Death's Apprentice

34

"I think you lost something," I said. Every muscle in her body tensed. She picked herself up from the ground and turned to look at me. A smile spread across her face, brilliant white teeth standing out from golden brown skin.

Her purple eyes, so much like Life's, fixated on me, and I took all I had not to get out of there. She looked so much like her, from the way she held herself, to the way her hair fell around her shoulders, even to her white tank top. I doubted her appearance was the reason why Life made her immortal, but it could've been.

"You're not Death," she said with an accent I couldn't place. "Drop the act." My hand moved to my hood; I paused, took a deep breath, and pulled it down. Clara raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Huh, I never thought Death would convince someone to work for him, especially someone my age. What are you? Sixteen?"

"Seventeen. You're thousands of years old, so we're nowhere near the same age. And, for the record, I had no choice. All I wanted to do was haunt a couple people, but no." Sarcasm dripped from my lips like the steady droplets from the head of her watering can. "I had to become his apprentice instead."

Clara laughed, a loud bray which threw out any semblance to Life. She brushed the dirt from her hands and checked her short nails. "He hasn't change much, has he? Didn't give anyone in Egypt the choice on what we'd do? He followed God's orders to punish everyone, even if we didn't agree with the pharaoh. He doesn't give you a choice, and then he wonders why we fight against him."

I almost wanted to agree with her. I didn't want to be his apprentice, but sabotaging him wasn't what I wanted to do. As much as I disliked the job, it was an important one, and I'd rather enjoy the afterlife rather than finding enjoyment in the apocalypse.

"Did he kill your brother or something?"

"My brother, my nephews, and my son," she said, a wistful look in her eyes. "Everyone thinks it was only the babies. Any first born son was killed, even if they had a family of their own."

"You know he doesn't get a choice, right?"

She snorted. "He lets you think that, doesn't he? He doesn't have to kill everyone in that stupid book of his. He can choose to spare people, he does it too. So why couldn't he spare innocent children? My son was a month old when he died, how could he have done anything wrong? And the others wonder why I still worship the old gods." Clara sighed and bent to pick up a basket filled with gardening tools; the striped cloth bag on her hip swung with the motion. "I know you won't be able to grow anything around him, but do you want some seeds anyway?" She pulled the pouch from her belt and open it. She slipped her hand inside and pulled out seeds which she threw on the ground in front of me.

They sprouted.

Vines circled my feet, tying them together. Sharp thorns, razors against my ankles, dug in with every one of my attempts to step out. My dark blood streamed down onto the ground, and the plants drank it up. Their vines turned almost red, despite my blood being as colorless as the rest of my body, and the thorns somehow got sharper. What's sharper than a razor? Something that cuts up your ankles with the tiniest movement. Moments like these made me glad I didn't have to breath.

"Rude much? You didn't even let me tell you why I'm here." Moving as little as possible, I bent down, pinched the vine between two thorns. and pulled it away. I stepped out before crusing the plant underfoot. "And why would you even have these things? Especially in an actual seed pouch, don't you ever accidentally plant one?"

"I normally use them to slow Death down," she said, dipping her hand back into the bag. "Though I guess these will work much better on you."

"I'm not here to kill you." Before the words had fully left my lips, Clara flung more seeds in my direction. Nothing I could've done would've stopped them from leaving her hand, so I did the only thing I could. I dodged. She threw more seeds, and I dodged again.