A Matter of Life and Death

         Somewhere, there is a party. It is a joyous celebration, the type you only get after everyone has made it through a crisis. There’s food and drink and music and dancing.
         And then the music changes and the dance floor is clear but for the two people.
         There is a woman. She is dressed in bright, lively colors. Her sun-kissed skin seems to glow from within. She is an earthy beauty.
         There is a man. He is garbed in a robe, the deepest black. He is bone-white. He looms over her, but like a protector, not an enemy.
         She draws the eye, with her contortions, her twirls, her falls. If there were a spotlight it would be on her. But he is the foundation for her wild dance, she builds upon his movements using him to grow. She is a bright, beautiful vine; he is a dull, steady tree.
         The music is odd. It is dark and somber, verging on the point of sad. But at the same time, it is bursting with energy and quite catchy. It sounds like two songs combined but if heard on their own they would seem incomplete.
         But that is an end. We need a beginning.

         The reaper stalked into the council meeting. The other personifications fell silent. A skeleton with a scythe tended to have that effect.
         YOU SUMMONED ME? The reaper asked, just a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.
         “Er… yes. We have heard you have been meddling in the affairs of humans,” Order said.
         OF COURSE, the reaper replied, shifting his hold on his scythe. I SEPARATE THE SOUL FROM THE BODY. IT IS MY DUTY. He said the word "duty" much the same way others would say "purpose" or "dream".
         “N-… Of course you have been doing your duty. N-none of us will call that into question.” Order was starting to sweat like someone standing on the edge of a cliff while an individual intending to push him off approached. “But several council members have witnessed you involving yourself in the lives of humans.” His eyes flicked to Life as he said this. “Do you deny these claims?”
         The reaper scratched his chin thoughtfully. The ensuing grinding set everyone’s teeth on edge. NO, I SUPPOSE I CANNOT. IT IS… UNFAIR TO THE HUMANS. THOSE OF US WHO CARE FOR THEIR WELFARE ARE UNABLE TO ACT IN THEIR DEFENSE WHILE THOSE WHO WISH THEM HARM ARE FREE TO DO AS THEY WISH.
         Retribution and Punishment sidled up beside the reaper, although cautiously, like low level henchmen trying to capture the main character. “W-well… y-you are… aware of the…” Order swallowed nervously, “… punishment f-for breaking the-the most sacred of our… rules?”
         INDEED. IMPRISONMENT FOR AN INDETERMINATE AMOUNT OF TIME. Retribution and Punishment started to relax; the reaper seemed to be coming quietly. BUT… There was a flash of movement, a thunk of a wooden scythe handle hitting two pairs of knees, and Retribution and Punishment were lying on the ground, cradling their legs. I MUST DO MY DUTY.
         The other personifications started to close in on the reaper, with the air of people who want to make sure everyone else is with them. OF COURSE, the reaper said as he flourished his scythe, I CAN START HERE. The effect was instantaneous. The natural forces recoiled like their lives depended on it.
The reaper grinned his permanent, skeletal grin as he walked out. He shouldn’t enjoy playing his trump card like that. But it was a sad fact of his existence that all feared him, even the fellow anthropomorphic personifications. They had lived thousands of years but they knew not whether or not they would die eventually. As such, they avoided the reaper like… well, like he was death.
         The other personifications sheepishly looked at one another, fully aware that they had made fools of themselves. Only a few refrained, those that hadn’t tried to capture the reaper. Time generally just attended the council meetings for the free food and as such hadn’t tried to capture the reaper. He knew the past, present, and future and so he was placing himself where the interesting things were going to happen.
         The only other one who had not charged the reaper was Life. She tried to hide a smile. This was what Evil had been waiting for.

         The reaper sat in his office, working. Despite what many would say to the contrary, the reaper was not death. That is just the prolonged state of no longer being alive. But he was the personification of death, and that meant he was in charge of it. This meant several things. Firstly, he never killed anyone. He didn’t take life until it was finished. It’s like the difference between a thief breaking into your house and taking your things and a garbage man taking what you had left by the curb. Secondly, he didn’t need to show up for each and every thing that died. He just had to do enough to ensure the process was working properly, a bit like quality control.
         He looked at a globe on his desk. It was an accurate model of the universe, constantly changing to reflect the real thing. It was zoomed in to focus on Earth. The reaper focused it in further. He had felt a subtle wrongness in the world, like a misplaced brushstroke on the portrait of reality. There was a shabby hut, on the other side of the middle of nowhere.
