No one waits for you longer than I do

NO ONE WAITS FOR YOU LONGER THAN I DO

(This is NOT a love/romantic stuff.)

17TH CENTURY B.C.



“Hey, Dark.”

It is a fine and fresh morning. Well, it is always fine and fresh morning here. No night. No rain. No gloom. You don’t particularly need to do something to live. The inhabitants here do not really feel bored even when nothing seems to change. After all, this is the only place untouched by Father Time himself. Yes, this place is eternal. People here are immortals.

This is the Paradise. The real one. I was born here. I live here. Still I am different.

I am a black-winged angel.

I was resting on a bough of a tree. Both hands locked behind my head. I was dreaming of a perfectly good day ahead. But hearing that voice, I stopped dreaming. Just the thought of starting the day (it is a new day whenever I wake up since there are no nights here) with one of her tear-jerking stories about humans’ life is simply discouraging. She keeps pestering me that humans are this and that. And when I disagree, she will prove her point by retelling stories she observed. Perhaps she had already narrated a million. Ask me one. I can give you none.

“What do you think of the Minoans?” she asked sadly.

I sat upright and yawned.

“Umm. The people of Crete? Well,” I paused and grinned. “Fortunate folks to last that long. Those people have such ridiculous sense that they conquered Nature. They’ve got that sense that they can control it. The Chief allowed them time enduring achievements. And well, they reached their peak but they do not seem to know how to scale it. If it is me, the last page of their history had been written. And judging by your face, think I’m right.”

I felt a shudder inside my breast pocket. A gentle pulsing.

“The Chief has decided,” she answered sullenly.

I checked it and read a page.

“Is it some kind of epidemic? A political warfare?” she asked.

“No,” I closed the Book with a crisp thud. “You heard what happened in Indonesia? The year without a summer? This is going to be the next.”

I stood up and flapped my wings once. She kept silent. Her face was white.

“Well then. I’ll pay a visit to a friend in Santorini,” I looked up and basked in the warm light. “Crops will refuse to grow. Light will never touch lands. Clouds will pour poison. And ashes will bury the cities. A volcanic eruption.”

I started wearing my black gloves.

“Dark, is there no—”

“You seem to be forgetting one thing, Serenity,” I glanced at her and smirked.

I flapped my wings once again and soared high and down to the world below.

“You would never bargain with the god of death,” she muttered to herself. “Is it?”



DECEMBER 2011. PRESENT DAY

This was the first night since her grandmother passed away. Adjacent to her room, she imagined hearing her grandmother’s occasional mutterings and gentle snoring. She was not afraid. Her grandmother was her only family. Both of her parents died from a car accident. Family relatives offered her to live with them. She refused. ‘Who will pluck the weeds in the garden?’ she reasoned. ‘Or water the plants?’ ‘And trim the bushes?’ ‘Who will feed the dogs?’ The house means a lot to her. Before her parents’ accident, there were four of them living in its rickety ceiling and old rotten walls. She was not willing to give it up even if it means living alone.

She dressed herself in a nightgown and trotted to her bed …

… when she accidentally stepped on something: a hard-bound black book.

She stooped down, picked it up and opened its last page. The curious girl propped herself on her bed and read. In less than a minute, she was already hurrying to her neighbor, Mrs. Pepperwork, at the middle of the night, barefooted and in her nightgown. Her face was ashen with pallor. Cold beads of sweat streamed down on her forehead.

And in her arm was the hard-bound black book.



4200 B.C.

“You sure have the luxury of time fishing here.”

I snickered. Anyone with sense would not fail to notice the mocking intent. Serenity raised an indignant eyebrow.

“So you have sense after all,” I grinned my irritating grin and threw her my catch. “We never ran out of time here.”

The fish twisted, flipped, somersaulted, spun and frolicked in her arms. She panicked and squealed, frightening the little marine animal. It jumped and ended up slapping her cheek by its tail.

Imagine my amusement. I laughed heartily. She looked at me grudgingly.

Well, that was forbidden here. I am telling it now so by the time we met and you luckily ended up here, I would not have to repeat it.

