Silhouette
It is rare for me really. To feel actual emotion for the ones I take. To feel remorse for the ones I slaughter and drag down. To feel happy for the ones I protect and lead up. Nor pity, not even for the youngest or the most undeserving of my charges.
Who am I? You ask. That is probably the most simple, yet complicated question you might ever ask and most likely your last if I'm actually there to answer.
I have had many names given to me by you over the ages. The Fates. The Boatman. The Fiddler. Angle or Demon, depending on how I take you. Now -a- days the popular name you people have given me is the "Grim Reaper." If you haven't guessed by now, I'd pity you….if I had any to give. That's right; I'm the stuff of legend and your horror movies.
I am Death
Though, my actual name describes my function far better, and is quite a bit more mysterious and unknown to your kind.
Limbo
Yes. I am the neutral state. The plain of existence that circles Heaven, Earth and Hell.
And therein lies my problem. My neutrality, my lack of compassion or remorse. Contradictory to popular belief, I am not evil. And by the very nature of my name, neither am I good.
I am simply what I must be. My form changes depending on your fate and so does the way I deal with you. But indeed, it is rare for me to fill actual emotions for those who die, and if they know it or not, call my name.
And where am I now? You ask. I'm standing on a corner of some street in the middle of a moderately sized city, nestled in some country I'm to bored to remember the name of.
Why? You ask. That's simple. A little girl, Sally, is walking down the side walk and in twenty-seven seconds will cross the street along with others, only to get hit by some drunk driver. I hate drunk driver's, I've had to take more people in resent times because of them, then all those fallen in some petty war you people love to fight.
There are five people to be injured in this event that is about to transpire. One of hum being the person how will cause the incident to happen, the damned driver, how will only suffer a small concussion. Only poor Sally will fall. Truly sad really. A twelve year old girl will die today, all because of the stupidity of some of you humans.
This is actually the part of the mantel given to me that I hate most. To know exactly when, and how someone shall die. But my task is as crucial as the one given to Life, herself. So here I wait, on the corner of some street in the middle of a city, in some country I'm to bored to remember, for a girl who is going to die….
In 14 seconds