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Was he Death?

Otto stared in dumbfounded horror. This couldn't be real. Was he really going to die? His heart hurt. A painful, physical hurt. He didn't want to die. It scared him. More terrifying than bugs. Than the dark, or the ocean. Death was the ultimate unknown, beyond his control.

Why did he have to die? What happened to make him die? Why was he being called a main character, of all things? Just before he died...

Nevada's face always put him at ease. Even a sad sort of ease. She was lovely, pure and beautiful. He wanted to see her again. All the pain, all the sadness. It welled up, as she closed his eyes, he could feel that pain burn behind his eye lids.

He didn't want to die, but he really, really wanted to rest.

A second chance.

"Just a message?" That was all? It seemed lofty for something as priceless as a life. Otto's heart wavered, his core trembled. He was so scared of dying, so afraid of ceasing to exist. he loved living. The good, the bad, the horrible. He'd take it all. No matter how bad it got, being alive was everything.

"D...Deal... I'll pass on whatever message you want."

Bad news. This was very bad news.

Don't be selfish. Something bigger was at hand here.

Is your life really worth saving?

Don't do it.

Die with honour.

Just die.

Not worth the world.

Otto worriedly felt his hand become clammy, tentatively raising it to shake hands with Death. He kept his eyes focused on Nevada's face instead.

I don't want to die. I know I'm being selfish, but I just don't want to die. I'm scared.


Otto shook the skeletal hand.

Otto stared at Death incredulously as he spoke. Why leave a will? He was Death. Wasn't Death dying some kind of horrible impossibility? Wouldn't it destroy the circle of life, creating a legacy of elf people?

Geez, now he was thinking of nerdy Bix type s**t. Otto needed to cleanse his mind.

Still, it was troubling that something as important as all this was being trusted with Otto. He wanted to question why, as he always did. Why was his favourite way to start a sentence in his pondering. However, once again, Otto simply enjoyed being trusted at all with something. As such, he blindly wished to follow and fulfill it.

Otto opened his mouth, hoping to ask who exactly he was supposed to give these things to, and when. However, Death said the C word.

By God. This man knew him well.

Otto accepted the bar of chocolate, wasting no time in opening it. He had questions, but as far as he was concerned, Death had done him a good many favours already. "Um.. Thanks. Good day to you too, I guess." He answered awkwardly, turning to exit the room.

He was back. So he really had been hospitalized? Otto wearily blinked back fatigue. He was never much of a morning person. It took a long time for him to garner the strength to sit up at all. The bouquet was noticed first. It's card gave him a dreadful feeling of anxiety. Worries. Questions.

He looked down, opening his hand to find a small, black marble. His brows furrowed, and worries of the state of his health were put on the back burner in lieu of his curiosity regarding the object.

He held it between his thumb and forefinger, looking at it closer. Why a marble?

Otto hated that question. It put him on edge.

Maebe had asked him once, what motivated him to get up every morning. Otto replied with routine, inertia. It was then when he first realized he had nothing that made him want to wake up every morning. Friends got him through day to day life, but was friendship what he wanted? He had it, sure. Simply living, was that really a goal? A motivation for breathing?

There had to be something. A purpose to keep him wanting to be alive, and live. He survived because dying scared him. He fought to live because he was selfish. But what did he want from life?

Otto huffed, lying back down and staring at his new gift with uncertainty. What even was this thing? It just gave him another worry to question himself on in his already worry plagued mind. Was it the marble of indecision? That suited him fairly well. But how did he wake up with this? Did it just appear from thin air? A gift from the same jerk off who got him condolence flowers?

Otto groaned.

"What the ******** do I want, huh?" He stared up lazily, pondering aloud to himself. He had a million questions without answers. He felt like he traversed his life through a fog he could never see past. He wanted to know the answers without having to ask.

He wanted clues to his puzzles. He wanted knowledge, or a heads up.

A light to break away the darkness he so feared.