And the god of death in the guise of a man came to the frozen child in the damp alleyway. He bent over clasping the small hand in his . The child, barely alive lifted it's eyes to meet his own. It knew who he was. They usually knew. A look of peace came about the child and his lips twitched out a barely audable request " can it be fast" The god gave the hand he was holding a squeez of acceptance. He took his blade and slashed child's throat. The hand went limp. He let go, there was no reason to hold on any longer. No reason to lament. There are worse ways to die he though. Some people go out kicking and screaming in a painfully unnecessary way. Or slowly through illnesses that consume body and soul. But who was he to judge, they don't deserve the right to choose how they die.
It's simply his job to collect when the time comes. Everyone will meet his steely gaze at some point. Humans must die for other to be born, it's simply the way of life. It's simply his way of life.

***just a tidbit i wrote out of sleep deprivesion..i would like revews ***