Short Stories

☆ Death's Life ☆

  The Earth was ruled by two forces that were well known by all its inhabitants: Life and Death. These two forces walked among the creatures and men of the earth, and even though the mortals could not see them, they could feel their presence deep in their souls.

  Life was known for being the mother or father of everything that has ever existed. Garbed in the lightest of colors, their robes were elegant and well-fit no matter what form they took; male or female. They were known as the light of the world.

  Death was known to be the destruction of all that has ever existed. Their robes were as pitch as the darkest of thoughts, hoods always over their head, and their choice weapon – a scythe always about one foot longer than their height – always clutched in their fist. They were known as the shadow that engulfs all.

  As presumed, Life and Death never got along. They always were arguing and fighting about how long a life should be and even how that life died. They would insist to each other, "That life was too short!" or "You shouldn't have kept them alive!" These quarreling words were often spoken between the generations.

  Even though Life and Death were supernatural beings, they still had their limits. One of the limits was on their own reign. Life and Death had 'lives' of their own, and once their time ran out, they'd be replaced with the next Life and Death. Each Life and Death was 'recycled' at the same time and given two centuries to live.

  The Earth has its fair share of different generations of Life and Death, all performing their jobs perfectly, but all not being able to cooperate with each other. The latest Life and Death spent their last day to themselves, completely ignoring the other for the remainder of their moments.

  Soon, it was time for Life and Death to be recycled and made anew.

  The new Life formed at once, taking the form of a woman. She was created wearing beautiful robes, her hair extending to her knees. She refused to wear sandals of any kind, feeling the need to be in touch with the terrain and be in direct contact with it.

  This Life bloomed with joy, her happiness having no limits; not very far off from a normal Life's personality.

  The new Death formed soon after, taking the form of a man. He was created wearing pitch robes, the ends trailing behind him in wisps of smoke. He too didn't wear shoes, feeling the need to be in touch with the Earth as well.

  This Death was different, for he wasn't angry or annoyed all the time. He wasn't gloomy with his choice of work or too overly happy about causing death. Death was peaceful, looking down on the small blue planet with love rather than hate.

  This Death loved walking amongst the creatures of the land, barely brushing them as he passed by. He would take walks often, always finding time in his busy schedule to squeeze in a quick walk that he'd share with himself. However, there was an unknown problem with his presence, and Death did not realize his dilemma until it was too late.

  Death was walking through a town, watching the townspeople with gentle eyes as they bustled by with groceries or stopped to chat with neighbors. As he brushed by them, he soon had noticed that some had begun to look uncomfortable or cough. The people would cry out in alarm when some had even collapsed from over-exposure by staring into his face unknowingly.

  Death was mortified by the knowledge and fled the mortal world, departing himself to the domain he shared with Life.

  He leaned himself against the bark of an old tree, different thoughts swirling in his mind. A thought suddenly became clear to him, and he got down to work, soon coming up with a mask in the design of a skull that he placed over his face. If the mortals were dying because of his gaze, then he would simply cover it so no one would ever have to die at the wrong time again.