Death's Apprentice

19

After a rough day of reaping, which left me collapsed from exhaustion, Death decided we should get some rest before we went after the next immortal. He stole my scythe and warped us back to his dimension. I would have smiled in relief, if I hadn't landed on a pile of rocks.

"Sorry, kid. You okay?"

"Why do we always show up outside?" I groaned, picking myself up. The sharp rocks dug into my palms and left marks in my skin. "It's not like it's rude to show up unannounced in your own house."

"It's another one of those things to do with Life. Don't want her to be able to teleport right into the house. She'd put a bunch of poison ivy in there, again."

"What about those ward things Lici mentioned? Couldn't you use those things?"

"Then I wouldn't be able to get messages from God or Lucifer. And believe me, I didn't get it is not a valid reason when it comes to them." Death started towards the house. I followed after him, dry blades of grass scratching my hands. I winced, and rubbed the small scratches. Dark liquid welled along them.

Death stopped in front of the door and looked back at me. "We should probably train some more. You're nowhere near good enough to face Life if she decides to come after you."

"I'll be fine," I said, pushing past him. I undid my cloak and tossed it onto the coat rack. "Worst comes to worse, my soul gets destroyed. And honestly, it might be nice to not exist."

"You okay, kid?"

I nodded, sliding onto a chair. I rested my head on the table. The whole reaping souls thing was starting to get to me. Killing people, whether I'm technically doing it or not, wasn't what I planned on doing. I don't know how Death could deal with it, with taking so many people, so many kids, away from their families. I don't get how he was taking watching a woman dissolve into dust so easily.

I heard the refrigerator open and shut. Death walked over, and I expected him to pull out a chair and sit down. Instead, he pushed me out of my seat. Pain shot through my shoulder.

I glared up at Death, who was laughing. "What was that for?"

He snorted. "To get you out of your chair. Come on."

"I thought we were done for the day?"

"We are. I made popcorn." He lowered the bowl in his hands so I could see into it. My mouth watered at the scent wafting up from the butter and cheese  covered popcorn. Well, it was covered in cheese powder and butter flavoring, but it was close enough.

"Wait," my eyebrows furrowed. "You got this from the fridge."

"You don't keep popcorn in yours? Weird." Death rolled his eyes." I thought by now you'd stop questioning stuff like this. Now hurry up, Gilligan's Island is on tonight. I don't want to miss it."

"You can watch it by yourself."

"I've been watching stuff by myself since projectors were invented. Excuse me if I don't want to do that anymore. Now, come on." He grabbed my pant leg. He pulled me across the floor like I was some sort of mop. It wasn't that bad on the wood, but when he dragged me across the carpet my shirt rode up. The skin on my back burned.

At last Death hauled my legs onto the couch. He flopped down. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. I clambered onto the couch. The ceiling above me caught my attention, not that there was anything cool about it. It was a white ceiling, that's it.

"Hey, Death?" I asked, glancing at him.

"What?"

"What kind of ceilings are there in Hell?"