"A crack house? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to woo me."
I take in my surroundings with apprehension. The three-story abandoned house in which we just walked has a sordid air to it. With its barricaded windows, busted front door and graffiti-decorated walls, I could swear it comes directly from the set of The Walking Dead.
Now that we are inside, I can not take my eyes away from the floor. It is littered with so many different, random things. From cigarette buds, to dirty socks, to sleeping bodies. It feels like I am walking through a mine field. Each step is like a little surprise. Or a little heart attack. Am I going to just keep walking, or am I going to step in human fecal matter?
I have been to one of these before, except that this one is even more disgusting. And I have not the slightest clue why Death dragged me here. It is not like I expected a date or anything when he suggested we go out, but this is just plain gruesome. He snakes an arm around me to bring me closer to him, but I shrug it off and put more distance between us.
We walk by at least half a dozen bodies, laying in their own piss with needles half-up their arms in what must have been the living room. It makes me shudder.
He shoots me a look that says to shut up and keep following him. I chose to ignore it by averting his gaze. I am in a crap mood and all of these tortured souls laying around are starting to get to me.
How could you just let this happen to yourselves? Their sorrow is so palpable, it is like I can just feel it hanging in the air. It is suffocating. I just want to shake and un-bake them.
That or bring a clown in here to cheer the place up.
"Come on," he ushers me to the second floor by resting his hand on the small of my back. This time, however, I do not push him away. In fact, I lean in a little closer to him when I feel something grazing one of my ankles.
The second floor is much like the first. Dark, dirty and sad. I vaguely wonder if Death decided to bring me here to scare me into forgiving him. I would not put it past him.
We walk through a long corridor, sidestepping a few ratty mattresses. I nearly slip, but Death's grip on my waist prevents me from falling head first in a half-eaten racoon carcass. I gulp.
"Hang on, we're almost there," he whispers in my ear. His breath tickles my skin, sending annoying goosebumps all the way down my tailbone.
"Almost where?" I glare at him, "Is there a magical closet that leads to Narnia in here?"
"Can you keep the witty comebacks to a minimum? I need to focus."
Focus on what? All I can focus on is the stench of human debauchery.
He leads me to the last room at the end of the hallway. He pushes the rickety door open and pulls me inside before closing it behind us. The room is small with light-blue paint peeling of its walls. The window shutters are dangling from their hinges, allowing for a small amount of moon light to peak through. It looks eerie, almost peaceful.
Until my eyes settle on the girl sprawled across the floor in one of the corners. I take a hesitant step toward her, noticing her pallid complexion and the way her greasy hair are matted against her head. A green substance foams at her lips, dripping onto the floor in a small pool of vomit.
Her eyelids are shut and her arms lay on each side of her, motionless. Want to know what else is motionless? Her abdomen.
"Oh fuck no."
Realization dawns on me like a bucket of ice cold water.
"You're sick!" I stab a finger at him and start stomping to the door.
He grabs my arm, "Stay."
I start shaking my head violently. "I'm not watching you suck out her soul. I don't want to see that."
"Sit down," he growls. Seriously, what is this? Bring-your-human-to-work day? I am freaking out. "Please," he adds in a softer voice. His face is serious, but his eyes look pleading.
I search in them for a reason. Why does he want me to see this so much?
I let him lead me to a wooden chair, which has been laying on the floor until he straightens it up.
"Sit there and don't move." I know there is no way out of this, so I let myself slump onto the seat.
"Ok." I cross my arms in front of me.
"Close your eyes."
He walks behind me and I feel the pad of his fingers graze both of my eyelids. He leaves them there for a second and I feel heat radiating into my eyes. It is not not painful, only a little uncomfortable.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Quiet." He leaves his hands there for a few more seconds. "You can open them now."
I blink a few times. My eyes feel heavy, different. The colors are more vibrant. Every single detail jumps at me. From the cracks in the hardwood floor, to the dust on a nearby dresser. I see everything. The dim light from the moon seems so much more brighter. A flash light might as well be pointed directly at my face.
