• The Hands of Death

    The young woman rested on the grave stone, a dense fog consuming her small frame. Her crimson eyes wandered as the sound of breathing became more clear. The young woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting to her feet. "So much for a romantic evening," she said softly.

    As she began heading for the iron gates of the vast graveyard, boney fingers slowly wrapped themselves around her throat. A bone chilling breath softly blew into her ear as the scythe was held at the base of her neck. She rolled her eyes. "You late, my love," she said calmly.

    She turned around to see the face of her beloved Death. A smirked was smeared across his face. "Forgive me love. I've had some things to clean up," he excused. She shook her head and smeared some of the blood off his face. Yes, Death wasn't all bones.

    In fact, Death's hands were the only visible bones that she knew of. He had a ghost white complexion, crimson red eyes that could frighten even the most fearless fool in the world. Black hair that was slicked with the blood of those who's 'time was up.' Cora loved the god more than anyone could.

    "Still gives you no excuse for being late, my dreadful." The god smirked, wrapping his arm around the young woman's waist. Cora was impressed by his attire. For once, he wore something other than that ghastly cloak. A plain pinstripe suit with a red tie. It was actually nice to see him in it. Cora smirked. "You clean up nice," she commented.

    Death laughed lowly. "Ya too kind my love." Death's bone-fingered hand grasped her own and the man began to lead her deeper into the cemetery. A twinge of excitement rushed through Cora's body as the darkness and fog began to consume them. She could hardly wait a moment longer as she pulled herself closer to the god.

    A small chuckle escaped from Death's lips as the unlikely couple began to trudge into the dark forests. It was pitch black out, not a thing could be seen. Animals made a chorus of sounds that enchanted the night. 'This couldn't be anymore perfect,' thought Cora, a smile dancing on her features.

    Suddenly, the two stopped in their tracks. "What is it my love?" Cora questioned. Death smirked. A snap of his bone fingers and candlelight lit the lovely scene. Cora gasped softly. A picnic was set up in the small clearing, rose petals draped across the sable blanket thrown upon the ground.

    "Death . . . this is-" The god pressed his finger lightly on his lover's lips.

    "No need to say anything, my love." His freezing lips pressed against her own lightly, entrancing the young woman with a feeling of romance and another unexplainable feeling. But she loved it. She loved every moment of it. It was perfectly to die for.

    As the couple dined in the moonlight and candlelight, a thought crossed Cora's mind. She loved the death god with all her being and never wanted to leave his side. But, what would happen when she grew old? Would he still want to be with her? And when time came for it, would he take her life willingly? These questions made her uneasy.

    Death noted her uncomfortable feeling and began to wonder what she was thinking. It bother him when he didn't know something, especially when it made his lover feel unwell. "Something the matter Cora?" he asked softly, caressing her face lovingly. The human didn't answer. She was afraid too. This troubled the god even more.

    Cora fiddled with her fingers, her eyes averting the god's crimson orbs. Would he be angry if she brought it up? She was unsure, and most definitely didn't want to make a mistake. She thought a bit more. Finally, she gathered the courage to ask the question. "Death . . . would you still . . . would you still love me even if . . . I was an old, crippled woman?"

    Death stared at her blankly for a minute, then did something unexpected of him. He laughed. Cora glowered at him in surprise. "I'm serious Death! What will you do once I've grown old and crippled?" she asked the laughing god. Death settled his laughter a bit, whipping a tear from is eye.

    "Oh, my love. This is why I brought you out here this evening." Cora looked at the god puzzled now. What did that mean? Death smiled a true smile and got down on one knee. Cora's eyes nearly fell out of her head. "My love, Cora Lexington Rouge, will you become my everlasting wife?" whispered the vice of Death. He pulled out a black velvet box and inside, an onyx set ring in the shape of a spider.

    Tears over filled Cora's eyes as she threw herself at the god. "Yes! Yes I'll be yours Death!" she cried, tears of joy spilling over her cheeks. She kissed the god ever so passionately as the ring was slipped onto her pale finger.

    She was the happiest girl to die.