In the beginning, there was life. Shortly after the beginning, however, there was death, and he's been here ever since. At first it was just a presence. Never seen but always in evidence. A formless mass lurking under the great shadow of life. In time, death had evolved along with life. As life had grown and matured, death had morphed and matched. There were vast differences of course. Life was loud, bright and obvious, but death, being of the darkest subject, spent the early parts of existence in secret. After all, it was not something 'well to be' slime and prehistoric creatures discussed. This all changed, however, with the emergence of humans. Humans, and for that matter, trolls, dwarfs, werewolves, vampires, zombies, and any other beings intelligent enough to whine about the price of fish these days, weren't just interested in death, they were obsessed with death. Even before the invention of music with rocks in, and the death-crazed makeup-ed youths that spawned, it was on the daily list of tavern discussions. It was from these dark human discussions and fears that death's whole modern image had been hatched. In effect, human perceptions had gifted death with physical form. They could have done better with the clothes, he'd always thought.
He? That was another perception issue. Death couldn't actually put a bony finger on when he had first come to think of himself as a 'he', but a 'he' he was, even if he did lack the anatomy to prove it. It didn't really seem to matter anyway; is not a soldier still a soldier without his sword? Death had once proudly tried out this metaphor on Albert, but had just received the rather confusing answer, "No, it's a scythe not a sword." Anyway, this same scythe, which was indeed not a sword, was currently at Death's side as he rode out to duty on the dark night sky. He made a terrifying vision draped entirely in black, a mocking expression etched on his face. Lightning streaked under his horse's mighty hooves, and a crash of thunder accompanied every step.
"GOOD BOY, BINKY." Said Death affectionately, completely ruining the effect.
The great horse thrashed its head high and slowly decreased it's pace to a walk as they neared their destination. Coming to a halt on a barren hill, Death dismounted and turned his gaze to a small cottage in the distance. He raised his scythe and began his approach.
*
Inside the cottage, the only room was cool and still. It was a bare room; certainly not the dwelling of a rich man, but what little it did have was meticulously clean and lovingly kept. A single framed iconograph of a women sat on an otherwise bare table, and an ancient stove filled the corner. A small bed was positioned carefully next to the fire. It was here by the fire that Nanny Ogg stood resolutely over a lifeless body. She raised her head slightly as the room seemed almost to darken a touch. "No," she said quietly.
"I'M AFRAID SO," Death answered.
"No." Nanny's voice was firmer now.
There was a brief pause.
"YES," Death countered.
"No," Nanny persisted.
"YES."
"No!"
There was a longer, more uncomfortable pause, which was eventually broken by an immortal sigh.
"YES."
"No!"
"MRS OGG, WHY MUST WE GO THROUGH THIS LITTLE PANTOMIME EVERY TIME?" said Death wearily.
"Because, as I've told you before, when Nanny Ogg says she'll look after someone, she looks after the bugger!"
"IT IS NOT FOR YOU OR I TO DECIDE WHEN."
"Maybe not, but if you come a step closer you'll be feeling the back of my hand sonny boy!"
"THIS IS ONLY DELAYING MATTERS. IF I DO NOT TAKE HIM TONIGHT I WILL JUST HAVE TO COME BACK TOMORROW," said Death. "…OR TUESDAY," he added as an afterthought.
Nanny, seeing Death was not planning to advance, relaxed. "I'm sure you will," she said more cheerfully.
Death sighed. "AND YOU'LL BE WAITING FOR ME I PRESUME?"
She winked at him knowingly.
"I HAVE MY DUTIES."
"We both have our duties."
"YOU ARE A VERY TRYING WOMEN, MRS OGG." There was a hint of amusement in the voice.
"Thank you." Nanny mistook most criticism for compliments. It made the world a safer place to live.
*
Time was not relevant to Death, but if it had been, a lot would have passed before he'd finally returned to the gloom of his study. Not that he'd noticed. It wasn't really something Death concerned himself with. Tonight, however, he'd barely noticed anything, time related or not (which perhaps explained why he'd almost fallen on a pile of clothes in the hall. Most annoying when you have the ability to walk through walls.) Death had something else on his mind tonight. He wouldn't let it affect his work, of course. He'd gone about his 'duties' with his usual assured efficiency. It was just… intriguing.