         With a bored sigh, the reaper stood up. He casually strode through the hall of hourglasses. He grinned at the sound of lives being lived. Everyone had the time of their life and this is where it was stored. There was a tinkle of glass as people died and a brief roar of metaphorical fire as new glasses sprung into being. Most found it discerning, almost sacrilegious to see the lives like this, to see them end. The reaper always found it relaxing, the tick-tock of the universe’s clockwork.
         He reached the front door of his home. His skeletal hand snaked out and lazily grabbed his scythe. He had no reason to hurry. Many falsely assume that time holds sway over all things. But even time must come to an end eventually, and then a certain robed skeleton would be waiting for it. Death can happen at any time.
         His scythe in hand, the reaper stepped into the universe, stepping into reality outside the grubby shack. He probably should’ve used his horse, but after that embarrassing incident with the skeletal horse, he didn’t trust any mode of transportation but his own two, skeletal feet. He used said feet to walk through the door, the wood offering him as much resistance as air.
         He knew Evil was not there. One of the reaper’s innate abilities was to know where everyone was. However, Evil had spent a lot of time here, and that made it worth checking out. The room was empty except for a table with a package on it. The cloaked skeleton pulled the lid off it, his head tilted to the side in curiosity.
         The box contained a mass of putty and a note. The reaper had time to read “Catch me if you can!” before he noticed that the putty was ticking. Chemistry was never the reaper’s forte but he knew that a mysterious, ticking sound spelled bad news in big, capital letters.
         The reaper is well known for his ability to go through walls and doors. This is partly due to him already being everywhere but mostly because he is more real than everything else. When you’re as real as death a mere cluster of atoms is about as substantial as a dream (unless he chooses for it to be solid). However, there are some things that can temporarily attain this same level of realness. Explosions are about as real as death while they’re happening.
         OH SH- the reaper managed to get out before the C4 did what C4 does. He was blasted through the wall at such a speed that, even though it was solid, it didn’t slow him down in the slightest. He plowed into a large and incredibly solid rock, bones flying all over the place.
         He lay there for a moment, the echoes of the blast still ringing in his skull. Then he sat up, or at least propped himself up against the bolder. He noticed the figure lounging on top of the huge rock. “How nice of you to drop by,” Evil said, voice dripping with false friendliness. “You looked like you were in such a hurry, I was afraid you’d miss me.” The reaper said nothing, just scowled (or at least he would’ve scowled if he had any facial features) and tried to reach Evil with his scythe. Evil tutted.“Poor, poor, reaper. I’d love to stay and chat but I have a prior engagement to attend to.” The personification disappeared with a faint pop and a mocking chuckle.
         EVIL, YOU DIRTY BASTARD,the reaper growled to himself as he felt around for his other arm. His vertebrae were all over the place and the many bones that made up his feet were all separated. It would take him some time reconstruct everything. He pulled himself together (his ribcage specifically). The reaper didn’t have emotions like anyone alive. Most of us rely on glands and the body’s reactions to determine how we feel. The reaper’s emotions were all mental, not truly felt. But at the moment, he thought angry. Evil was going to find the vengeance of a reaper is nothing to sneeze at.

         Evil was not in the universe at the moment. He was in Life’s domain. The reaper’s home was vast, somber, dark; all the things expected of him, like combining a mansion and a tomb. Life’s home was like a greenhouse on hard drugs. There was so much movement, so much color, so much life. In the center was a vast tree growing, because Life and trees are always tied together for some reason.
         The personification of malevolence was looking at the massive tree with some skepticism. “Are you sure?” he asked. “All that explosion did was tick him off.”
         Life gave him a look the said quite sufficiently that she thought he had the intelligence to match that of garden tools. “Do you really think we would even be here talking if I wasn’t sure? The danger that would pose? It will work,” she said, her tone implying that if he questioned her again he would be hit by one of the aforementioned garden tools.
         Evil shrugged, fully aware of her unspoken threats and insults. Part of being the personification of evil meant that you generally didn’t care about threats given by anyone but yourself. He looked at his watch. “It’s going to take him awhile to pull himself together. I’m a little curious why you decided to help me with this little endeavor. You generally don’t help me.” He paused for a moment and then added with a smile that would’ve made a vampire shudder, “Willingly.”
         She flushed slightly, so slightly that anyone not paying close attention would’ve missed it. But Evil focused on his surroundings, it gave him that much more of an edge. “Why? Because I fear him of course.”
