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This story starts with a death.

It's a funny thing, death. Sometimes it happens suddenly, like a car crash or heart attack. Sometimes it happens slowly, cancer for example. It always ends the same, though. A coffin in the ground, crying loved ones gathered around it.

But no one stops to think about how it affects the dead person. Seriously, hanging about in a coffin all day isn't much fun.

I know from experience.

Waiting for the Grim Reaper or the Devil or whoever else you believe in to come and pick you up isn't a pleasant task. Death isn't an instant thing, there are three stages.

1. Body stops working.

2. Soul gets trapped.

3. Death comes and takes the soul to Hell, or Heaven, or whatever.

It's actually a rather long waiting period, considering how many people die a day. All us young ones blame it on the percentage of old people in the world, while the old ones blame it on us because we're not meant to be dead yet.

I waited one whole year for Death to pick me up. A WHOLE FREAKING YEAR! That's probably why I was so pissed when they flew me to the Underworld.

Yes, the Underworld.

Scratch out all that shit they say about Heaven, read some Greek mythology books and you'll probably hit the mark.

And so I joined the line to go talk to Hades. Wonderful.


This is Twix writing, you may know my other account (flying-person). This is my first story from this account which I share with my best friend, Caramello :)

Support us, and my other account (which has some kick-ass stories on it).




I'm The Devil's New 'Pet', But I Like To Think Of Myself As His Personal Torturer- By TwixRead this story for FREE!