We are Death
Prompt 1 – Valentine’s Day
We are Death. A collective consciousness devoted to the observation and recording of a person’s life during the moment in which it ends. We are not skeletons with black cloaks and flaming scythes. Nor are we ferrymen or pale riders of ashen horses. We are archivists, librarians, glorified paper-pushers, and note-takers. We are mortals with a job to do.
And the pay really sucks.
The payroll department was the worst. They were number-crunchers and fact-checkers. Our salary was determined solely on the average salary made by the residents in the area in which we were assigned. So living in West Baltimore meant I struggled just as much as those around me.
I once had a bright future. I was going to school to become a software engineer when The Other Side recruited me. I was torn away from my studies months before graduation. It wasn’t something I could say “no” to. It wasn’t something anyone could say “no” to.
Once you were recruited, that was it. Often you received Time of Deaths at an instant’s notice. When that happened, you had to stop what you were doing to attend. Maybe Clark Kent could duck out of the Daily Planet whenever a woman screamed, but if you pulled that stunt in real life, you’d be fired.
But that didn’t mean you couldn’t take side gigs. Personally, I made extra money fixing broken cell phones and reselling them. It didn’t bring in much. But enough for a scattered bottle of wine or a dinner out. Or, on the rare occasion like tonight, a dinner for two.
I stood outside of Pop’s Diner, bundled up in my second-hand, wool jacket. One gloved hand shoved deep into my pocket and the other gripping a bouquet of roses. My breath billowed in front of me like thick, puffy clouds. Baby’s breath fell from the bouquet as I turned it to the side to check my watch. I noted the time and a splash of relief washed over my nervousness.
“I’m not late,” sang a woman’s voice to my left.
Vanessa Shaw moved towards me, parting the snowflakes with her bright smile and mischievous eyes. It didn’t matter how thick her hood was, or how much of her face was obscured by her wool scarf, she was recognizable.
I smiled back at her and embraced her in a warm hug when she got close enough.
“Nice watch, by the way.” Her warm breath was welcome against my face as she pulled away. “Looks expensive. Well, other than the crack in the face.”
I chuckled. “Found it in a dumpster. It had stopped working but it wasn’t hard to fix. The hard part was getting all the blood out of the wrist strap.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lovely.”
“It’s Baltimore,” I said. “Everything’s got a little bit of blood on it.”
She eyed the flowers in my hand. “Even those?”
I handed them to her with a sheepish grin. “No. Not these.”
Her smile widened and she held them close to her chest. “Thank you.”
We hurried into the warm diner and brushed the snow from our jackets.
“Well, well, well,” boomed a deep voice from behind the counter. “It’s about time the two of you got together.”
“Now, now, Pop,” Vanessa chuckeld. “It’s not like that.”
I shot her a teasing glance before chiming in. “Just two friends gettin’ something to eat.”
“We just both happened to be hungry at the same time.”
Pop erupted into a wheeze of laughter. “Uh huh,” he said.
The other two men at the counter succumbed to his contagious smile and chuckled along with him.
“I’ve seen all kinds here,” Pop said. “All it takes is good food and good conversation. By the time you both leave here, you’ll be plannin’ the next time you might happen to be hungry at the same time again.”
I could feel my smile waiver but I kept it in check.
Vanessa began sliding into a stool at the counter but I stopped her.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What? I like to sit when I eat.”
I gestured towards an empty booth by the window.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “It’s a diner! You’re supposed to sit at the counter with a milkshake.”
I moved behind her and caught her jacket as she let it fall down her shoulders, revealing a low cut top that showed off her caramel skin.
“With two straws?” I asked, plopping onto the stool next to her.
She smiled and ran her eyes over me. “We’ll see.”
Pop appeared in front of us. He pointed a finger at me.
“Chili burger, onion rings, and a cherry Coke.
I nodded. “And for the lady?”
“Easy,” he said. “BLT with fries and a Cream Soda.”
“Do you memorize everyone’s orders, Pop?” she asked.
“Nah. Just the ones I like.”
He let out another wheezy laugh before disappearing through the small door into the kitchen. Pop wasn’t just the owner, he was also the only cook.
“I’ll admit,” Vanessa said. “I was surprised when you asked me out.” Her eyes drifted to the flowers resting on the counter. “And even more surprised when I saw those.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well we’ve been volunteering at the soup kitchen for a year now. You’ve barely said more than two words to me.”
I shrugged, ignoring the guilty feeling in my gut. “I’m shy.”
She laughed. “Oh really? Well why now?”
Pop placed our drinks in front of us and I glanced briefly at the clock above the mirror behind the counter, taking note of the time but trying not to dwell on it.
“Life’s short,” I said.
She sipped her drink through the red straw that blended into her lipstick. “Fair enough.”
We made small talk for the better part of an hour. She told me about her family: three brothers and respectable parents. I told her I was an only child, raised by my dad after my mom skipped out on us.
I kept pretty quiet for the most part, letting her speak and just enjoying what she had to say.
Then the moment finally came. The entire room froze and the air felt like it had thickented. A tiny bead of blood sat under Vanessa’s nose, suspended in time. I looked into her eyes and was hit by the familiar white light.
I was no longer in Pop’s. Instead, I stood in the middle of a large room. Images were projected on the walls around me. They flashed like a slideshow in fast forward.
Vanessa’s entire life played before me. Not just the highlights, every single second of her 23 years.
I absorbed them, letting them fill my mind so they could be transferred to the other side.
Once it was over, the walls settled on the final frame. The last thing she ever saw. The face of an aging black man who’s smile wasn’t as genuine as he thought it was. Whose beard wasn’t as even as he perceived it to be in the mirror that morning. It was me.
Then, the images vanished and the room went dark and a figure stepped forward. It was an old man holding a red candle. The flame danced in time with shadows covering his face. A reaper. While I was tasked with recording Vanessa’s life, he was the one who ended it.
I nodded to him, confirming that the data had been collected. He nodded back and blew out the candle.
In an instant, I was back in my own body. Vanessa was on the floor, blood streaming down her face and her eyes were wide and afraid. The bouquet I had bought her was on the floor next to her, the tiny card in a pool of blood that speckled the poorly-written message. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
The screaming in the room faded and a voice in my head spoke.
“Good job, Death 14148. The life record of Vanessa Shaw has been received. Stand by for your next Time of Death.”