         Evil snorted. “That’s why you’re helping me?” he cackled. “Oh, that’s rich!”
         She gave him another glare. “Shut up! None of the other personifications know what it’s like. Sure, you think he might come for you, but I know that he will come for me. Ever since the first life, he’s been waiting to pounce. Do you know what it’s like to have him over your shoulder for your entire existence? To feel him extinguish lives all around you and know that he’s just waiting until it’s your turn?” She sighed. “A reaper is defiantly the right shape for him. He waits until we’re ripe and then harvests us without compassion.”
         Evil chose not to comment. He was among the few that had no fear for the reaper. He knew the reaper. He didn’t take life until it was done. Despite how frequently Evil used death as a tool, the reaper was always trying to stop him.
         Evil didn’t bring this up with Life. She may not have been very good, but she wasn’t evil either, he could tell her skin crawled when she was around him. But the reaper’s morality probably wouldn’t have changed her mind anyways. Life was afraid of death. It’s just what she was.
         There was a faint hiss behind him and the sound of sharpness. Evil turned around casually. “Oh, hello again, reaper.” He grinned an insincere grin. “Small world, eh?”
         EVIL, the reaper intoned, advancing on Evil, who was calmly backing up against the tree. YOU HAVE MADE ME VERY ANGRY.
         “Oh, come on. What’s a little explosion between friends?” Evil’s back was pressing against the bark now.
         The reaper was not amused. YOU ARE BECOMING TOO COMPLACENT WITH ME. The reaper seemed to grow. He swung his scythe, the blade a shining blur. Evil’s smile widened and he ducked…
         There was a thunk.
         The scythe had embedded itself in the tree while Evil had danced away. The reaper scowled and tugged on his weapon. The blade remained in the wood. If the reaper had a forehead it would’ve furrowed in confusion. He placed a foot on the bark and pulled again.
         It was at this point that he noticed the scythe was being drawn into the tree, as was his foot. He tried to pull his limb out and found it embarrassingly stuck. Much to the misfortune of the grimmest of reapers, he was being drawn into the tree of Life, which was just as real as he was.
         He struggled against it but he might as well have been an ant trying to fight against a vacuum cleaner. The tree claimed more and more of his person until only his head and one arm protruded from the tree, like a tumor from hell.
         With a growl the reaper struggled to break free of the wooden grasp of the tree. When this resulted in his arm flailing about desperately, he gave up and drummed his fingers on the bark.
         “Oh, reaper. You’re so predictable,” Evil mocked. “You’re almost as easy to manipulate as a human.”
WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO GAIN BY CAPTURING ME? The reaper snarled. YOU VERY WELL KNOW THAT THERE ARE NONE WHO WOULD LIKE ME TO BE FREED.
         “True, true. How do I put this? I’m trying to get you fired.”
         The reaper paused until point A connected to point B. When they did, he immediately knew what Evil was trying to do. YOU THINK YOU CAN CONTROL IT?
         “It’ll be a nice blank slate for me to write on,” Evil said, with a grin to rival the reaper’s.
IF YOU THINK YOU CAN CONTROL IT, YOU KNOW FAR LESS ABOUT HUMAN NATURE THAN YOU THINK. He waved his arm to indicate Life, who was trying her hardest to be inconspicuous. JUST LOOK AT HOW FEARFUL SHE IS, EVEN THOUGH I AM COMPLETELY INCAPACITATED. SHE COWERS IN MY VERY PRESENCE. THE HUMANS WILL CREATE A BEING DESERVING OF THAT FEAR.
         Evil chuckled. “You have been around far too long, reaper. You’re age is clouding things. You’re a dinosaur. No, you’re a fossil, a relic. It’s time for a change.” The reaper hung his head as Evil strode off.

         For a time, everything still worked fine. People still died as they were supposed to. But with each death the whole setup steered closer to breaking. Without the reaper to make sure everything was functioning right, everything started to crumble.
         Soldiers were the first to notice that nobody was dying. When the battle was over all those that had been felled just lay there groaning.
         Medical officials were the next to notice. Wounds and diseases that should have been fatal, weren’t. They just prolong the suffering.
         The council of personifications noticed. They summoned the reaper, but to no avail.
         The media noticed next. And then everyone knew.
         In fact, the last to know that the universe was not as it should be was the universe. It moved on cosmic scales, so it took much longer to realize things. It assumed that the individual in charge was AWOL. It then searched for a replacement.
