King Of Death (Book 1)

Chapter One

London, England
8:30 p.m.

Hayden Foster never felt such pain before in his life. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, a searing white-hot pain shot through every nanometer of his body. He wanted to scream, get up and get help, but everything felt pointless. His vision blurred so the faces above him swirled into each other, showing him who they are. That they were always just one person, working along with each other. It wasn't until it started to blur with red and blue, that he finally wondered how long he'd been laying there, broken and bleeding. He sucked in a rattling breath, feeling the pain slowly take over his entire body.

A dark figure knelt next to him, black robes silently moving. His eyes are a dark red, the color of blood. A hood covered most of his face, but his eyes stood out against the dark. Hayden watched the figure through his blurry vision and wondered if he was just imagining this, death coming for him.

"My dear...," a deep, soothing voice entered his ears. "You... you did not deserve this."

Hayden gasped and gurgled, blood dripping down his chin. The figure glared and looked away, fury soaking in the depths of his red eyes.

The figure slowly reached down and touched Hayden on the arm, a soothing sensation spread throughout his body like a slight pause in the deafening pain. Hayden sat up and sucked in a breath to breathe, learning he no longer needed to. He looked around and recognized the place where he was attacked. He was surrounded by dark looming trees, swaying with a wind he could not feel. He looked down and saw his body, beaten and bloodied. He gasped and scooted away, fear igniting within. A dark figure knelt next to him, staring intensely at Hayden. Sympathy and fury lurked in the blood red eyes that stared into his bright blue eyes.

"W...who are you?" Hayden gasped out, fear and worry seeping through his body.

"Death," the figure said, skulls dancing across his robes.

Hayden blanched. "S...so I'm dead?"

Death shook his head, his hood falling off his head, showing short black curly hair. "No, not yet, but very close." He casted a look towards the broken boy. "And Hayden Foster, I have a choice for you to make and only tonight can you make it," he stated, his eyes locking on Hayden's. He grinned, showing a flash of white. "I can let you die painlessly or you can become my right hand.... Karma."

Hayden tilted his head in an innocent curiosity. "Isn't Karma a girl though?"

Death's eyes darkened to black like a tide taking the shore. "That's a stupid notion and stereotype. The position is mine to name and I can give it to either boy or girl. I choose you, Hayden Foster. You have the qualities of being Karma. Because Karma comes for everyone, right?"

Hayden nodded, his mind swimming with thoughts. As an idea struck him, he glanced back towards Death, weighing his options. This was either crazy or stupid, but neither was good. Death caught his eyes and gave a grim smile.

"I'll do it."

Death closed his eyes and whispered a word that sounded foreign to Hayden's ears. A shot of warmth filled his body and the body on the ground slowly disappeared. The dark sky above him rumbled with thunder and the wind picked up. Hayden smiled as the breeze caressed his skin.

Death nodded, and they sank into the earth. As they sunk into the wet, soiled land, Hayden started panicked and kicked at the soil, but to no avail. They came to a stop as the descending came to an end and they dropped into a black walkway, Hayden was panting and shuddering. Whispers darted into his ears, making him turn and follow them, but Death blocked his way, his red eyes glowing in the dark place.

"Don't listen to them, boy," Death warned.

Hayden gulped. "But they need help. They're in pain."

Death sighed, his tanned features turning taunt. "It is not wise. But go look, my boy, but do not whimper or scream once you see."

Confused, Hayden slipped passed Death and made his way through the dark cave, listening to the whispers. His footsteps were light, so they didn't make a sound. As far as Hayden could tell, there were no sides on the walkway, so he kept to the middle.

The cave opened to a palatial room. The room had a orangish glow, almost like fire, it rippled along the walls. The room fell into a chasm and the chasm was filled with moving souls. Hayden gulped. The souls looked at him and moaned, their voices whispering in his ears, pleading for help.

Hayden narrowed his bright blue eyes at the restless souls. "There's nothing I can do."

Death laughed, a sound so terrifying that Hayden had goose prickles coating his arms. "You learn quick, my boy."

Death pulled Hayden to his feet and shoved him out of the cave. A black door slid into place, blocking the voices of the dead and damned. The room they had entered was alight with a reddish glow, that made Death's face look monstrous. A black desk, made of burnt bones, stood in the center. On top of the table, stood stacks of books and labels.

Hayden reached the first one and read The Death List. He tilted his head and saw so many names scribbled upon the pages in fancy cursive. He turned a page and ran a finger down the rows of names, looking for a certain date.

"If you're looking for your sister's name, she will be placed in a different book, a book of good souls. Those souls I do not touch because I'm not cruel," Death stated close to his ear. Hayden grinned at the statement, glad that his sister was somewhere peaceful.

"So, what happens," he asked, "now that I'm your right hand?"

Death made his way to the other side of the desk and sat in the chair that appeared from thin air. "Well, you start your training down below and see if you're cut out to be my right hand."

Hayden froze. "How long?"

Death shrugged, pulling out a small notebook, with what looked like small drawings upon them. "That all depends on you in the end, Hayden."

Hayden narrowed his eyes at the drawings and nodded in determination. "Alright. Let's train."

Death grinned. "Welcome to hell, my boy."