Prologue
Ever since I was born, I've been able to see how dangerous people were on a scale of 1-10. An average 8 year old kid was a 1. An assassin was on average a 7.
It was weird. I never told anyone but the people that took care of me. It never came up really.
Today was normal. I woke up, ate breakfast and walked to school. It was still warm out, being the first day of school and all. I walked past the old oak tree, like I had for 3 years in a row, and walked into the school.
I hate school. The people, the teachers, but especially the way school ruins the learning experience. Plus, the way everyone acts like the boyfriend or girlfriend they have now will still be with them after this last year of high school I mean re-
Then she walked past me. She wasn't perfect in the way society thought perfect was, but the way she looked so confident, the way she walked, was perfect to me. Her black hair was medium length and it bounced when she walked. She was looking down, but I still caught a glimpse of her bright green eyes. The colour was almost unnatural, almost. The colour of peridots, I guess.
Of course, being the clutz I am, bumped into her whilst staring at her perfectness. Her books fell and so did she. It was just like the movies, but super awkward. Also, (not very ) surprisingly, super cliche.
"Sorry, I, um didn't see you there." I knelt down and helped her up.
"My names Elizabeth. What's yours?"
She paused for a second, then answered.
"Um, my name's Victoria. Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. I got to get to class, maybe we can talk at lunch?"
She seemed really nice, so I agreed and we both went to class.
We had lunch together, talking about our lives, how horrible our parents were, I suppose. School ended, we talked for a while while putting things away in her locker. Is it a coincidence that her locker was one away from mine? Probably not, coincidence doesn't exist. Everything was planned, everything was planned. We finished cleaning our lockers, and I walked home.
I didn't realize until I was home that my internal alarms were going off- my radar said she was a 10.
That night was the second time I've seen Death. The first time was when she came for the hamster I had when I was 10. She came, she was staring out my window. She told me to keep an eye on Victoria because she was important. I didn't understand, why was she important? Why am I mixed in with all this? It was, surprisingly, confusing.
We talked. She told me stories that I can never tell. Stories that would leave the weak trembling and whimpering on the plush purple carpet I had in my room. She told me of angels and demons. Of the humanity left in the world, and how there wasn't much of it. The things she had seen, things the universe has seen, were amazing and terrifying in their beauty.
Oh, and apparently angels wings are not white, but the colour of an oil spill.
She looked different then the first time I had seen her, darker, and sadder. She must have gone through a lot in 7, almost 8 years now.
Death told me her last story, about a raven haired boy and a silver haired girl. How they did not know each other, but loved each other none the less. They sacrificed everything for each other, yet they never met. It was the boy in the end, he died. She never knew. She thought he did not love her anymore. She died too in the end, suicide. It was sweet, but it was bittersweet. Writing to someone who would never write back. She left after the story of the raven haired boy and silver haired girl.
She said one last thing to me,
I remember it clear as day, as if it was just a moment ago she said it to me.
"Videtur quod amor non sit, memor ."
I remembered. I watched over Victoria, I fell for her, as did she for me. She wasn't my first love, but one of my last. See a thing nobody ever talks about immortality, is the crippling pain when your loved ones die. You keep on living. They don't. It's horrid. They never talk about the self loathing. The suicidal thoughts are the big ones in most immortals lives. For me, it was the hatred of the universe. The way that I was born, such a long time ago, to become- this. Someone who measures the level of danger in a person, a natural born assassin. Obviously not one of the worst genetic abnormalities, but, you know, flying and mind reading would have been nice too. Thanks science.
I was an assassin. People picture us as ruthless killers, and for the most part their right. But even assassins have hearts and mothers.
Anyways, a plus of being immortal, I stopped aging at 20. I always wondered if anyone has ever noticed that I look like a hipster either. I really stopped caring after my, what, 200th, 300th birthday? I can't remember anymore. I'm like, super old. Like older than your grandma's old couch old. I know, I know, I hear your gasps of surprise from outside these pages.
I'm pretty sure, if anything, that I'm the only one aware that this world- this reality, was created by the author.
But that doesn't mean I can't write my own pages sometimes.
1
Turning into a villain isn't what the movies show.
It's not just about being evil. It's not always about revenge. It's the way you are treated or how you are born. Sometimes it's because of love, or a tragic event. In my case, it was dying. Yes, I was a great person, I volunteered at homeless shelters, treated my girlfriend well and all that boring crap. I was, sadly, good. I learned my lesson. To tell you the truth, I don't remember dying.