“Come on, Serenity,” I teased. “Don’t blame the river for the fish.”

“Like I am!”

“Rivers are life. If they fail, that’s it for those people.”

I flipped open my Book. It was real slim for a record dating back since time immemorial.

“Thanks for amusing me today. That was fun. I shall go now,” I dusted my sleeves.

“Wait! This time. Was it the Egyptians?”

“Oh? That was quite sharp,” I placed a hand in the waters and felt its coolness. “The Old Kingdom had been a remarkable civilization so much so that the Chief promised that they will never be forgotten. They will be studied and admired through ages. But you see, all flashes just have to die down. Shining too bright blinds humans. Success is one thing. But humility is two.”

“They are creative and intelligent.”

“Brutal and savage, too,” I added. “There are times when I want to admire them. Humans, in general.”

“Yeah and you never tried.”

“I tried. But they’re making it real hard for me. The famine had started to drive them mad. People with nothing to eat,” I stared at her. “What do you think they have done to their children?”

She paled but said nothing. I nodded.

“That’s right,” I whisked my arm and there appeared out of thin air a gleaming silver scythe. I ran my fingers across its blade and studied my reflection on it. “Everything touched by Father Time had an expiration date tagged on them. Unfortunately for the Egyptians, that date is today.” I put the Book inside my coat. “It’s their Apocalypse.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“A nice offer of vacation leave for the Nile.”

DECEMBER 2011. PRESENT DAY

The night was cold. Frost had covered the streets. Fine grains of snow continued to pour down.

“Ah,” I sighed. “Winter above sure is going all out.” It might interest you that there is a place in Paradise where the Four Seasons sat around the campfire. The last time I visited them they were roasting marshmallows and singing campfire songs. Serenity said they were also sharing stories that happened during their own time. Winter seemed to have the darkest and creepiest stories. No prize guessing why. He has the longest nights.

I was sitting on one of the gable roofs without my coat on but only a white pullover. Winter can never freeze me so I felt ignorant of the heap of snow on my head and shoulders. The roofs of the houses seemed to float on the vast blanket of night. Their edges were laced with glowing lights. Ah, yes. Christmas. Looks like I will have those chamber missions again this year if the dice rolled against me as it always does. As I was wondering who might take the shift with me for being one of the Santa Clauses, I snatched a glimpse of a barefooted girl dashing through the snow with only her nightgown on. I should have let my eyes linger on her longer if not only some distraction entered the scene and pounded a fist on my head. The snow fell off.

“You would do fine as a pine if you align yourself along those pine trees, stand still and let the snow do the work.”

I brushed my shoulders, forced a laugh then drew out my best serious face.

“Happy?” I asked.

She stepped on my right foot so hard that I almost—almost—screamed. I turned sharply at her, fuming but she already had her back against me and was whistling as if nothing happened. She fumbled for her waistcoat pocket and checked time in this particular place.

“How long are you still going to wait?” she asked.

“As long as it takes you to leave me,” I answered.

“Well, that’s eternity.”

For ten minutes we were waiting. Waiting for a fire to break out in this winter. After another three minutes, I already stood up, wondering. Something feels off. The Book had never been wrong. I should already be claiming some souls right now. Such delay has never happened before. I was about to jump to the main street and investigate the matter when from the corner of my eye I saw the girl stuck a foot and tripped me. I was disconcerted by the glitch on my job that my reaction time was slow, so the inevitable happened. I tumbled head over heels, lost my bearing, raked through the thick snow on the roof until I was able to grip a marble gargoyle. I was hanging on the stylish owl ornament when the people inside switched on their lights. I have no business for people whose names have not yet appeared in my Book. I need cover. I swung myself back and forth and swiftly hauled myself back on the roof. I was fortunate to make it a second before a beam of flashlight swept across from where I had been. I found her chuckling and giggling by herself.

“If you only saw what you—”

She almost choked herself laughing. I heard a door knob being turned.

“looked like.”

I made a quick scan of their backyard. And I don’t need night vision goggles to do that. I glanced back and saw some figures shuffling blindly in darkness. When Serenity heard one of them spoke, it was only then that the horror of what she had done haunted her. She fixed me with a questioning look.

