A Dying Request

[WP] You and D have always been best friends since your childhoods. Twenty years of friendship later, you realize “he” has been grooming you to take over as Death.
*****

“What did you think all those moments we shared were for? Asides from the great memories and all the fun we had, did you really think I’d have stuck with you if I didn’t require something from you? If I didn’t see a certain potential in you? Give me a break Eric,” Damon said, coughing hoarsely.

I looked at him with tear-filled eyes. His head was bald and he was thin. I could count the ribs on the left side of his body, his right side completely sealed with bandage as it had been ravaged by lung cancer, several tumors, and operations.

It was obvious that he was on his death bed now, and he had called me to give me his last words before he started spewing all this.

I started at the great scythe in the corner. “Th-this is surreal. How can you be Death? Scratch that, how can you possibly expect ME to take over from you as Death? I know I’ve shouldered a lot of responsibility for you in the last 20 years of friendship, but this is just too extreme, D. It’s just…”

“As always, you talk too much. The question here isn’t ‘can you do it’ because I’m sure you can, I’ve been your friend for twenty years. When I met you, I knew you could do it. I’ve spent the last few years confirming that you could do it…”

“I don’t care about any of that! Maybe I could do it if I put my hand to it, but why would you force all this into my hands? I don’t wanna die young, what the hell?”

“That statement was misguided,” Damon said darkly.

“This whole situation doesn’t call for the best words, D. You know me better than to take advantage of my nice side. You’re on a hospital bed, dying of cancer that just began 6 years ago. Cancer has everything to do with your being Death, the reaper of souls. So what the f**k were you expecting when you called me to tell me this?” I fumed.

Damon had always been able to persuade me into doing what he wanted. But this time he saw that it wouldn’t be that easy. I was pissed. I felt betrayed. And I was ready to abandon him there.

“Fine,” he groaned weakly. “It’s only right that I tell you my full story.”

I folded my arms and stared at him.

*****

DAMON’S POV:

"I can barely remember anything about my parents since they died when I was five, as you know," I started.

The look on his face remained as it was, even though the glare in his eyes softened. He was familiar with the story by now, we were all in a car back from the amusement park when a truck driven by a drunkard ran into us head-on.

My parents died in seconds, while I survived without any major injuries, surprisingly.

"But that's just the tip of the iceberg. I should have died in that accident, but a certain man made a deal with my dying parents. A man who met them just as they were about to die, and he struck a deal with them concerning my life, without my consent."

"Who was he? What type of deal was that?"

"He was the old Death, and he was about to...how do I say this, die? Well, that. And then he offered to save my life - as they were pretty much amputated at the waist. The only condition was that I would take over from him as Death."

"What the hell, how is that even possible? How could your parents take that deal? That's..that's crazy!"

"That's what they were willing to do for their son. The thing is, they didn't exactly specify the finer details of the deal, and the sadistic guy who was the former Death set the contract to last only 23 years, being a huge Michael Jordan fan. At Age 8, the scythe appeared at my doorstep with the details of the contract. And so, despite all my complaints, such a fate was forced upon me, and I was forced to work as Death for the next 23 years of my life."

I watched Eric's face as it went through a whole lot of emotions, and I was sure how to continue, or whether to continue at all.

"And at age 8, you met 7-year-old me and decided I would be good to leave this burden on."

"I didn't make a lot of friends back then. I was in an abyss, and you were the only person who managed to get to me and stay in my life. You were so responsible, unpopular but you still made better decisions than anyone else. Somehow I knew you'd treat this more like a responsibility than a burden. My mistake was not telling you about this earlier and trying to force you to accept now. I guess I'm just protecting myself selfishly."

"Protecting yourself? From what?"

"A terrible fate awaits those who fail to pass the scythe on to someone at their point of death. The other party, or at least a qualified proxy, has to accept the terms of their deal, or else it's null and void. My soul will be damned to hell for that."

"So if I don't take this deal, you'll be sent to hell for eternity? And what if I don't want to take this deal?" he said, folding his arms.

"Then it'd be tough, but I'll understand. That's how I felt too. I understand if you don't want to."

*****

ERIC'S POV:

I stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating the whole scenario.

"So I have to kill people?"

"No. Your job is to process the deaths of all those who are willing, or must be forced, to leave this plane. You don't have to be there physically, since it's not possible, but 60% of your brain's computing power, life force, and energy will be invested in this. You won't be aware of it, but your capacities for other things outside your job as Death. I advise that the only thing you should be invested in is a woman. Children. Marriage. Something else that can bring happiness and fulfillment in these times."

"And what about a job? How do I survive?"

"This job pays. I can't disclose how much, but it does pay. You should have a general idea of how much that'll be anyway."

"And then the specifics?"

"I, Damon Michaelson, do solemnly swear a transfer of the status of Grim Reaper, also known as Death, into the hands of Eric Kuhl, pending his acceptance of the scythe as a symbol of the deal being sealed. He shall serve as Death for an undefined period of time, but as long as his natural life should take. At which two years to this time, he will be notified so as to prepare himself for the on. Deal?" He asked, looking at me hopefully.

It was another favor. I had done so many for him, as ad he for me. This one was a one with much to it, but in the bed it was just another favor. The contract was clear too.

"You owe me one for this Damon," I said, grabbing the cythe and turning to him.

As I felt an unfamiliar surge of energy within me, and a chill, I turned to him. He tried to speak, but he was already too weak to do that. He justsmiled thank you and turned his head.

The beep and line on the ECG told me what I needed to know. Damon was dead, and I was the new 'Death'.

*****

Emotional? Yes. Reasonable? Not very much.

I still enjoyed this prompt either way, as I have been these past few days. Remember to Like and Comment, I hope I can sustain the frequency of posts as I have been doing all this while.