Death and all his Friends

Complex and varied are the myriad tales of the creature we call Death. Discover forthwith a collection of such tales - short stories and poems concerning both death and Death.


6. The Last Hero

Blood hits the soft earth. A human figure lurches from the mist, one arm hanging limply by his side. His laughter echoes through the vale, but falls only on the ears of the birds and trees. His other hand grasps a rusting longsword, which he uses as a walking stick. Squirrels watch, curious, as he swings the blade wildly, beheads an imagined enemy. The sword hits a rock, shatters; leaves the wretch of a man holding only a stump. Unsupported, he falls into the dirt. Squirming in the filth, his matted hair covers his eyes, blinds him to his own hallucinations. The gaping wound in his stomach cries scarlet tears, soaking him through. Face caked in blood, sweat, tears, mud, the dying man lies in the dirt. Oblivious to the tragedy, birds sing. Somewhere to the east, a pale sun rises. And the last hero takes his final, wheezing, gasping breath.

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