A series of chapters written from the perspective of Death. Each chapter will feature a different character's final moments as Death prepares to take them away. Chapter one: Beth
UPON THE REAPER'S CALL
So, just as the description states, this story will be told from the point of view of the personification of Death (picture the Grim Reaper if that helps you). Each chapter will be devoted to the death of a character from the Walking Dead. Death will be addressing someone other than the character that is dying, most likely the person who killed them or the person who was most affected by their death. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Chapter One: Beth
Character being addressed: Daryl
It was so quick. So fast. One minute you were laughing, drinking, watching the moonlight dance in her eyes. Her big blue eyes, so perfect that it seemed they had to be a gift from God. Even if you didn't believe in God, you believed in miracles. But, as a side effect, you had to believe in me too.
I was all around you, almost on you, every step you took. Every day you were alive, was just another day that you got away from me. Even before the world went to hell, I was close to you. I knew your name well and your brother's even more so. You believed in me, alright. You had to. And you hated me for what I did to you, what I did to everyone around you. You hated that you would, one day, be forced to lay subdued in my arms. And all I could do was pity you.
But, my god, you couldn't believe how fast it happened. How fast she was able to slip away from you. You had her. You had her. And then, in a fit of walkers and fluttering leaves, she was gone. The same cross that she worshiped was what you saw as she sped away. For a good few hours, you were so sure that I had taken her.
But I'm not that cruel. At least, that's what I tell myself. Despite my reputation amongst humans, I try my best to be as lenient as possible. Beth had to die in the hands of those officers, that was her destiny. As much as I wish I could, I couldn't change that. A human's destiny is not my area of intervention - I cannot change it. Only prolong it. I had been especially cruel to you throughout your life. I had taken your mother, your brother, your friends. I had to wait, until you were no longer alone, to take her too.
And there she was again. In that ominous hallway, stitches embedded into her cheek. She was in your grasp again and you were so sure that, this time, you were not going to let her get away from you. If it weren't for your overwhelming trance, you'd demand who had given her those stitches on her face. So you could repay them with your fist. As she walked toward you, your fingers wrapped tightly around her shoulder, they brought her in close to you. She was back. You were so sure of it.
But it was not even a minute later that she left you again. Ran from your side, wrapped her arms around that boy. She took his place. But that was Beth. Always doing the right thing. Just like that night with the swirling leaves and the rumbling car, it was all happening too fast for you to catch it. The scenario evolved so quickly that you realized, too late, that you were losing her again. Her golden hair, her narrow lips, her naive soul. Why did she have to be so goddamn perfect? Why did you have to love her so much? And why did she have to leave you again?
I was waiting close by. I always was. But, at this particular moment, I felt like I was looming over you, betting against myself on how hard you'd cry that night. On how much you'd hate me after I'd take her from you. Her soul was willing and ready, her body weak and fragile. I had to do it now, it was her destiny. Her youth and purity made the task challenging for me. Despite what humans think, my compassion is constantly getting in the way of my job. To take from this world and deliver to another.
"I get it now," she said. But even she didn't understand the weight of those words. She didn't even know what it was that she got.But that was because it was far too much to put into words. She saw me there, standing behind Dawn in my silent, haunting manner. She looked at me in the face, something humans rarely ever dare to do. She looked past the shadow of my hood and saw herself in me. Because she would become one with me in no less than a handful of moments. It was I that she had gotten.
Gunshot. The sound rang through that hallway, shaking you. Her blood sprayed like the juices from a pomagrantate, staining the floor and the walls red. Time seemed to freeze as this horrible terror fabricated. It was time for me to step forward and do what I had come for. What I had been anticipating ever since that night you first lost her.
As her body slumped to the ground, her soul swelled inside it; frightened and cold. It reached to me as I bent over for it, grasping it in my hands. She was so fragile, I was afraid to move her. But then I saw you advancing forward. Your gun was drawn, held at a steady aim, right at my head. Your face contorted with tears and pain, you couldn't see beyond the fact that she was gone. With the way you seemed to look right at me, and the conviction you held your gun with, I could've sworn that you could see me.
You didn't care that Dawn's trigger had been pulled on account of her reflex. You didn't care that she was instantly regretfully; her pleas and remorseful expression meant nothing to you. You wanted her dead. And you'd be damned if you didn't get what you wanted.
In a matter of moments, I was cradling two souls in my arms, hovering above you. All of you. Tears stained your cheeks, soaked into your skin and the hair on your chin. I was expecting an open fire; for bullets to fly and for the hallway to be cleared of anything living. In short, a big clean up for me. But, to my surprise, that is not what transpired that day. Not even close. The ceasefire that was agreed upon reminded me that humans could be good. That they can put away their anger and ache to preserve the lives of themselves and others. Too many times before, humans have looked at me and accepted me. As a being such as myself, I must tell you this; there is nothing more terrifying than a human that wants to meet me.