The Awkward Love Life of DeathMature

It's hard for anyone to find true love or even work up the courage to ask someone out. But it's even harder when you're the God of Death and even just the slightest touch could mean disaster.
This story is about how even Death himself got a date.

It was the scent of freshly cut lawn and the sound of chirping crickets that Chris Dawnthy tried to focus on as he pulled the rope around his neck. Yet, no matter how hard he tried the beating of his own heart pounded loudly in his ears and he couldn’t help but notice his hands shake and become slick with sweat as he pulled on the knot.

He looked at the floor below him, but quickly regretted it as the navy blue carpet started to spin, closing his eyes Chris started to lurch forward feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably. 

Thane watched patiently as Chris Dawnthy struggled for breath and fought with the rope, unmoved by the tears and gasps of breath. Always, they always regret and as always they try to fight for life. But Thane knew that Chris made the noose properly, the rope was strong, there was no way Chris would ever escape from the grasp around his neck and it was almost tragic to see how the boy struggled.

Thane waited patiently, but never for too long.

As expected the light in the boy’s eyes faded into nothing.


Thane watched as the usual milky white cloud of smoke left his lips, the sweet familiar scent of vanilla comforting him in a homey state of mind as he relaxed on the couch, his muscles slowly untying their knots and the pain from walking all day slowly faded. Even though Thane did not look old, he looked as if he were in his early twenties, he felt old; years of watching the cruelty of humans and their inconsistencies always left Thane exhausted by the end of the day. He wanted to go to sleep, but it did not come for him, instead Thane butted out the smoke on the tray, got up from the couch and washed his face in the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror; he still looked the same as he did years ago, although, his usually short blonde hair was now a little longer than he liked and his blue eyes, that once sparkled with life, had now been dulled by apathy. Thane rolled his neck and stretched his back satisfied as he heard the bones cracking against each other.

Moving back to the lounge room Thane stared at his apartment; it was clear from the mess that a bachelor lived there, but it was clear that this bachelor hadn’t any friends, there were no missed calls or extra glasses that suggested that Thane ever had any friends. Sighing his gaze landed on the eyeless, human skull that looked at him with a disapproving stare. But instead Thane rolled his eyes at it, sat back down on the couch before taking out another cigarette from his coat pocket and lighting it up.

“You know, you should go out and meet people.” The skull began; he spoke with a strong Elizabethan accent, something that centuries of time still had not erased.

“I meet people all the time, Shakespeare, just a couple of hours ago I met a charming boy named Chris.” Thane replied his voice filled with sarcasm, mockery and apathy.

The skull was indeed that of legendary playwright Shakespeare, how Thane was able to acquire it was based on a game of chess and a bet. Shakespeare had lost and Thane had won the skull of Shakespeare and the soul of the playwright as well, which was trapped within the skull for eternity.

“How did the boy die?” Shakespeare asked, even after all these years the playwright had somehow managed to keep his humanity and sympathy in check, something that was slipping from Thane with each passing year.

“Suicide, he killed himself because he failed an exam.” Thane stated almost saying it as if he were talking about the weather, but he managed to force some sadness into his voice to keep Shakespeare from lecturing him about how he was losing the power of empathy towards humans.

“Poor boy, I feel so sorry for children now, they have so much to worry about and all the wars...” Thane rolled his eyes and groaned in frustration as Shakespeare started to babble on about the decline of humanities kindness and sense of morals. It was a speech that Thane just didn’t want to listen to, so instead he grabbed his wallet from the coffee table in front of him and headed out to the door.

“H-hey, where are you going?” Shakespeare called out in between his speech.

“Going to go and buy a CD to drown out your voice with.” Thane called back as he slammed the door and headed down the street.

The sun was unusually warm, the air was the only thing that reminded people that the season was winter and yet the air was not cold enough for people to rug up in scarves and pull on large woolly jumpers. The streets of London were busy with men and women in suites; drivers honking at each other angrily, the elderly walking timidly though the crowed and teenagers who lazily stood around corners of shops and passed a cigarette to one another.

It was business as usual in London on a weekday. 

The End

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