“Exactly,” I mouthed, dived on the freezing air as fast as a peregrine falcon, caught her by the arm and slipped in their backyard. We hid behind their large artesian well. Flying was the worst thing to do. You do not know how inventive humans can be with their sightings under the night sky.

“The Chief forbids,” I muttered. “Remind me to call you a dunderhead later.”



We were now standing in front of the gate of my subject. I paused for a few seconds and studied the old Victorian house. It must have been a family estate inherited through ages. Traces of its past glory were lost among the cracks branching across its walls. Thin plume of smoke was steadily rising up from its chamber. It was a poorly maintained house, if not at all.

“Go back, Serenity,” I ordered in a voice cold as a grave.

I looked at the residence plate mounted near the gate. My eyes narrowed grimly. It reads: Pepperwork.

Something went wrong. And it is not good. The Chief’s time is absolute.

I produced a black cap from my empty hand and wore it to cover my eyes. If you are still alive, you would not want to lock eyes with the death god. It’s either you will see your most blissful dream or your most horrible nightmare. I rang the doorbell.

A middle age woman of hazel brown eyes and black hair streaked with silver tied in a loose bun welcomed us with a hesitant and weary look on her face. Well, you would not really entertain a total stranger at the middle of night, now would you? But she seemed too weary for someone who has just risen from bed. She also had dark bags under her eyes like she was out all night.

“Hello, madam,” I greeted cheerily in sharp contrast of what I really feel. “Please forgive the inconvenience I had greatly caused you and your household. But the city government was keen to inform all of its residents about smuggled goods of defective quality. Currently, we are on our best efforts to— ”

“Like?” she asked anxiously.

“Kettles, for instance.”

“Oh, good heavens!” she exclaimed. “We should have been it first victims if not for little Julie banging on this very gate and informing us of the disaster! Good thing only half of the kitchen was consumed by fire.”

And good thing you are alive. If you’re dead, you would not need a palace much less a kitchen. Humans, really. It is only when they met me that they realized how they want to live. And it is always too late.

Wait. That girl Julie. She sounded so recent.

“Julie, huh? Is she somehow related with Julianna Hartwell?”

If she is, I will have some readings.

Mrs. Pepperwork answered.

Alright. I have to check the Book.



800 A.D.

“The world is such a brilliant thing,” I said as I flipped through the pages of the Book, half-browsing, half-reading. “If you mess up the weather, you can wipe off an entire civilization.”

“Yup!” nodded Spring gleefully. “That’s why it always helps them if we come on time. See here, Dark.” He giggled excitedly and fumbled for a rolled piece of dried bark from inside their tent. There were no nights here but the four of them were given the freedom to set a chilly moonlit night on this particular patch of paradise for their campfire songs and stories. He thrust the scroll on my face and pulled down the strap. It slid neatly.

“We even have the Mayan calendar! They were at the equator region so they are tropical. Sad thing not all of us can show up there. But we will be doing our rounds right so their rainforest would thrive well.”

I patted the boy on the head. Spring was always hopeful, always beaming with life and vigor.

Yeah. Those folks are willing to cut up their daughters’ heads just to induce you to do that, I thought.

But loudly I said, “Yeah. Those folks are willing to give up a skullful of sacrifices just to induce you to do that.”

I seriously think the euphemism was effective because Spring does not seem to understand. I eyed the most recent page of my Book. It had been written. And it should be done.

“That calendar looks pretty great. Unfortunately, it cannot continue.”

“So that’s the reason why you came here,” whispered Winter. “Do you need me? I cannot go near the equator.”

“Ah, well. I need you to be quite harsher in Iceland. Drop it off lower than the average.”

He was surprised.

“But that would tip the balance of the global climate. If the European countries would be experiencing extreme freezing temperature, then Central America would—”

He trailed off and paled.

“Would you mind lending a hand, Summer?”

“Oh sure. Some people love their skins burnt.”

“But they would not love their waters dried,” I closed the book. “It’s drought for the Mayans.”



