I rolled Death over and grabbed his wrist, searching for a pulse. I couldn't find one.
"Kid, I'm not alive." He cracked an eye open and smiled at me. My soul steadied at the smile, no matter how weak it was. Death sat up and ran a hand through his hair.
"What happened?" I asked, looking at the cuts spilling gold down his skin.
"Life decided to take a more direct approach. Mind getting me my scythe so we can get out of here?"
I nodded, but I couldn't find it. My eyebrows drew together as I looked everywhere in the room a second time. "It's not here."
"Kid, cover your ears."
"Why?"
"Just do it."
I shrugged and covered my ears, expecting him to swear. I didn't expect him to let out a loud shout, one that knocked me back against a metal shelf.
Air swirled around Death, loose papers and napkins disintegrated the moment they neared him. The dead body of the cashier collapsed and turned to soil. Death put his head in his hands and the air grew still.
It took me a while to untangle myself from the twisted wreckage of the shelf. A high pitched ringing was the only thing I could hear. I sat in front of Death and stared at him.
He glanced up at me. Before I knew what was happening, he had his gloves off and his hands on either side of my face. The ringing trailed off. Death pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and he wiped the sides of my face.
"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to burst your eardrums," Death said, offering an apologetic smile. He put his gloves back on.
"It's fine. Didn't even feel it. The shelf, on the other hand, definitely deserves an apology."
Death laughed and pulled my hood up over my head. "I'll apologize when it apologizes for getting in the way. Did you see a pen anywhere?"
"Uh, yeah. Hold on a second." I found one and tossed it to him.
Death got up and found an intact piece of paper. He scrawled a note on the back and dropped it and the pen ontop of the former cashier.
"What's that about?" I asked.
"Sometimes immortals get bored. God overrides free will. Lucifer plays TSGs. We find our own ways to keep ourselves entertained. Mine just happens to be leaving notes and ciphers."
"That's horrible."
"Kid, the guy died a couple of hours ago and he's a pile of dirt. I'm not sure mortals could come up with any explanation for this." He reached up to fix his scarf. His hand froze in midair, when he realized his scarf was gone.
"You okay?"
Death pressed his lips together and forced a smile. "I am going to push her down a well."
"That seems harsh."
"Kid, it's one thing to steal my scythe. It's another thing to steal my scarf. God knows that, Lucifer knows that, and I know she knows that. I am pushing her down a well and if we're lucky, she won't get out for a couple years."
"I still think it's a bit much for a scarf, Death. We can stop at a mall or something. I can probably learn how to knit."
"You can't replace the scarf."
"Why not?"
Death sighed. "It's the one present Life's given me. She made it for me when I was little."
"That scarf is longer than I am tall."
"So?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Nevermind." I shook my head. "How are we supposed to get home?"
"Give me your scythe." He didn't wait for me to hand it over, snatching it from my hand. He sliced it through the air and we appeared not outside his door, but outside the gates to Heaven.
Death didn't give me my scythe back and he surprised me when he pulled me along by my arm rather than summoning the harness. He wove through the crowds, not giving the souls time to clear a path.
The main gates stood open and we rushed inside. I heard someone yell at us, but Death didn't stop so I didn't either. We showed up on God's doorstep, out of breath and uninvited.
How uninvited we were was revealed to us when Raphael opened the door and glared at us.
"Why are you two here?" He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, which hung open revealing a green shirt.
"We need to talk-" Death paused for breath. "-to your dad."
"He's in living room," Raphael said. "If it's not important than don't bother him."
"Rafe, my sister beat me to the point of unconsciousness. The only reason I'm not cocooned is because she jumped me in a gas station. I'm pretty sure this is important."
Raphael sighed. He lifted his hands and made complicated gestures and drew symbols in the air. It took awhile, but at the end of the ten-minute process, Death's wounds were mostly healed.
"Thanks." Death nodded. "Mind checking the kid over?"
