Morbidness

Today someone on the Go Teen Writers Facebook group asked what we thought death would look like if it was an entity. I tried to give a nice, neat answer like everyone else. Instead, this came out. Enjoy a bit of morbidness to enhance your day.




In a room full of people, he immediately commanded my attention. He was a full head taller than anyone else, yet no one gave him even a glance. Almost as if they couldn't see him. He scanned the room, looking for someone.

Try as I might, I couldn't age him. At first glance, he seemed possibly early twenties. At second glance, his features seemed even younger than that; at odds with his height. A moment later, he seemed as old as life itself. The longer I looked, the more confused I became.

His eyes fell on me. Dark eyes, nearly completely obscured by black hair. Cold, piercing eyes. He looked me over, appraising me. A satisfied smile played on his lips.

I froze as he looked at me, unable to move.

He slipped through the crowd like a wraith. No one noticed him as he slid between them, touching none. He moved with steady footing, yet his feet barely seemed to touch the ground. The same cold effiency that was in his eyes inhabited his stride.

As he neared me, I wished I could run. But he held me with the focused gaze of a lion stalking prey. I couldn't move if I tried.

He approached me. I hoped it was just my imagination, but I swore I felt a chill.

"Who are you?"

He bent down, getting much too close for comfort.

"I have something to show you." His voice came cold and breathy in my ear.

Panic told me to run. To break free of this strange man's spell and run.

"Who are you?" Why was that the only idiot question I could ask?

With the speed of a striking viper he grabbed my hand. His fingers were cold; they belonged on a man lying in a casket, not this boy standing in front of me.

My hand tingled, my fingers grew numb. I tried to jerk away, but my strength evaporated. I could only stand there and shake. The numb cold spread up my arm, indicated by deathly white skin in its path.

The man bent close again, whispering to me one last time. "The name's Death, darling."