DECEMBER 2011. PRESENT DAY

“I sent Winter at the North and brought Summer at the equator. Rain shall avoid touching their rainforest and they will thirst. Murders will be executed. Priest-kings shall be blamed for the wrath of the gods. A terrible fate shall befall upon them and their families. They will perish. It will be the most horrible drought for the next ten thousand years. This is the collapse of the Mayans. Their end had been written. And it shall be done.”

Julie had read the last paragraph without a pause. She had never heard of the Mayans or the Minoans. She seemed to recall a little about Egyptians. All she knew was that they were old people who once inhabited the earth and were lost. She checked the most recent page. A lot of new other names had been added. If she can only locate these people who are about to die in a few seconds. If she can only warn them before it is too late. Many would not mourn and grieve like she did. Families will be torn apart, tattered with holes for members lost. She flipped five pages back and stared again on that single entry. She blinked back a tear and wiped her eyes. Her grandmother’s name was on it: Julianna Hartwell.

She hated the book. It claimed her grandmother’s life.

“Yes, that’s right. Hate the Book, child,” three voices seemed to have whispered to her in chorus.

This Book keeps taking away people’s life. Their dreams. Their hopes.

“Yes. Yes. It is a cruel Book. It took away your precious grandmother. But you have already tampered with its will,” the triple voice grew colder and more nasal. “You have saved your neighbor from the god of death.”

Yes. I did save Mrs. Pepperwork and her family. But I did nothing for grandmother.

“She can return back to life, little girl,” the voice taunted. “I can return her back to you.”

But how?

“She needs your help.”

Julies woke up with a start. She scanned the room.

“I am here, my dear,” the voice said. It was hypnotizing.



A loud banging on the door. Julie stirred from her stupor.

“Come on, Dark! Rule number 1 for a death god. Thou shalt not destroy private proper—AH!”

There was the sound of metal being ripped apart. A loud crash. Stone blocks collapsed.

“Silence!”

“W-What’s that?” Julie trembled. She broke from her trance.

“It’s the death god, dear. He wants to punish you for saving his prey. He will stop you for saving your grandmother.”

“N-No. I only—”

“Fear not, little girl. Take haste. We will trick him. Step inside the circle with the Book.”

She hesitated and turned to the direction of rushing footsteps.

“My little Julie,” the voice grew fragile and coarse. It was so old yet so gentle. “Come.”

Tears suddenly burst from her eyes. She looked back and saw a crouching figure at the center of the dark circle with its weird runes and symbols. Her arms were wide, beckoning her. She ran towards her without a thought.

It was her grandmother.

“NO! KEEP AWAY FROM IT!” a poignant voice shouted from her back.

A silver glint whizzed past her ear. Its gleaming blade struck the wall.

And nailed her grandmother at the chest.

She stood there for a while, wide-eyed, tears cascading down her cheeks. She fell on her knees.

“NOOO!” she wailed.

And there standing a few yards away from her, still poised at his throwing stance was a tall handsome young man. Two fingers were twitching restlessly as if controlling something from a distance. His glare was such that can even freeze the dead. Cold sapphire irises. Untouched by any emotion. He looked perfectly human though. The unruly blonde spikes of his hair. The silver earring on his left ear. The simple white pullover he was wearing.

“And why no,” he finally said, his voice as cold as his eyes.

Yes. He looked perfectly human. And it would only take one icy gaze that will send spines to chill to tell the difference.



IT WASN’T HERE. I lost it. The Book which lists the dead.

I fumbled inside both of my pockets. There was nothing. So this explains it.

Someone tampered with the book.

“Dark, if you’re pulling a prank, it is not funny.”

“And to whom do you think am I pulling it at?”

We sought refuge from dawn travelers in a remote alleyway beside a wasteland fenced by chicken wire. Alright, I need to think. I messaged my temples with a thumb and index finger then closed my eyes.

It should have been a perfect thinking stance if not only …

“Oh heavens! The Chief forbids,” started Serenity. “May I remember to call you a reckless reaper! You got yourself a real dire situation! Come now, Dark. For this kind goddess …”

I have been frowning. But I frowned more on that point.