"She's your responsibility." With that, Raphael disappeared into the palace, leaving the door open for us.
Death knew where to go, making me wonder how many times this sort of thing has happened.
A large couch sat in front of flat screen, which showed something similar to the Sims, but infinitely more advanced.
"Please? Can I? Please?" Michael sat on the back of the couch, wings relaxed.
"The last time I let you show yourself to someone, you managed to convince them their was another rank of angels," God said. "Gabriel messes around less than you do."
"The kid stole a guys voice because he wouldn't listen. I would have made my eyes start glowing and use the booming voice."
Death smiled. He vaulted over the back of the couch. "Are these good ones or are you ruining their lives?"
"I'm just controlling the one. Trying to see how long it takes his family to have him committed to a mental institution."
"So ruining their lives? Let Michael go down and do some freaky angel stuff, but only in front of that guy."
"That's what I've been trying to get him to let me do." Micheal drummed his fingers against the light leather of the couch. He glanced back at me. "Come on, Ardia. I don't bite."
I slipped my shoes off, before walking over. It would be rude to track mud into the room, it was bad enough I wore my shoes this far into the house. My fingers curled around the material of my cloak as I stood tense.
A wing shot out. The warm, soft feathers wrapped around me and pulled me closer to Michael. He laughed.
"You can trust us. I'm a being of divine love. God knows Death cares about you."
"That I do." God didn't tear his attention from the screen. Now that I was closer, I could see the pile of junk food and wrappers on God's left side. Some chips and crumbs collected on his lap.
"She's my apprentice, I have to care about her."
"You sure that's all? She is kinda cute." Michael pinched my cheek.
"Michael!" God whipped around to glare.
My cheek was released and I rubbed the side of my face. He pinched harder than my great-aunt, and she sentenced wasps to death by pinching.
"It's not like I like her. I'm just saying if this is what she looks like now, what would her ideal version look like?"
"Kid, don't let him get to you. He's just wondering what you'd look like if you had come to Heaven. If your soul makes it here, then you'll look like how your ideal version of you is. Opposite is true for Hell." Death stretched, arching his back. "And besides, you're way too young for me. And not my type."
"Gaaaaaaaaay!" Michael cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Michael, I'm not gay." Death sighed. "This isn't why I came here."
"Why did you?" God asked.
"Well, let's see. Life beat me up, left me bleeding and unconscious. Stole my scythe and my scarf. And- Can I borrow this?"
Next thing I knew a controller flew at my face. The ribbons of light wrapped around it, burning brighter than normal while Hell's Fury was barely a sputter.
"Yeah, she can summon that." Death said. "Can I borrow the books you have on those?"
"After you tell me how you're going to get your scythe back."
Death shrugged. He leaned back, crossing his legs. Any plan he came up with was bound to have been made on the spot.
"Can you stop throwing stuff at my face to get this to activate?" I gave the controller back to God.
Michael grabbed my right hand. His eyes glowed. Golden coils of light enveloped his arms, twining with the ribbons around mine.
"This is weird," he mumbled. The glow subsided from his eyes as the ribbons absorbed back into our skin. "Angels and saints can summon these. Regular mortals shouldn't be able to do this."
Death stood up, along with God. The two of them had continued their conversation while Michael summoned his Grace. Death leaned in and whispered something to God that made him glance at me before nodding.
God brushed the crumbs off of his pajamas, which shifted to a business suit. He smiled. "I'll go find the books. You can't take them out of here, but you're welcome to stay while I sentence some souls."
"Thanks," Death said. "You're the best."
God ruffled Death's hair. "I know the deadbeat will owe you a favor now, so don't mention it."
"Can I play your game?" Michael asked, grabbing the controller.
"Sure. If I decide to flood the world again."
Chapter: 1,627
Book: 20,324
How was the chapter?
Chapters 2 and 3 have been edited and the other chapters will get the same treatment soon. 2 has an extra 100 words and 3 has 500 more.
So...
See yah