"ALBERT?" He called loudly.
Nothing.
"ALBERT?"
"Yes?" A harassed and bitter Albert appeared at the door.
"ALBERT, MAY I ASK YOU SOMETHING?"
"If it's about the mess, then I'm sorry but I've been busy." The response was snapped.
"NO, I…"
"I'm the only one who does anything in this house. That cursed raven causes more mess than a flock of eagles, and you'll never believe what that rat did with…"
"IT IS NOT THE ABOUT THE MESS, ALBERT." The blue glow of Death's eyes intensified.
"What is it then, master?"
"I DESIRE A FEMALE."
Albert opened his mouth to answer, then paused. "What for?"
"WELL… ERM… WELL WHAT DOES ANY MALE BEING WANT A FEMALE BEING FOR?"
"Well I don't want one."
"YES, BUT…"
"She'd be coming round here girlying things up with scented air freshener and bath salts." A look of distaste crossed his face. "Just when I have the place perfect too."
"I DO NOT WISH HER TO GIRLY THINGS UP." The phrase came awkwardly, "I WISH TO COURT HER."
"You're wasting your time. It'll all end in tears, mark my words."
"I DO NOT SEE WHY. I UNDERSTAND LOGIC AND THE WAYS OF THE WORLD BETTER THAN ANY MORTAL."
"Then you have no hope with a women, master. You have to forget all about logic with them."
Death hesitated. "THIS IS MOST UNLIKE YOU, ALBERT."
Albert muttered something incomprehensible and waved a hand dismissively. A brief silence ensued while both stared uncomfortably into the grey fire.
Death searched for words. "DO YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE ON HOW TO GAIN HER ATTENTION?"
Albert shrugged. "Just be yourself."
"MYSELF?"
Albert looked him up and down. He saw the black robe, the lifeless house, the razor sharp scythe. "Well, perhaps not," he conceded. "Why don't you just get yourself down the docks with a few coins like everyone else?"
"YOU THINK SHE WILL FREQUENT THE DOCKS AT NIGHT? PERHAPS I COULD ASK HER?"
"Err… I don't think that would be advisable."
"NO?"
"Look, master, I'm perhaps not the ladies man I've built myself up to be. In fact, women are sort of banned in the wizard trade."
"OH?"
"Why don't you try getting a book from the library?"
"THE LIBRARY? AH, YES. THANK YOU, ALBERT."
*
A change in the air was almost imperceptible to human senses. It was, however, like a crack of thunder to the more accomplished senses of a certain orange primate.
"Oook?" The librarian barely looked up from his work.
"GOOD AFTERNOON. I TRUST YOU HAVE NO OBJECTION TO ME BROWSING?"
"Oook."
"THANK YOU."
Death made his way through the huge maze of shelves, paused briefly to smile at the 'How to be immortal' section, and continued on to a rather dusty shelf near the back of the library (Well, near the back in a non L-Space sense).
"AH, HERE WE ARE," he said to no one in particular. "ROMANCE."
He selected a couple of likely looking books and settled down at the nearest table. The first book, 'The Karma suntra for the vertically challenged' was by one Casanunda the dwarf. It boasted that the author was the world's second greatest lover.
"HMM," muttered Death, "THE SECOND?" He pushed it aside. "THAT'S JUST THE SAME AS FIRST LOSER."
The remaining book, 'Charming a lady for idiots', seemed a more reasonable match to his needs. A money-back guarantee too? Death was impressed. Suspiciously, he read the small print. A disclaimer confirmed the offer applied to all except Corporal Nobbs of the city watch and one Foul Old Ron. Deciding he was covered, Death turned to the first page.