“… is all too willing to give you a hand for the matter. So if you would humbly tell me the plan—ah?”

She caught me glaring at her. I zipped an imaginary zipper across my mouth and raised a questioning eyebrow, asking for objections. It was then that I noticed she was staring past my shoulder. I followed her line of gaze and saw a young little lad running across the snowy road, barefooted with only a thin shawl around him. He dashed passed us and vanished.

“Sure a lot of kids were dashing through the snow barefooted—”

That girl before.

I rewound her running image in my head. She was holding something in her arm.

No. That something was my Book.

Julianna Hartwell. I have come to claim her soul last night. I have come in their house. I dropped the Book. And it is in the possession of that girl, Julie.



“Now, Dark. Is it important?”

“Not much. Aside from the advance knowledge of people’s deaths, the exact time and the cause, you also have the secrets of the ancients as bonus,” I answered casually. “Oh and I almost forgot. The wisdom of Father Time. A bit of extra for those who know where to look.”

“What’s the wisdom of Father Time?”

“The real answers behind the humankind worst tragedies since the time of creation. How and why they happened. And when they will be repeated. Want an example?”

“A good one.”

“The ancient Apocalypse. How and why they happened,” I looked below the dazzling houses. “And when they will be repeated in this world they call modern. Simply stated, the Book is the written will of the Chief.”

She gasped and treated me a good serious face.

“Only a good fool would say that’s not much of importance.”

“And only a better fool would ask if it is important at all,” I answered.

“I’m afraid you shall be punished, Dark.”

“Yeah and I don’t care.”

“Dark!”

“But before I will have my punishment, I will definitely get that girl out of this trouble. Our trouble.”

“I don’t want that tone.”

“This is a chance of an eternity. The wisdom of Father Time. The written will of the Chief came strolling unescorted in the human world. What do you think would be most attracted to that?”

“That vermin,” her face went grim.



I never thought that breaking inside a house to fetch a soul was easier than breaking inside to save a soul. When mortals die, you have that unusual scent that makes you easier to track and find. Also, the Book is a real handy manual.

This time: No scent. No Book.

We landed inside the yard and headed straight for the front door. We knocked loudly. Not even a single croak responded. It was locked and bound in chains. I casually tugged it off as one would rip a paper. I turned the knob twice and it gave in. I pushed but the door tenaciously refused admittance. It seemed that there were other locking mechanisms inside. I grunted bitterly. That vermin, I thought. It’s challenging a death god. I put a palm on the door. My arms flexed. I thrust it for an inch. Then crunching and cracking sounds followed.

“Ah, no. Wait!” I blurted. The branching cracks on the wall stopped. “Whew.”

If it continued any further, anyone inside would be burned alive. Alright. This has to be done neatly and delicately as one would deentrail a fish without touching its meat.

I swung an arm and drew a silver scythe from the empty space. A neat slice would do.

“Come on, Dark! Rule number 1 for a death god. Thou shalt not destroy private proper—AH!”

There was the sound of metal being ripped apart. A loud crash. Stone blocks collapsed.

“Silence!”

I can hear remote voices. Conversing voices. One of them I know very well. That devil. I scanned the dark parlor. Nothing stirred. I glanced upward. The top floor.

I rushed upstairs.

“My little Julie,” the voice grew fragile and coarse. It was old yet so gentle. “Come.”

“NO! KEEP AWAY FROM IT!” I shouted sharply.

I threw the scythe. We were late. She had already stepped in the dark Pentacle. I twitched the side of my mouth in disdain.

She bound herself with the demon.

“NOOO!” the girl wailed.

“And why no,” I said.

“Dark,” Serenity whispered. I knew what she was thinking. “All stakes three are too great to lose. What are you playing at?”

I was scribbling complex symbols in the air with my fingers, controlling the scythe and trying to vaporize the demon on the spot. I closed my hand to a fist and pulled an imaginary string. The scythe returned to my grasp. I failed. The vermin was tough. It was laughing at me. And I have to admit I was piqued.

“Of course you know what is happening, my dear Dark,” it said in the voice of Julianna Hartwell. It snapped its clawlike fingers. “And you have forty seconds to do so. Mortals’ time.”