I remember walking on the beach with my girlfriend, holding her hand. Feeling the warmth radiate off her. Then she was laughing, eating dinner in a restaurant. Her hair was bouncing around, but I don't remember dying. Wasn't it funny that the most important memories always slip through your fingers again and again? Very… funny.
I remember my family, how we had dinner at our grandma's house when I was a kid. How old was I? I remember a cake… but no candles. It's like fate didn't want me to remember. I remember just, walking in my memories. Alone, but surrounded by my family, and my friends. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, a woman, dressed in a flowing cloak, about 10 feet away. She had dark hair, so dark it looked blue in the light of… I can't remember where the light was coming from. I focused on the woman again, and I remember that she had a long stick by her side. A staff of sorts. Topped with a clear glass ball, wait. Now it was blue glass. She smiled, obviously amused by the confusion I was sure was plastered on my face. I could only see the bottom half of her face, her skin was very pale, almost see through. Her smile was cold. Not happy like smiles should be. She raised her head and I turned around slowly. Her smile grew wider, she looked maniacal. The hood was still covering her eyes, but it felt like she was staring right through me. Analyzing my form, my thoughts. I was staring right back. Trying to see under her hood.
"You won't be able to." She said with a voice that was in-between honey and metal scraping metal. It was soothing, but at the same time, it was terrifying.
I was confused for a second. Did she just read my thoughts?
She spoke again. This time looking straight at me through the hood. " Yes. I did. Are you surprised? Where do you think you are, my dear sweet Victoria?"
I froze. Where was I? I looked around, looking for a way out, to no success.
She chuckled at my panic, and I looked back at her. I blinked and she was closer, only about 6 feet away now. She raised her hands, and my eyes went wide. I didn't know what she was doing. She was obviously dangerous, and she looked strange. Her hands went under her hood, slipping it back. Her dark hair tumbled all the way out. I stared. I didn't mean to, but she was gorgeous. Her eyes were the colour of my curtains back home, light blue. They almost glowed. She wasn't wearing any makeup aside from her eyeliner, and it suited her well. I didn't notice before, but I could see her neck. I felt my stomach twist. It was covered in claw marks. Not
fresh, but scars. They were darker than the rest of her skin, and they stood out against the black cloak.
I didn't know how to speak. To reply to her comment.
My mouth wouldn't work.
Stop. You can talk to this woman. Question her. Do it.
I hoped that the words would come smoothly, but I stammered.
"A-Am I dreaming?" I felt like a child facing this woman. Fearful and small.
She frowned. "And why would you think that?"
"W-Well this doesn't make sense in the real world. Surrounded by my old memories? That doesn't make any sense." She smiled again. Somehow this smile was colder than the last one.
It had an underlying layer of insanity.
"Well you are not dreaming Victoria."
I didn't believe her at first, but I looked at myself. I was a solid human being. I pinched myself on the arm, and felt pain. Real pain. In dreams you cannot feel physical pain. I learned that in college. I looked back at her. She was still smiling.
"Where am I then?" I felt scared, but calm at the same time.
"Haven't you guessed yet? You're dead." I backed away, your mind racing. Im dead? No. That's not true. I was just dreaming. I would wake up next to Elizabeth anytime now. But when did I go to bed? I don't remember. I looked at the dark woman. "Who are you?"
She looked at me. Her eyes seemed to dull a little bit, and her smile grew even more emotionless. Her staff grew black. I knew I asked the wrong question. She seemed sad, but even more insane than her smile.
"I am many things. I am called many names. I have loved many things. But you humans still hate me. I am Death. My name is Nox. I am the thing that mortals fear most." She changed into a Raven, then into skeleton with a black cape, then an white bird, and finally into a man wearing white clothes. She changed back into the woman.
Her eyes were filled with anger and sadness. I blinked, and she in front of me. Holding out her hand.
"Take my hand and we will travel to the end. Where souls go to be free. Will you go willingly? Or will you resist?"
I stood there. I didn't know what to do. Would I go? (Such suspense, I know.)
I went quiet. It was pure silence.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Death looked annoyed. She was probably expecting the usual "What does it all mean?" question.
"What do you remember?"
I looked up at her. She was surprised.
"What do I remember?"