         The collective human consciousness submitted a suitable applicant.

         Few visited the reaper’s domain, so there were few precautions against intruders. Life felt the whole place was unsettling, it seemed like a tamed predator. It allowed them near for now but it was always ready to strike.
         They were in the room with the hourglasses. Evil had said that this is where the new reaper would appear. The hissing of time made her queasy, but not as much as the cessation of it.
         There was a pool a darkness gathering in front of Evil. He watched it eagerly, almost hungrily.
         “Evil,” she said, tapping him to ensure she had his attention. He turned, irritated at her distracting him. “Are you sure this is wise? What the reaper said… what if he’s right?”
         Evil frowned. She was watering the tiny seed of doubt the reaper had planted in his mind. “How much worse can he be?” Life didn’t reply.
         The darkness grew, almost like a figure was standing up. It concentrated and flicked through several forms before deciding on one. It was tall, taller even than the reaper had been. It had taken the same basic idea of a skeleton, but added to it. There were still bits of muscle and skin clinging to the bones as though it were a fresher corpse. It lacked the black robe of the old reaper, clad in a dark, raggedy uniform. A halo of hair clung to the skull. Deep in the pits of its eye sockets, red lights glowed with malevolence and hatred.
         Also unlike the old reaper, this apparition breathed. It was not the type of sound you wanted to hear twice, or even once. It was the type of sound you wouldn’t even hear in your worst nightmares, because the nightmares would be to terrified to include it. It contained the ragged wheeze of sick men, the dying screams of warriors, and over it all, the steady breath of a predator.
         Evil strode casually to it and clapped it on the back, in a friendly manner. “Welcome to the universe, reaper.” He proffered his hand.
         It took his hand and he gave a yelp of surprise. He could feel the limb dying, withering, mummifying. And it spoke, every word requiring its own inhale, each vowel extended too far. “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII   AAAAAAAM   NOOOO   LOOOOOOOOOOWLYYYYY   REEEEEAAAAPEEEER.”
         Evil extracted his hand hurriedly and he made the mistake of looking into its eyes. They were endless tunnels of darkness, and at the innermost pit tiny, red stars glowed. Evil felt the tingle of fear. He was staring into the eyes of a creature more malevolent than he, something that wanted to end everything.
         He spun around to flee, barely noticing that Life had already done so. He exited the reaper’s home and reappeared in the council’s room. They wouldn’t be happy about his presence, but they were the only ones who could help him fight Death.
         The new Death stalked out of the reaper’s home. There were fields of crops, real crops that the reaper grew. Death waved its arms and the fields withered and died.

         Life appeared in her home and ran as fast as she could to the tree in the center of her domain. The bark had completely close over the reaper. She willed the tree to split and it reluctantly released the reaper and his scythe.
         “Reaper, you have to hurry. The new Death is here and-” she started helping him up before silenced her with a glare.
         YES, I KNOW. IT IS TERRIBLE. And then he slapped her across the face. It was restrained, as bones hurt much more than a regular hand. It still stung though. YOU HAVE BEEN MOST FOOLISH. I WARNED BOTH OF YOU AND YET YOU CONTINUED ON YOUR CAMPAIGN OF IDIOCY.
         She flushed, knowing full well that he was right. Pride made her speak up. “If you hadn’t hunted me from day one-”
         I HAVE NOT HUNTED YOU IN ALL OF HISTORY! The reaper exclaimed, his patience gone. IN ALL OF TIME, I HAVE NOT ONCE, HUNTED YOU. I DO NOT HAVE IT IN ME. I AM A REAPER, NOT A HUNTER. He ended with a sigh.
         She stared into his eyes, and found eternal blackness. The dark no light could penetrate. And it was saturated with sheer, unadulterated loneliness. For the first time she felt sorry for the reaper. In all of existence, he was the one creature always shunned. If the universe was a party, he wasn’t even in the kitchen.
“Reaper…”
         He shook himself. THERE IS NO TIME. WE MUST STOP DEATH. He picked up his scythe and the two of them vanished.

         The personifications were in chaos. Even Confusion was confused. Order’s shouting finally ousted everyone else’s. “Everyone, please! Calm down! This is a good thing. There’s someone to make sure people are dying again.”
         “You don’t understand!” Evil exclaimed. “It’s-” The lights in the room began to dim and flicker. “Oh, hell.”