All stakes three are too great to lose. The Book. Julie. And Julianna Hartwell’s soul. They were all trapped inside that dark Pentacle. And in forty seconds that circle will burn and collapse. It will not be your typical cold fire. It will be the furnace of hell.

“You cannot get the book if you are to save them both,” mumbled Serenity.

It was not as simple as it looks like. This was greatly different from tying three people to a bomb set to explode in forty seconds. Someone has been called from the dead. Once the Pentacle had been emptied, she will be resurrected back to life as the vermin’s slave and she can no longer return to the Chief. When the Pentacle was dismissed through the fire, her bondage will be severed and she will be freed. In other words, the trap says: only two can be saved. One has to go down.

This devil was bargaining to a death god. I’ll make his memorable.

“Something has to occupy the Pentacle for her in forty seconds, otherwise,”

“Julianna cannot return. And that something will be in flames in a short while.”

The vermin was grinning at me maliciously. It was not a pretty sight. Whichever of the three stakes I will lose; it will accept it in wide claws and fangs. I eyed the Book cradled in the girl’s arms. If that falls in wrong hands, humanity will face the worst destruction the earth has ever seen. And Julie. The girl has life ahead of her.

All of these because some lousy Grim Reaper dropped his Book.

“Time is running out, Dark. Why don’t you call to your Chief? Or has He already forsaken a sinner such as you?”

I closed my eyes. The Chief. I knew He is watching. Weaving miracles around us. He can freeze Father Time and get us out of here. Or send lightning and wipe this vermin out of the face of earth.

But He doesn’t.

“Twenty seconds,” the devil chimed.

Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Time is running fast.

Wait. Time?

I smiled and looked up. Of course I know why He doesn’t.

He doesn’t have to.

“Please put down the Book,” I said to the girl. “And be real quick.”

The vermin grinned wildly.

“No,” she sobbed. “You can have this book if you want but I will be staying for my grandmother.”

Well, perhaps I can give admiring humans another try.

“It’s fine. Have my word. She will be fine. Trust me.”

“No! I don’t trust you! You took away my family. You make people grieve. How can I trust someone who sees people as nothing but ghosts?

“And yet I am here,” I said curtly. “Risking humanity for a single ghost.”

I stared at her coldly. Serenity nudged at my elbow. Well, what does she want? Cry my plea to the girl?

“Five seconds, Dark.”

“Drop it and close your eyes.”

Fortunately, she did. I have no plans to kneel or whine before her to prove my sincerity. I tapped the floor with the toes of my loafer. Three.

“Two,” I breathed and vanished.

One. I was back in my place with the girl in my arms. The vermin danced and hooted. And I wished I had averted my eyes. You would want to do that too if you wish to keep your appetite for the week.

“The Book!” it shouted triumphantly. “I’ll have that Book!”

“Zero,” I mumbled. “And if I were you I would be real quick about it before it’s too—oh.”

The Book erupted in flames.

The vermin halted in its frenzied merriment. Its sharp jaw was gaping open. It stared at the glowing lump of hearth wide-eyed that I thought its eyeballs would roll out from their sockets like billiard balls. I imagined kicking it with a bounce and a thud. It was then that I laughed my heart out.

“You might have expected me to give up the Book but you did not expect me to move in the last seconds, did you? Then that left you with no seconds to even peek a single letter from it. How pitiful. Suits you best.”

“You cheated me, Dark!” the vile creature growled. “I know my plan is foolproof!”

“Foolproof?” I laughed. “You are a fool to the deepest lining of your core. Don’t mind calling your plans foolproof.”

“Remember this: one day you will choose the losing bet.”

“No. You remember this. Never bargain with the god of death.”



MY REAL NAME IS CHAOS. The Grim Reaper. Twin brother of the goddess of life, Serenity. One day we will meet. That may be tomorrow for all I care. The Chief knows. So you better be prepared. When that time comes, you shall never bargain with me.



P. S.

You might not want to hasten that meeting. I am working overtime now and I still have a house to repair. But if you could not really help it, then wait for me. I’ll come for you with a wink and a grin.