Every fibre of my being is telling me that what I'm seeing before me is real.
A hollow eyed, pale boned, dark cloaked figure claiming itself the Grim Reaper, towered over me. My eyes feel incredibly heavy as I try to determine the finer details of the figure. The curves of its cloak, the details of its hollowed-out face, but most difficult to get a visual on is a small hand sized object resting in its palm. The harder I stare at it, the less I feel I see. My eyes feel so heavy, as if ushering me into a deep sleep, but I refuse. The Grim Reaper is in front of me, if I fall asleep now, I feel like that would be the end. "So, I died" I half-halfheartedly mumbled to myself.
"Yes child" returned the figure bluntly. It's voice cold and coarse, devoid of life.
"What now?" I asked, this time with more emphasis, however, I feel as if I already know the answer to that. The figure is standing on the deck of a small wooden dingy. It also called itself the Ferry Man... man, so the Grim Reaper is a man?"
Come aboard my boat child, I shall escort you".
"Escort me where?" I snapped back, a little more harshly than I expected. The Grim Reaper seemed to ponder this a little before he returned.
"Not even I know where". I didn't like that. I have clearly died, and this place was something of a land between life and death I suppose. Which means... I'm not quite dead yet. I look around me, realising that everything looked... different. The sun had turned grey, like a thin sheet had been wrapped around, the world had dimmed. The grass of the field had turned a light grey colour and everything else looked, almost like concrete. The people too, Valentine, stood right next to me, perfectly still. He was looking down. Following his eyes, I found... me. I was on the ground, rolled up in a ball but also limp. A dark blotch of dark grey on the ground near my mouth and across some of my face. I wondered, how am I seeing myself. I inspected myself, looking at my arms, and then my legs, then my chest and finally I held myself. Well, I tried too, except my hands went right through my body and I could see through every part of me. It didn't take me long to realise what had happened, my soul had left my body.
"How did I die" I asked Death. That's what I have decided to call him. It's easier. Shorter.
"I do not know" he replied, simultaneously checking the unknown object in his palm. "It is time for us to go", he continued as I just suddenly realised, how the HECK IS THIS SKELETON TALKING TO ME! "Come aboard", he said lazily, as if this is some chore for him. Still starstruck at my useless realisation I just stared at him for a while. A stare which he returned, unfazed, unflinching. Snapping to my sensing I finally went to take a step forward when, something inside of me stopped me. Is this really, okay? To just die like this. To follow the literal incarnation of death and leave everything behind. To leave my family behind. My bright career as a soccer star. My team? What would they do without me? I glance again at my corpse on the ground, and the man that killed me, staring down at me. His face is stern. Does he not care that he killed me? "Child", began death but I cut him off.
"Why is he frozen?" I asked, "why are they all frozen?", I gestured around me, taking in the full picture now, of the stand, my team, the coaches, the Souths team, everyone, looking at my dead body on the ground. Some of them seemed angry, most of them seemed shocked, tears rolling down their cheeks. My team however were all furious, my coach especially. Revenge was the only thought on his mind. He was in the middle of sprinting through some poor Souths player when he was frozen, pure unsanctioned violence in his eyes. A few of my teammates have a look that suggests they're about to start pounding on Valentine. Jones particularly had his fists clenched and a look of pure blood lust on his face as he revved up for the killing blow, already within range.
Death began "In the land between life and death, time acts... differently. All life has a set amount of time, determined at birth. Once that time is over, a short intermediary is gifted, allowing me time to collect the lost soul." I stared at him blankly as he explained, jaw slightly drooping. "Here, time is moving at the same pace as the living realm, but we are moving faster. This creates a perceived affect that the living realm is frozen, when really, the inhabiting forces of the living realm are moving slower." I noticed that Death seemed more lively talking about this topic. Ironic. "It is for this reason that the world appears grey, rather than pitch black. Because light is still moving. It's just slower. Now you would think that it would appear more red or blue but..." Death trailed off, realising he was wasting time. "Enough of that", he said, attempting a smile, "it is time to go". He gestured for me to step onto the boat with his left hand. His right still holding the unknown object. I looked closely at his hand. It was massive, but most importantly I could see the details of it. Each of his long fingers consisted of three prongs barely touching, the last, however, fit succulently into the webbed like structure that was his palm. I wondered how tall he was. 9 feet, maybe 10 I'd guess. I hesitated.
"I think I'm good actually", I struggled, each word more difficult than the one before. He didn't need a face for me to know that he had furrowed at my words. He straightened up.
"You are... good?", that last word held a depth init that shook every translucent blob of whatever my soul is made of. I didn't need to understand it to know that I had said the wrong thing. I felt like a kid again. Back when I knew that what I had done was wrong but I didn't want to get in trouble so I would say whatever I thought would get me out of it. It always ended the same way. My words would trail off as I realised it wasn't working and either my parents or my teacher would be standing there, a look of disapproval and anger in their eyes. Except this was much, much worse than being scolded by my parents. This was Death. Straight up oblivion staring me down. Weighing me down, making me feel a thousand times heavier, even without my body. I could barely keep myself from sinking to the ground as Death cracked every one of his bones as he rolled to his full height. His hollow chest puffed out beneath his cloak, his head high but I could feel his hollow eyes examining me. His right hand tucked the still blurry object into his cloak, replacing it with a short pole, only a few feet long. He took a step forward, the boat creaking beneath his weight. The pole started growing, getting longer and longer until it reached its full length which was even taller than him. Death stamped his right foot in front of him, each of his bones groaning with powerful intent. As he twisted his hips he reached his right arm over his shoulder, his left hand supporting his stance. Death stared straight at me, fear consuming meas a long silver blade grew out from the end of the pole. The deafening sound of metal grinding metal as it grew, echoed in my ears. Now before me, the full power of Death, bearing a scythe which matched his size, perched, ready to kill me. The grey sunlight shining off the silver metal across Death only added to his intimidation. I couldn't move. I had to move but I couldn't. If I didn't Death would stick me with that scythe that could split me from bottom to top.With the fluidity of a professional baseball player, Death swung his scythe at me. The blade splitting the very air, leaving nothing in its wake. I had to move. I dropped to the ground. Well, my knees gave out on me, but it was good enough. The scythe gave me a fresh haircut and a ringing ear as it sliced by me. Before I had even a moment to recuperate Death was ready to swing again. If I had a body, I would have definitely pissed myself by now. Before Death could even swing his scythe, I scrambled on all fours to get away. My hands and legs plunged into the ground as a desperately tried to escape. It was like liquid.The further I got the less solid the ground became. And then it hit me. Death used a boat. I leaped with all my might as far as I could and sprawled about in an attempt to swim. But it was no good, it wasn't deep enough. I had to get further. I had to get outside of Death's range and swim for dear life. I leapt again, this time reaching deeper liquid. I swam as hard as I could. With a metallic swish like a hammer clashing steel Death's scythe reached between my desperate legs. Another few inches and I would have lost my ethereal jewels.But I didn't have time for contemplating close calls, I had to keep going. I risked checking behind me to see if Death was in pursuit, but to my surprise he had retreated his weapon, resting it against his shoulder as he checked the unknown object again. I elected not to test my luck and focused fully on swimming as far away as I could.