Cubeworld – A Tale of Death and his Destruction

Death swept over the Cube, covering the world in a layer of darkness before slamming on the brakes of his 1970 vintage jet-black stallion just in time to watch the ground disappear from under his feet

Life was never simple on the Disc. Well, it used to be a disc anyhow, until one day, poof!, there goes the infinite symmetry of that perfect circle and suddenly the Disc's now cube-shaped.

Not that Death was complaining. There were a lot of worse things to be complaining about than a dice-shaped Disc. Like, um, Death, for instance.

But then again, there had been a few other changes that the funny noises had brought with them. Such as Rincewind as Archchancellor. Death smirked. Yes, that was a surprising twist of fate, considering the poor boy had barely enough magic in him to keep his luggage in control, let alone run the UU. Although even his luggage had become vegetarian since, well, the term that was being used was the Inversion of the Disc. As in Invasion, but with less casualties and more calamities.

Death had always liked Rincewind. No heroics, no courage, no common sense. He could practically feel the sand pouring through his hourglass at double speed. Who said you couldn't control your own fate?

Speaking of hourglasses and fate and all that other stuff, Death reached into his white cloak. (Colours had also changed over, in case you had only skimmed the first paragraph and missed the part where Binky is now a black stallion. But there are always inconsistencies in magic, as I'm quite positive you'll find many in this chapter so please note this is intentional. Definitely intentional.)

Death pulled an hourglass out of his cloak and looked at it. The last few grains were trickling down the hourglass. It was a large black, gothic hourglass. Typical of a rockstar. Death hated the musicians. It was always with the drama and the readiness and then the minute the scythe comes out, bang!, different story altogether. The crying, the moaning, the "I'm above Death."

Turning Binky around, he galloped in the direction of the UU, now perfectly visible, before disappearing into the night.

"Look mate, I know you've got a job to do an' all but I'm out there doing my thing. I'm mid-set, I'm all focused. Come on, I gotta go out with a bang. One last song."

Death stared blankly past the ageing rocker, scythe in hand. He had this rubbish for the past half-hour and if it wasn't for etiquette and his approaching audit, he would have sliced his head off without a second thought.

you see

Death coughed.

you see



With a slightly embarrassed smile on his face, he chuckled nervously, trying to ignore the queer looks he was getting from the human in front of him.

let me

He furrowed his skeletal brow in confusion before an idea struck him like a hammer to the noggin. He yelled.

let me try that again

Death was stunned into silence, a very rare occurrence on the Cube. He stumbled back onto the stage before collapsing on the floor and bursting into tears.

Michael, who was way past dead by now, bent down and hesitating for a second, patted Death gently on the back.

"There, there. It'll be fine."

you

you

Death sobbed uncontrollably again, his cloak drenched with snot.

ill lose everyones respect i wont be allowed to harvest again

Michael, slightly confused by this last sentence, thought it would be best to keep quiet.

Death blew his nose in his sleeve before a new wave of determination hit him.

im going to see my doctor

Michael let Death sweep past. He wasn't the first person to wonder why Death needed a physician.

"Does this mean I get to live?"

Death gasped. There was always something. Right now though, there were more important things to worry about.

Such as why he was speaking in lower case.