Death

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(edited 31/03/19)


"What happens now?

... Death?"

I sigh and scowl, unable to ignore his constant noise any longer.

So many questions.

"Curiosity killed the cat, y'know that?"

"But satisfaction bought it back."

"Maybe so but if you keep questioning me then that won't matter much will it?"

"I see why your name is Death, which obviously isn't real by the way," he rants. "And I have a right to know where we're going."

"We made a deal, I decide your rights. I decide what you know. Me. Not you. Now shut up before I drive this car off a cliff."

"And kill yourself too? Yeah, right," he replies sarcastically.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel so much that the side of it cracks but my eyes remain on the road ahead. Must drive carefully with a mortal in the car.

"How many times do I have to tell you pup, that I cannot die. I've tried every way by now, believe me."

"Whatever, I bet I could kill you if I wanted."

"You already tried."

I drive into the lane on the right into somewhere that looks a little more expensive than the last town we were in. I swerve into a restaurant parking lot and get out before I do any harm.

Why am I putting up with this?

Oh, yes, because I would like to die and I need his help to speed up the process.

Kill him or live another ten thousand years.

Kill him or live another ten thousand years?

I'm considering it.

I walk into the restaurant which is pretty shitty if you ask me. We'll probably get food poisoning but I'm immune and I don't particularly care about the mutt.

"Four burgers and one fries."

I'm sat at my table for about five minutes before the mutt traipses in, a frown on his face.

Maybe I could find a few other jobs for him.

Keep him busy.

One use is particularly inviting.

But not in this cruddy restaurant.

He sits opposite me and scowls over my shoulder rather than directly at me.

"Is there something you'd like to say?" I slowly raise an eyebrow when he looks at me, ready to let loose now that I've practically give him the go ahead.

"I'm allowed to ask questions. I didn't want any of this! The least you could do is tell me what's going on!" He growls lowly, looking around to make sure he wasn't causing a scene.

When he spotted my amused smirk, he became even more furious, so much so that his nails began elongating slightly, resembling claws.

"If I'm not constantly wondering what's going on then I'm not asking questions."

I roll my eyes at his attempt at bargaining. Honestly, he must think me stupid.

"I understand that the majority of mortals have emotions but please learn to control them. Understand that if you don't aid me to a standard that is satisfactory then I'll have no qualms with ending your life."

"You get angry," he accuses.

"I have a very limited range of emotion and you just so happen to drag them to the surface," I answer truthfully. I may as well answer some of these questions of his because while he may be under my control, he's still strong willed and strong minded so the mutt won't shut up until I do.

"And what emotions are these exactly?"

The waiter places our meals before us and nods before trotting away. The burger doesn't seem all that appetising but the chips seem ok. I eat a few as I drag out the silence between us.

It's clear that when he stuffs the burger into his mouth, halfheartedly in an attempt to show me his annoyance, that he doesn't expect an answer.

"Anger. Amusement. Occasionally pride but that doesn't relate to you," I respond quietly.

I watch intently as his eyes widen slightly at me having answered a question. He almost choked as he tries to swallow his food quick enough to shoot me another question.

"That's it?" He says surprised.

"I feel pleasure on occasion but that would be physical."

"So you feel no pain..."

"Oh, Yes, and pain. I feel it so often that I rarely notice anymore. I feel pain as you would but it doesn't affect me the same as I do not have the injuries to go with it."

"So now you answer my questions?"

"That is four questions. I will allow you one more."

"Oh, uh..." he hesitates. "What is... the plan to get to Chad?"

"Drive to a port. Buy or steal a boat. Get to Africa and drive or hike from there."

"That's not very detailed."

"It doesn't need to be. What could go wrong if I cannot die?"

"But I can."

I hum in agreement and nibble on another chip, done with all of this useless chitchat.

It is correct, he is able to die but if the journey kills him then he is not strong enough to help me.

Who knows how long he'll last.

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