Amoureux

What if you fell in love with a grim reaper?

As you stood over the newly deceased, peering down upon the body, your body, a cold chill crept in. Your breath became ragged, as if the air went thin all at once. You thought at first it was the shock of seeing your own corpse, but the growing feeling that you were not alone nagged at the back of your mind. Giving in to the paranoia, you looked up and started at the sight of the figure standing in front of you, seemingly waiting.

It appeared to be the skeletal remains of a wildclaw, fleshed out by a shadowy form that looked like it was rendered from captured spirits blurring in and out of existence. The figure was draped in a ragged black cloak with a heavy hood obscuring half its face, dried roses and brittle old lace decorating the frayed garment. The bone claws grasped a large scythe that stood tall over the dragon’s head.

A reaper had come for you.

Your instincts told you to flee, but it was as if you were frozen at the sight of the creature before you. Your muscles, if you still had them, would not obey. The figure let out a sound, like a sigh, and stepped towards you.

All at once, the form seemed to solidify, as if the dragon was whole and not the ghostly apparition it had been moments before. Close as it was now, you could see the face beneath the hood. Where you expected to find some grizzly disembodied skull grinning at you, instead you found a gentle face with soft chestnut eyes that seemed to hold a sort of timeless empathy.

She held out a hand, now solid like a living dragon’s would be, and spoke in a low, soothing voice.

“I am here for a soul and must have one, one way or another. But the choice is ultimately yours - do you live or die today?”