         All noise in the room stopped as there was a clicking, like bone on stone. Then that horrible breathing was heard. Every head turned to the entrance of the room which was shrouded in darkness. Then the figure of Death pushed through, some fibers of darkness clinging to it.
         It homed in on Evil. “YYYYUUUUUOOO   WIIIILL   BEEEEEE   MYYYY   FIIIIIRST   TROOOOOOOPHYYYY.”
         Evil yelped in panic and started knocking over chairs in an effort to get away. Death charged at him, ignoring the scattered tables and chairs. It grabbed him and held him up by his collar. Evil felt the cold barrel of a gun pressing against his chin.
“PREEEEEEPAAAAAAAREEEE   TOOOOOO   DIIIIIIEEEEEE,” Death breathed, savoring his terror. His skeletal finger started to tighten around the trigger…
         Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkk!
         Death turned (as did everyone else) to see the reaper sitting on a chair, slowly running a sharpening stone down the blade of his scythe.
         Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkk!
         Death dropped Evil, who let out a relived sound he would never admit to. “SSSSSSOOOOOOOOOO   LIIIIIIITTLEEEE  REEEEEEEAAAAAAAPEEEEEER,  YYYYYYYYYYOOOOOOOUUUUUU  WIIIIIIISSSHHH   TOOOOOO   CHAAAAAALLAAAAANGEEEEE   MEEEEEE?”
         Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkk!
         The reaper said nothing. “YYYYYYYOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU   THIIIIIIIIIINK   YYYYYYYOOOOUUUUUUUU   CAAAAAAAAAAAN   DEEEEEEEEFEEEEEEAAAAAAT   MEEEEEEEEE?”
         Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhkk!
         The reaper angled the blade, examining the way the light glinted off it. Then he abruptly stood up, so quick even Death jumped. There were two hourglasses on the table beside him. They were so solid, so real that they looked like they had always been there. They just hadn’t always been there a moment ago.
         They were both identical, black and imposing, except for one thing. One was empty and the other was rapidly running out of sand. They both had the name Death written on them.
         ONE OF US WILL SOON DIE, the reaper intoned, his voice level.
         Death laughed, which made his breathing sound like the most pleasant and soothing lullaby. “LEEEEEEEET   UUUUUUUSSSSSSS   BEEEEEEEEGIIIIIIN.” Quick as a flash, it aimed its weapon and fired.
         Despite the fact that it was an unwieldy, eight-foot blade on a stick, the reaper swung it quickly and accurately enough to slice through the bullets. One slid past the edge of the blade and embedded itself in his arm with a sickening crunch. Ordinary bullets would’ve gone right through him, but these were Death’s bullets, just as real as the reaper. He was unaccustomed to pain, having no nerve endings to feel it with, but this damaged the fiber of his being, it was soul pain.
         With a snarl the reaper doubled his focus on blocking the bullets. But that first one seemed to have left the door open for the rest of them. For every two he blocked one slipped past his guard. He didn’t hold any hope that Death would run out of bullets, he surely had more than enough for every life in the universe. But the reaper still advanced. When Death was almost within the reach of his scythe he could continue no longer and he fell.
         It laughed again as it kicked away his weapon. “IIIIIIIIIIIIT   SEEEEEEEEEEEMSSSSSS   THEEEEEEE   HUUUUUUUUUUUUUNTEEEEEEER   HAAAASSSSSSSSS   DEEEEEFEEEEEEAAATEEEED   THEEEEEEEEE   REEEEEAAAAAPEEEEEER,” it chuckled as it grabbed him by his skeletal throat.“AAAAAAAAAAANYYYYYYYY   LAAAAAAAAASSSSST   WOOOOOORDSSSSS?”
         The reaper looked at it critically for a moment before intoning, YOUR HAIR IS STUPID.
         Death growled (another sound beyond unpleasant) and placed the barrel between the reaper’s eyes. “DOOOOO   NOOOOOOOOOT   WOOOOOORRYYYY,   WEEEEEEEEEEEE   BOOOOOOOOOOOTH   KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW   IIIIIIIIIIIIIIT   DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEESN’T   HUUUUUUUUUUURT…  MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH.”
         Then a whole lot happened in a very short amount of time. Life tackled Death, making it momentarily forget about the reaper. Anyone who looked at Life would’ve never expected her to overpower the looming skeleton. But life is all about fighting and surviving, tooth and nail. There was a crack like thunder as the opposite energies grappled, both trying to get a hold of Death’s firearm. They both succeeded at the exact same time. The weapon of Death crumbled into dust in her grip but not before it had managed to fire. She slumped and it threw her body off of it with a hiss. She fell on a table and lay there.
