Date with Death

[WP] Death is f*cking tired of being demonized, and he flips out with a rant on the way to the pearly gates with his latest charge.

*****

The boat drifted through the river, creating no ripples as it moved. The river was dead clam, and the only sounds heard were a strange hallowing, as though it came from a thousand voices singing as one.

There was one other sound. The sound of crying and groaning from the recently reaped soul being transported to the pearly gates. The cloaked figure stood opposite the weeping mess, clenching and unclenching its fingers as it struggled to keep its emotions in check.

"I-I'm scared-d," the chubby woman said, her voice choked with tears. She began to snort loudly, catarrh leaking from her nose. It was a disgusting scene, and the cloaked figure averted its gaze.

And I'm damn tired of hearing you cry, the figure thought to itself, gritting its teeth, There would be no better t=joy than that obtained if it was allowed to flip the boat and dump the woman into the river. But alas, that was not possible, so it sighed and kept on paddling.

"You're not even making things any better; you're a scary hooded thing, you know that, right? Isn't this the point where you explain and assuage my fears? You just came here, looking like a demon r something -"

Its anger flared.

"- and you're not even bringing any conversation. What the hell is_"

"I understand that you mortals have this system of receptionists and, what was it called, customer care? Services and people that put up with your idiocies, curiosities, and all manner of questions, yes? Make you feel at home, debrief you, that sort of thing, yes? That's what you expected isn't it?"

The woman nodded, thinking that her words finally broke the ice.

"Well, you're dead. I'll need to you shut up, sit back, and process that: you're no longer alive or mortal. As sweet as life was in the land of the living, with all the money you had, judging by the rolls on your neck and the clefts and marks on your fingers were numerous rings were fixed, all of that is over, and you cannot go back to any of it. Don't expect a five-star treatment here, no one cares what you were when you're alive. Right now, you're a soul bound for judgment. You could either spend your eternity in joy and peace or torture and torment, depending on how you lived your life. I don't think a brief chit-chat should be in your mind if you consider what you have on your plate."

She swallowed a bit and seemed to calm, and for a few paddles, the tirade seemed to have done the trick.

"You're really what everyone thinks you are, Death. An unforgiving, cold thing, probably with sadistic tendencies even. It's why everyone is so scared of dying, imagine having to deal with something like you-"

"Oh for God's sake!" The figure swore, dropping the paddle.

The hood fell back, revealing a bald man who looked extremely young and yet extremely old at the same time. Smooth yet wrinkly. Energized yet weakened. It was such a paradox of a face and a very striking one at that. There was a frown etched on his face, making it look like his face would tear apart if he tried to smile.

"Do you think you have it hard? Have you been considered what it would be like to be me for crying out loud?!"

"I don't see what the problem is, Death. You didn't lose your life and all that you had at a relatively young age of 60, did you? Come to think of it, you preside over the loss of life. You have no struggles or suffering or whatever. Your job is to sit in this boat and wait patiently until someone has reached the peak of their life, the moment where all their struggles to blossom into fruits, and then you come and snatch their lives away from them-"

"Of course, humans and their critical judgment of everything. And what made you think that? Let me tell you something quick, I don't preside over anything anywhere, those guys at the top decide that based on your actions. All I do is get the souls and bring them for judgment, you understand? I do my job and everyone makes me out to be the bad guy for that, like I have a choice."

"But do you like what you're doing?"

"I couldn't care less about it, but I only hate it because I regularly have to deal with people like you. I don't care what happens to you all or what you do, this job is here and someone's gotta do it. That's all. Your death, your judgment, those are decided by the choices you make and the will of those guys at the top. I just do the paperwork, got it?"

She laughed a bit, and the flicker of a smile lit his lips.

"Understood," she said, sniffling as she dried her eyes.

Once again, the sound of hallowing was the only sound heard as the boat drifted towards the bank and the pearly gates that awaited the woman.

*****

Halfway into this, I realised that this was a really boring prompt. But I had already started, so even if this would only be conversational, I just had to finish.

Thanls for Reading!