Half an hour's reading later, he felt almost confident. The book was very informative. Every page was crammed full with invaluable nuggets of information, and Death certainly approved of the sober black covering. He checked back over his notes. He'd learnt he should always act relaxed and confident in front of females. Apparently, women can smell fear. He'd learnt that he should always compliment women on their appearance, and to never mention if they'd put on weight… especially if they had. The book went on to offer hundreds and hundreds of tips and tricks. It was like gold dust! How could he fail with insider knowledge like never leaving the toilet seat up, and being nice to kittens?
*
The knock rapped on the ancient wood, startling Nanny from her sleep. "Wh… wha… bugg…" she stuttered. "Who is it?" There was no answer. "This had better be important," she muttered, and after a quick check on her patient, stormed across the room and swung the door open violently. There she stopped, taken back.
"It isn't like you to knock," she said suspiciously. "Anyway, you still can't have 'im."
"I AM NOT HERE FOR THE SICK MORTAL."
"Why are you here then? Public relations?"
"NOT EXACTLY." Death would have been blushing if he were capable. "I WAS WONDERING IF YOU'D DO ME THE HONOUR OF… I MEAN… THAT IS… ERM…"
"Spit it out."
"I WAS WONDERING IF YOU WOULD PERHAPS ACCOMPANY ME TO DINNER?"
"Dinner?"
"YES."
A shocked expression turned quickly to suspicion. "Is this some kind of trick to take Gavin here?" She gestured back to the stricken man.
"NO, I ASSURE YOU."
Nanny scratched her chin. "Surely you're not making a joke?"
"I NEVER JOKE."
"Hmm." She considered this. "That's not necessarily a good thing, you know."
"OH."
Nanny's face softened. "Will it be somewhere decent, with large portions?"
"AS YOU WISH."
"You've twisted me arm. Come on then."
A pause.
"WHAT, NOW?"
"Yes?"
"RIGHT NOW?"
"Yep. I can get one of me daughter-in-laws to hold the fort here." Fort? 'Slum' would have been a better description, thought Death.
"OH… ERR… VERY WELL."
*
The restaurant was warm and the lights were dim. Death leaned over to the nearest waiter. "IS THIS A SUITABLE PLACE TO BRING A LADY?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so sir, the strippers are only in on Saturdays."
"IS IT ROMANTIC THOUGH?"
The waiter looked around him. He saw the dirty walls, the brawling warriors at the bar. "About as romantic as you can get in the shades," he said simply.
"EXCELLENT." Death turned to Nanny, "SHALL WE?"
"Shall we what?"
"ERR… INTAKE SUSTENANCE FOR CONVERSION TO ENERGY."
"Eh?"
"Madam?" The waiter saved the day by gesturing to a table.
After seating herself heavily, Nanny ordered for both of them. Well, that is she ordered for herself and an embarrassed Death had asked for the same (much to the amusement of the waiter who'd never heard a man ask for 'somewhere to put me handbag' before). "Well, this is nice," she said guardedly.
"YES." Death adjusted his robe self-consciously and gathered his courage. "MRS OGG…"
"Gytha, please."
"MRS PLEASE?"
She sighed. "Forget it. Mrs Ogg will do fine."
"AH."
"What were you going to say?" she prompted.
"ERM." Death re-gathered his train of thought. "YOU HAVE SATISFACTORY LEGS," he said eventually. The book had been very enthusiastic about compliments.
"Do I?"
"WELL YES. I IMAGINE THEY ARE USEFUL FOR WALKING AND SUCH?"
Nanny picked up a full lobster from the arriving plate and took a huge bite. "Can't complain."
"QUITE."
Well, that was the end of that path of conversation. Death felt awkward. 'Relaxed and confident' the book had said. He tried to act 'loose' and leaned back in his chair in a precarious manner. "I NEVER EVER LEAVE THE TOILET SEAT UP." He mentioned casually.
Nanny looked at him bemused. Were all males mentally challenged, she wondered, or just the ones she knew? "Yeah, well it'd be hard to if yours is a hole in the garden like mine."
Death didn't have a chance to answer. A violent choking noise erupted from the next table, shocking them into silence. "I didn't realise this was a working dinner?" Nanny commented eventually.
"EXCUSE ME." Death rose and paced slowly towards the condemned man who was rubbing his eyes and looking tentatively around him. "GOOD FOOD IS IT NOT?"
