"Quincy stays at Death's home. It's not a bad place, but unexpected for death. Dark colors yes, and a black robe hung up. As did plainclothes, battle armor, and other outfits. She was wearing business casual today. Apparently the gods had to...strike down an office building. Killing dozens." Quincy rolls his eyes.
"You're a terrible Narrator," he whispers.
"And in that moment, Death walked back through the door," I say, through gritted teeth. Quincy glances at me, panicked. I just smile.
She kicks off her heels and makes for the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of wine.
"Death offers Quincy some wine," I say. Quincy glances angrily at me. "And Quincy accepts, and spills some wine on his white shirt." Quincy takes some and clumsily spills wine on himself. Death doesn't really seem to notice or care.
"So what did you mean earlier, 'You might be of use to me yet'?" asks Quincy.
"Death gives Quincy the Death Glare, meaning she could easily reap his soul for saying something," I say. Quincy just drinks more of his wine.
"It means," says Death, "That you're my ticket back. I was cast down from the the heavens for being myself. I'm just a reaper. The reaper. They fear me.
"Ever since the world came into being, I was there. I had to be. Where there is life, there must also be Death. For millennia we were in harmony. Gods don't die, so I wasn't needed. Then fucking Yarmie had to create you humans. And as to not give them even an ounce of godlike power, he made them have a horribly short lifespan. Only eighty years. And here I was, about four thousand years old.
"And finally I was needed. And they feared me. They saw what I could do. When I slashed my scythe across the first human, they saw the tiniest part of the gods in the humans disintegrate and become nothing. That is how humans are alive: they possess some of the gods' power. Only life, understand. The bare minimum.
"Anyway...I reaped the first human and they saw the godliness leave. They saw that part die and the soul descend upward, towards their palace. They went mad. They saw the tiny part of godliness die and then they feared me. They feared I would reap them, too, and make their godliness disappear. While it's true, I wouldn't do that. Couldn't, probably. They were my friends, my family...my lover...all feared me. Vitar not so much...but that was because he was Life and could create more of what I destructed.
"So they cast me down, to live by myself among the humans. Sad thing is, they feared me, too. Their lifespans are so short, they fear me. Death. They don't want to die. They're afraid. Just. Like. The. Gods!!!!!" Death yelled. Even I jump back. I had been in a monotone about everything, the words just spilling out. Quincy actually pees himself. I blink and Death is gone. Her wine glass crashes to the floor. Quincy's shaking very hard and tries to cover up the large stain on his tan pants.
"Death goes to let off some steam while Quincy cleans up," I say. Quincy gives a big sigh of relief. "Some while later, Death comes back, adamantly ignoring Quincy. He doesn't mind and just curls up on a blanket in the corner of the room and falls asleep." Quincy looks at me sadly as he walks to the corner and curls up on the meager blanket. I feel bad as I hear him snore. "And Death," I whisper. "Death takes pity on him and place a few more blankets on Quincy. She didn't want him to freeze...to Death." I snort.
I just watch her at this point, not narrating. She walks around her small home, picking up knick knacks here and there. She finally stops at a lifelike painting of a man with fine blonde hair and tan skin. His irises are many colors at once, and all vibrant. Blue, green, yellow, purple. He had his arms around a smiling Death, who looked overwhelmed but very happy.
She lightly touches the edge of the painting, then the man's face. When she speaks, her voice is wavery. "I miss you...Vitar...Life..."