My Soul Mate Is Death (A Paranormal Romance)

Casper, Is That You? pt. 2

Caution: Violence ahead.

Anne-Eli

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It has been exactly seven days since the last time I saw Death. After that day at the fight club, life went oddly back to normal. Things had been almost too peaceful. I had my visits with Margaret, which per usual were painful and uneventful. I managed to get a few kills in with minimal disturbance and thankfully had no more weird illusions.

After much reflexion, I have come to the conclusion that Death was not behind the attack at the cinema. Even though I would not put it past him to find a way to kill me after all, he has said many times how he is unable to do it.

I just can not figure out who is trying to kill me. You may think I would have gathered a lot of enemies after having killed so many people in my lifetime, but no one has ever found me out. I always take the necessary precautions.

Not knowing is driving my crazy. I am in a state of constant anxiousness, waiting for whoever it is to hit again. The threat looms over my existence like cancer. I have a feeling they will not be done with me until I am dead.

As for what happened at the fight club, I deal with it mostly by not thinking about it at all. I have no wish to relive that part of my life. I refuse to even address it. Forgetting and burying it deep inside has worked for me pretty well in the past.

Tonight, as I browse through the aisles of the supermarket in search for... What am I searching for again? I check the list that is tucked in my pocket one last time to make sure I am not mistaken, strawberry ice cream, garlic croutons, cheese curds and almond milk... I wonder what the hell Sophie has in mind for our 'girl's night in'.

When I have gathered the offending combination of foods, I pay at the self-service cash register to avoid as much human interaction as I possibly can. I place my things in a plastic bag and walk through the automatic doors, bringing the hood my sweatshirt up when the cold wind whips my face on my way out. I check my watch. It indicates 7:30 PM. This leaves me thirty minutes before Sophie gets to my place.

I walk through the winding streets at a brisk pace towards the woods. The moonlight reflects against the ice patches that litter the pavement and I avoid them with each step I take.

The dark streets are mostly empty at this hour, safe for a young boy I see riding a bike down the Main Street. I find it curious, how some people will still ride their bike after the snow has started falling. Who am I to judge? I am probably the only person who prefers walking even in below 0 weather.

When I turn into a smaller barely-lit residential street, I am yanked hard by the collar and slammed into a brick wall. My bag drops from my hand when I try to remove my attacker's arm from my neck. He squeezes hard, his cold, angry eyes boring into mine. I barely register the green ruban floating around his pupils before I bring my foot up and kick him in the ribs as hard as I can. He backs away from me with a snarl, stringy, greasy hair whipping around his face in the wind.

Before I am able to throw the next punch at him, someone grabs me from behind and I tumble down on the ground. When I look up, two burly guys are looking down at me ferociously. The bigger one of them whips out what I recognize as a dagger.

Shit.

I jump up to my feet, taking an automatic defensive stance. There are three of them and one of me. I doubt I would be able to take them even with two good arms. I need to buy some time until someone sees me and calls for help. I can feel my sassy streak manifesting itself right about now. I am nervous.

"Wow, the three of you ever heard of a shower?" I say nervously, scrambling to pull out my gun. Damn it. It is not there.

The one I sent on the ground cackles and scrambles up to his feet. The bigger one of the other two takes advantage of my momentary loss of focus to lunge at me, dagger raised in the air.