When Death Comes Knocking, Don't Answer

“Whoa! Where’d you come from?”

”...From your wildest nightmares, your most fervent, vivid fears,” the spectral figure growled.

“Um. Okay. So, what are you?”

”...I? I am Death.”

“Death, eh? So…does that mean I’m dead?”

“You do have a sword sticking out of your abdomen in a rather unsightly manner. I’d say, yes.”

“Ah. I don’t feel dead.”

“Death has no feeling, only the swift nothingness of the dark.”

“Mm-hmm…say, how ‘bout you leave and let me live?”

“Why, that’s preposterous! It goes completely against my job application!”

“Job application?”

“Oh, sure, all Deaths have them. You just fill out your name and address, the previous Death will kill you, and you’ll take the spot. Want a form?”

“Oh, erm, no thanks. Say, you say there are multiple Deaths?”

“Oh, sure, one for each type. I, for instance, am the Death of Accidental Impalement. I get a ring an—hey!”

The man had jumped out the window.

“Oh, now I suppose I’ll have to get Suicide on that…”

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