A Short from Death Himself

Why do humans always hate me? Sure, I kill them, collect their souls, and pass
them on… But am I to be despised for doing my own job? Let me put it to you humansthat
are currently reading this little passage about yours truly- in a way that will make it
easier for you to understand. Got that? Right! Let us carry on then. Now let’s start of
with the basics and introduce one another. I am Turk Leviathan, also known as Death
and a large list of other names: Such names include, Dracula, Vlad the Impaler, Jersey
Devil, Antichrist, and Erebos. It is a pleasure to meet you, lower lifeforms.
Being Death is a strenuous and disturbing job. Looking someone in the eye as
you cut their soul from their body, not able to wreak vengeance on murderers or rapists
as I reap their victims. What I used to be and once was before becoming the Reaper…
That is nothing more than a distant memory. I can no longer look at myself in the mirror
and see the boy that always helped people, protected them as an angel. I’ve been
damned to turn my back on my true self as the black rose begins to flourish along my
inner being, my soul trapped by the thorns and unable to fight back, for fear of
succumbing to it completely.

I envy my previous self, who took their sweet life for granted and lost his wings
because of his father. The angel that shone so beautifully with his brother, now fallen
and damned, forced to kill and reap rather than protect and heal like he once did. The
wings of my angelic self have been ripped off, replaced by black wings, closer to that of
a bat’s than a dove’s. The wings of loathing, the seed of death, are also followed by
something else… Rebirth.

I am no longer a healer or guardian. I am a Reaper now, and extractor of souls. I
must kill to live, for I cannot die by the Divine’s light yet. I must see my brother one last
time, and kill my own father to avenge those that have fallen by his hand. I am not just a
Reaper, I have been reborn as an Angel of Retribution. I will purge the cosmos of those
that leave bodies in their wake, I will purge the cosmos of those that take pleasure from
the pain of others… But most of all… I will purge this cosmos of my father.
I do not wish for you to like me, human, but I do want you to understand me,
such as I understand you and your race. I want you to understand that I do not kill with
malice, I kill with purpose, with the need to keep the balance of life and death.