I know I am moving my pupils, but nothing happens. No matter how much I move my eyes in that familiar motion, my gaze does not shift. I move them to the right, but my I am still looking right in front of me.
I think I have just gone blind, but I see so much more.
"What's going on?" I ask in a panicked voice.
My vision shifts a little bit and starts moving forward, towards the girl. It is almost as though I am watching a movie unfolding directly in front of my eyes. Like my eyes are the camera.
My god, this is weird. And trippy.
"Emma, don't freak out. I think it worked." I hear Death say.
"No one in the history of freaking out has ever 'not freaked out' by being told not to freak out!" I say, feeling completely out of breath. "What is happening?"
"You can see through my eyes."
My gaze is still fixed on the girl, but this time, I am closer. Like I am crouched in front of her body.
I start blinking my eyes harder. How do I make this stop? This is so weird.
"Can you please make this stop? Please." I am definitely not comfortable. In fact, I want my eyes back right now. My eyes.
"I will. Right after this." I hang on to his deep, calm voice. It floats around me, but I can not see him.
Ok, deep breaths, Emma. Relax. This isn't so bad. Think of it like giving your eyes a break.
Then, it happens.
My, well Death's vision moves over her body until a soft, wisp-like substance separates from her. It sparkles softly, swirling in the air before it materializes into a human shape. Soon, I recognize the shape to be the dead girl. She looks... beautiful.
Her limp, tawny hair have been replaced by what they once were. Shiny, healthy. Her cheeks have a rosy tint on her blemish-free skin.
She looks around her frantically with an open mouth. When her eyes settle in front of her, on who I assume is Death, she yelps. "Wh-what?" she sputters. She looks down at her body in horror.
"It's ok," Death says in a concerned voice I have rarely heard him use before. "You've passed away." He speaks so softly, as though he is trying to convince a frightened kitten to trust him.
It is very unsettling.
The girl appears to relax. Her shoulders slump forward and presses a hand to her body's forehead. Her bottom lip quivers. His eyes settle on a tear falling down her cheek.
"It's going to be ok," Death extends a hand to her, "I promise."
I frown.
She looks at him with her large green eyes, then at his hand. She hesitates.
"You can trust me," he steps closer to her soul. "From here on out, things will be better," he assures her.
Who is this Death? All... nice.
She places her small hand in his larger one. He wraps his fingers around it.
"Who are you?" she asks. Her soul is shaking.
"I'm the one who will take the pain away," he coos. An aura floats around them. It is as though time has stopped.
I get the sense that I am intruding on an intimate moment between the two of them. I do not like it. I do not like it all.
At the same time, I want to see more. I am thoroughly mesmerized.
This is something I never even imagined I would see. There is something magical about the moment and even if I could, I would not want to take my eyes away.
"What's going to happen?" she whispers.
"I can't tell you, but I promise you one thing, it won't be like this." He gestures to her body.
She looks down at it one more time and with trembling lips, she says "Thank you."
Death magically produces his scythe from the inside of his cloak. She eyes it curiously, but does not move away. Her hand remains in his. It sparks an un-welcomed emotion within me, but I bury it down. He brings the scythe up until the tip brushes her forehead.
"Go to rest, now."
The soul begins to clear, slowly becoming translucent. The girl smiles peacefully as she completely disappears from thin air. I sit there, mouth agape.
This was unexpected. I imagined something violent. Something quick and fast. Like when you snap someone's neck. But the experience was so... peaceful. I can hardly find words to describe how beautiful it was.
I begin to understand why he brought me here. What he wanted, no needed me to see.
Death's vision moves away from the body. His job is done.
He presses his fingers to my eyes one more time and the spell is instantly broken. My own vision returns, with its same bleak, placid colors.
But not before I see myself.
Through Death's eyes.