It's been four days.
Four long fucking days.
I see what Death meant saying that I couldn't make the journey, as much as I'd hate to admit that. Even now as I'm resting I feel weak.
By my estimate I've been going about 30 miles everyday.
I'm still tracking Death. Naturally she doesn't leave much behind but she was angry this time and I was mostly following the trees she'd punched. My scent was lingering on her slightly too, which helped me out.
God, I'm censoring this so much, I'm shit scared she's gonna learn how to read or something.
Death doesn't have a scent, which honestly is creepy as fuck but if I brush against her, maybe touch her clothes when she's not looking, then my scent rubs onto her.
Makes her easier to track. Shows my kind that if they touch her then they'll have to deal with me too.
Not that Death needs it at all.
But yeah, right now I'm following my scent and a bunch of different peoples blood west.
West there is a river.
I need to somehow get over that river.
How the hell she managed it I have no idea, but she's Death, I have no idea how she manages most things.
How ironic. That Death may just be the death of me.
Not because she's burnt me to a crisp. Not because she's ripped my head off or watched me bleed out.
Because I decided to follow her. Willingly.
I don't even know why myself. I care for the girl after everything.
I imagine it's sort of like how a man marries a toaster, or has a relationship with his car.
I'm just batshit crazy at this point.
I best get going. I don't want my scent to weaken.
Anderson
YOU ARE READING
I Am Death
FantasyFrom one of Nick's vile creations to another, I suggest you get comfortable because what you're about to read might just change your perceptions of life. I am the third of seven creations, sent from the higher power to eradicate all evil from this d...