         It looked around for the scythe and found it already in the reaper’s bony fist. The reaper was standing up, rising and unfolding like the wrath of an empire. YOU DEFILE MY HOME! The anger in the reaper’s voice caused a spiderweb of cracks to appear on the walls, floor, and ceiling. YOU DISOBEY THE RULES OF THE DUTY! The room seemed to fade, filling with blackness. Only the reaper seemed to remain real, everything else was a shadow. YOU TRY TO RUIN MY HARVEST! The reaper seemed to grow, he filled the universe. AND NOW THE SOLDIER WILL PAY FOR THE REAPER’S CROPS. The scythe glinted in the darkness and there was a horrible wail.
         And then the room was back. The reaper approached Life’s unmoving body. There was an hourglass in his had all of a sudden. The top bulb was empty.
         The reaper spun around to the other personifications who were all pretty stunned. He advanced upon Time. Give me some time. I cannot give her more, but you can.
         Time backed up nervously. “Hey, now that’s against the rules! The universe won’t like that at all.”
TRUE, the reaper grinned. BUT THEN AGAIN, I WON’T LIKE IT IF YOU DON’T. AND I’M HERE.
         Time took a quick peek into his future. It was very short. He sighed and produced a handful of what looked like sand but was actually the time of life. The reaper pored the time into Life’s hourglass. She started breathing again.
         He sighed in relief. THANK YOU. NOW I MUST BE OFF. I HAVE MUCH WORK TO DO. BUSY, BUSY.And he was gone.

         Some time afterwards, the reaper received the summons. He had feverishly worked to fix the process of dying. It had been time consuming, and he would have to turn up at several extra deaths but everything was on the fix.
         He sighed, which was both an impressive feat and impressive sounding for someone with no lungs. He lacked the motivation to fetch his scythe so it just appeared in his hands. He looked out his window. He had replanted the fields but it would take some time before they returned to their golden splendor.
         He jumped across the dimensions to the council’s. He stalked down the hallway because when you are the grim reaper, you don’t have much choice. He expected an attempt at punishment. But the reaper was nothing if not punctual. Oh, yes. He was punctual.
         He stepped into the room and a multitude of voices yelled “Surprise!” He followed their instruction, looking around in confusion. The room was adorned with streamers and other festive decorations. There was a dance floor and musicians and a buffet and a bar.WHAT IS-?
         Order walked up to him, a paper party hat slightly askew on his head. He heartily shook the reaper’s hand, making quite the effort not to shudder. “Glad you could make it, reaper!”
         Deciding to take the offensive, the reaper tried again. WHAT IS GOING ON?
         “It’s a party! For you! After you stopped that false death, we thought we should show you our appreciation.”
         The reaper seemed taken aback but he recovered quickly. I AM HUMBLED.
         And so the party went. The reaper’s reserves of small talk were never very large but all the other personifications were making an effort. As more and more drinks were consumed it became easier to uphold his side of the conversation.
         Finally, he found himself talking with Life. “I wanted to thank you,” she said, slightly awkwardly. She eyed the drink in her hand, still not fully looking at him. “How ironic that my life would be saved by Death.”
He let it slide that she had referred to him as Death rather than reaper. He felt it was an important distinction to make. Death could just be mindless oblivion. A REAPER MUST CARE FORE HIS HARVEST, he shrugged.
The dance floor cleared. Life looked at the reaper sideways. “You dance much?” she asked him, extending her hand.
         NOT OFTEN WITH SOMEONE ELSE, he intoned taking her extended limb.

         There is a dance. A man and a woman, twisting and turning around each other. They are as different as day and night, fire and water, Life and Death.
         He seems so strong, and she so fragile. And yet, his hands are steady and delicate, like someone trying to capture a butterfly.
         The music carries on. It is conflicting, but whole. It makes you smile as tears run down your face. It makes you laugh between the sobs.
         And they spin around each other. They may grow distant, spread apart, but they are always connected.
         One’s eye is drawn to her magnificent acrobatics. She twists, leaps, bounds, spins, ducks, and tumbles. But no matter how close she comes to falling, his hands are always there, waiting to catch her. If he were too eager or too reluctant, she would fall and the dance would be short. If she did not trust him, she would never go through so many wild movements and the dance would be boring.
         Without both dancers, the whole thing is ruined.