over to the man's black cloak, and pulls it off of him, revealing the disfigured face of the old man. His eyes were crusted shut, his ears and skin sagging low and his feet, oh his feet and hands were blistered.
"I shall never help a vile creature like yourself old man! said Azrael
For I am the one true God, high above all! A drop of sweat shall never drip from my angelic skin, my hands and feet shall never blister!"
Azrael grabs the scythe and breaks it in two. He throws it into the wheat field. Six crows arise from the field like a great phoenix, and land next to the old man. The black cloak levitated above the ground and shielded the old man.
"You are a magician," said Azrael with amazement and glee in his eyes.
The old man grows tall, 9 ft. The crows circle Azrael, as if ready to peck him to death.
"You are no magician, you are Satan, the liar, the trickster!" said Azrael with terror in his eyes.
The crows swoop down and peck Azrael, tearing his clothing and lifting his golden crown, tossing it into the wheat field.
"I am no magician, I am not Satan. My name is Yahweh, creator of all things, the one true God, king of kings, highest above all high. You dare portray yourself as me, leading astray your brothers and sisters. You and all of mankind will surely pay for this."
Yahweh reveals his true great form. The holy light was so hot, it burned away Azrael's "angelic skin". Leaving him with nothing but bone. Azrael cried in agony. Yahweh shielded him with his black cloak, making him invisible to all mankind. No man, or animal, or rock will be able to hear or see his cries. Yahweh calls upon the broken scythe, making it levitate, soaring through the sky, landing in Yahweh's hand, making the scythe instantly repaired.
"As a reminder of your lack of humility and kindness, I curse you with this scythe. You will never be able to put it down, and your hands and feet shall blister for all eternity, for if not my wheat, you shall walk the earth reaping the souls of every fallen creature from this day forward. Now leave my piteous child, and the world shall know your name as Death."
