Yeah, shaking things up here! Instead of Death Note, I'm giving Soul Eater a try now! This is my theory about Lord Death's wife: what happened to her and how the two met, etc. I'd really appreciate it if everyone who reads the prologue review and tell me what you think (just no flames, please). Please and thank you!

I do not own Soul Eater!

Death was not kind. He was not merciful, there was no love in his heart, and he viewed humans as weak creatures burdening him. The only reason why he put up with them at all was because it was his duty. He was Order. He was Law. He was their Judge, their Jury, and their Executioner. He ignored humans who did not stray from the path he had made for them, but those who did stray, found their last sight to be of his menacing mask and his scythe tearing through their bodies.

Yes, Death was many things to humans. He could be their greatest enemy or their best friend. The prior was far more common than the latter. When they saw him, they fled, they pleaded, but their earthly possessions meant nothing to him. He wanted their souls; the one thing they were not willing to give away.

Which was why the young woman startled him. He recalled seeing her once, but viewed her as nothing more than another insect plaguing his world. Death did not pay attention to her. He was in her town to retrieve the soul of a dying child. The town was silent, as was customary when Death arrived in any town. The people ran and hid and prayed it was not their soul he had come to reap. Yet, this woman still traipsed the streets, her long skirt dragging in the dirt beneath her feet. His path happened to be parallel to hers and he glided toward her, studying her. She had shoulder length, wavy, dark brown hair she was wearing down. Tucked behind her left ear was a flower with white petals. Her face still held traces of baby fat, making him think she wasn't any older than seventeen. He would have gone as far as to say she was pretty had he actually cared about something as pointless as that.

She kept her blue eyes straight ahead like she couldn't see him and he was almost angry at her blatant disrespect of his presence. He wanted to take her soul just for the hell of it, but held back. Death did not take the souls of the living if they had not strayed from the path. They were side by side and when he was just a little ways past her, he heard her speak.

"Good afternoon, Death." Her voice was soft, timid almost, but carried some authority in it that it made him turn to look at her.

She was facing him and bowed her head respectfully. "I hope you have a nice day." And then she was on her way again.

Death watched her until she disappeared down another street. It was the first time anyone had wished him something positive. Behind his mask, he rose an eyebrow and continued on his way, coming to the child's house. When he exited the house, the little blue soul clutched in his hand, the woman was gone.

Now, it was her soul he was after. Like the last time he had been in her town, she was the only human outside still. He saw panicked faces peeking through the windows, watching him. He paid them no mind and glided purposefully over to her. She was looking at a bouquet of flowers, roses to be specific. The only roses, though, were black and white, the white dried up like it had been denied water. She grabbed an armful and buried her face in the petals.

"I love roses. It's a shame the black and white ones have such a negative reception, though. They're associated with death and grief." She looked pointedly at him.

He didn't say anything and she continued, "When I die, I don't want roses, though. I want moonflowers. They symbolize dreaming of love, you know."

He didn't know that and he didn't care. Love was an emotion he was above. It was weak. Death pointed his large clawed hand at her. "Ophelia Thioren. I have come for your soul."

The woman, Ophelia, looked at him, her head tilted to the side. "Why do you wear that mask? And why the scary voice?"

"I am Death." He said obviously. She rolled her eyes.

"I know that, but death doesn't have to be a scary thing. I think it's beautiful. But, I'm sure I'm boring you, so go ahead. Take my soul." She smiled placidly at him.

What was wrong with this woman? Was she not afraid of him? He lifted up his scythe. Her smile didn't waver. He hesitated and found himself unable to do it. He lowered his scythe again and turned around without another word.

"Mr. Death? Weren't you going to take my soul?" She called. She sounded confused.

Death paused. "...No. You are not on my list. I have the wrong human."

He disappeared, thinking he wouldn't see the woman until it was her time to die. Looking back now, he wished he had taken her soul the first time. Not even he could have foreseen the consequences of his unwillingness.