She smiled. Not a cold smile. But a genuine smile. Full of warmth and comfort. But not fully rid of the cold insanity that lived in that smile before.
"No one has ever asked me."
The walls with my memories playing on loop ended. They went dark. Surprisingly I wasn't scared. The fear completely left my body and I relaxed. It was too dark to see, but then one of the walls lit up. It was playing a scene that showed a small girl, about 13 with silver hair and a dress that looked like it belonged in a museum. It was purple silk, with a simple line of diamonds along the waist. Death looked at the scene as it played out. Her eyes looked a different colour in the dim light.
I looked back at the wall. The girl walked among a rose garden. There was lanterns over her head, swinging in the night wind. She touched a red flower that was darker than the rest of the roses and picked it. She examined it. She had wise eyes, for a girl her age. She sat down, not worrying about her silk dress getting dirt on it in the process, and set the rose down on the stone ground. She pulled a piece of chalk from out of nowhere and began to draw around the rose. First a circle, then a intricate pattern around it. Once she looked pleased with it, she got up and began to speak to the rose in a harsh language . I was confused. Why was this girl speaking to a rose? I kept watching the girl as she spoke. She seemed to be talking to someone, arguing. She then proceeded to stomp on the rose and used her dress to wipe away the chalk. I tore my eyes away from the wall and looked at Death. She watched as the girl left the garden and the remains of the tattered rose blew away. When the wall went dark again, another one lit up, across the room.
This time, it showed a young boy.
He was about 15, and wore luxurious clothes. They looked like a prince's clothes. He was carrying a sword, one with a long blade and the same rose with the intricate designs from the girl before. He was walking in a garden, a rose garden. But the roses weren't red, but white instead. I examined the boy again, he had jet black hair, but his eyes were different. They were two different colors, the right one was jade green, the other was shining gold. He raised his blade and began chopping furiously at the roses. He used the sword like an axe, bringing it down again and again, chopping the roses to bits. He finally stops. You didn't notice before, but he was screaming. The scene was silent, and all you saw was his open mouth and his straining vocal cords through the skin of his neck. He collapsed into the ground, and he stopped screaming. He lay still for a few moments. Suddenly, he got up and brushed the dirt off of his clothes. He looked towards me. I knew I wasn't there, but it was so eerie. He looked different somehow, but I didn't notice right away. His eyes were black. The whites of his eyes disappeared, all that was left was his pupils. He smiled. It was terrifying smile. The scene stopped, frozen on his smile. Death turned to me, the same smile plastered on her face. Her eyes glowed a brighter blue than before, almost pastel. Her staff turned a brown colour, then dissipated.
"Well, you've seen a glimpse of my world darling. You know, no one has ever asked about me before,"
She transformed into a different woman, and she wore a different dress. It was still black, but it was tighter, fit around her until her calves, then flowed to the floor. It was a beautiful long sleeve dress, and it suited her new body well. Her hair was a curly chocolate brown, and her skin was a caramel colour. Her eyes, still the same colour, looked at me like I was some type of amusing toy. She spoke.
"What to make a deal?"
I looked at her. A deal? What did she mean?
I mean, I know how to strike a deal, I was in high school once. But that was with harmless kids who had no intention of killing me and using my guts to paint their baby's nursery. Probably.
"A deal?" I asked.
"Yes, a deal. I will give you something for something in return. Easy." She said with obvious annoyance.
"What do you want?"
Death looked at me, searching for something in my face. And I didn't know what.
"What I want doesn't matter, it's what you want that matters right now. What do you want Victoria?" She said. Immediately I thought of Elizabeth.
I can make her life perfect. I could make a deal making her forget about me. She could move on, find someone else to make her happy and maybe she wouldn't be sad all the time.
"I want my girlfriend to be happy." I felt sad saying that, like I was breaking up with Elizabeth. It was a terrible feeling.
"I have an.. idea. I can bring you back, that would make her happy, right? Maybe i'll throw in a little extras for someone so important." She waited for my answer.
I never thought about that. She could bring me back, back to Elizabeth.
But what did she want? I pushed that out of my mind, I would risk whatever she wanted just to see Liz again.
"Fine. I'll make a deal."
She held out her hand, as if the shake my hand.
"I make deals differently, but it's nothing to be afraid of. Let's make a deal Victoria."
I took her hand and it started raining.
"Why is it raining?" I looked around, then back at her.
She smiled.
"I find peace in the rain."
And then I blacked out.