The man's eyes widened. "You're him aren't you?"
"YES."
"You're… you're… the guy from the next table!"
"YE… WELL YES, I AM ALSO THAT," Death conceded.
Realisation dawned on the man. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
"YES." No point in flowering things up, Death always thought.
The man shrugged. "So what happens now?" Death was mildly surprised at how easily some humans accepted their demise. It was almost as if some were glad to have it all over with. He glanced thoughtfully at the man's stern-faced wife. "THAT IS NOT FOR ME TO SAY."
"Ah. No doubt I will soon see?"
"NO DOUBT."
The Scythe flashed in the dim light and the man's image began to fade.
"ERM…WAIT A MOMENT."
The image reappeared with a puzzled look. "Yes?"
"BEFORE YOU GO, COULD I ASK YOU A QUESTION?"
"Go ahead."
"HOW IS IT GOING? DO YOU THINK SHE LIKES ME?"
"Who?"
"MY LADY FRIEND." He gestured.
"I couldn't say." Even the dead didn't want to risk offending Nanny. No one dared upset witches on pain of… well… pain.
"WELL WHAT IS SHE DOING NOW, IS SHE LOOKING?"
"She's stuffing her face with chicken by the look of it."
"AH."
"Anything else?"
"IS MY ROBE STRAIGHT?"
The man leaned his head to one side. "Yes, I'd say so. Very smart."
"YOU'RE VERY KIND."
"So… I'll be off then yes? Death waits for no man I expect?" he chuckled.
"NO MAN," Death muttered bitterly under his breath. "YES," he said more loudly. The man faded for a second time, and Death returned to his seat, an apologetic look on his face.
Nanny waved off his explanations, cleared her plate, and put down her fork. "Well that was very nice."
"DELIGHTFUL," Death agreed. He hadn't touched any food. There was another uncomfortable pause, and Death selected a neutral piece of wallpaper to rest his gaze on.
Nanny watched him for a moment then sighed. "Can I be straight with you?"
"PLEASE."
"I think you're barking up the wrong tree."
Death wondered what canine mortals and floral beings had to do with the situation. "WHICH TREE?"
She ignored him. "Don't get me wrong, I'm very flattered, but I'm an old woman now."
"AGE IS OF NO CONSEQUENCE TO ME."
"It just wouldn't be right."
"WHAT IS RIGHT IN THIS WORLD?"
"Sure I tried it all when I was a girl," she continued, ignoring him, "proper little hellcat I was. But even back then I doubt I'd have dated an anth… anta… anther…"
"AN ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION?"
"Yes! It just isn't the done thing." She shuddered. "What would Esme say?"
"IT 'S THE SCYTHE ISN'T IT?"
"No, no."
"THE ROBE? TOO DRAB? I CAN GET ALBERT TO ADD SOME FANCY RIBBONS?"
"I'm sorry."
"YOU NEED NOT OFFER PITY MRS OGG, I DO NOT FEEL REGRET."
"Of course."
"IF I WAS A MORTAL THOUGH? IF I WASN'T…"
"Who knows?" She interrupted.
"INDEED."
The ensuing silence was ended abruptly by the appearance of the waiter. "All finished then? So, how would you like to pay?" he asked cheerfully.
He then adopted an interesting shade of purple as they both turned slowly to stare at him.
*
It was dark by the time Death returned to the dark house above reality, but then you have to consider it was always dark in this particular house. He found Albert, as usual, sitting with the Death of rats by the fire.
"So?" Albert didn't turn around.
"I SAID I'D GO BACK FOR HIM ON TUESDAY."
"That wasn't what I meant."
Death reached over to the death of rats and scratched its
chin affectionately.
Albert nodded and turned dramatically to face him. "Master, you just learnt humanity's rule number one."
"I THOUGHT THAT WAS 'DON'T RUN WITH SCISSORS'?"
"That's rule number two."
"AH."
END.
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Ok, I admit I have no idea if eagles flock. I suspect they
don't (uncooperative birds).
By the way, rule number three is '