Death's Narratives

Death's Narratives   Chapter 13

Fivrelle wakes up from the sound of her ringing phone, a call from someone. Sneaking through the other side of the pillows after opening her eyes has always been her thing. Just staying still, feeling the cold parts of the bed brought by a not-so-good night sleep. As usual, her nightmare visited her in her slumber. Those pills just exempt her from having a hard time sleeping but not for the time when she is in the middle of an altered consciousness while not being awake. She rubs her eyes as she yawns and does some stretching before turning the phone down, doesn't even look at the one who's behind it. From the looks of it, she knows who it might be."Pesky phone calls. Every damn morning. So ea

Death's Narratives   Chapter 12

Here I am again. Outside the bungalow of someone who awakened after a grievous fall from a 70-meter building. I walk to the door and see it again: the doormat. Two weeks have passed and I wonder how many people have been offended by seeing the inscription and feel unwelcomed. Er, I think that she doesn't have many friends or even acquaintances considering how lacking her responses are towards them, except for that one persistent woman, named Honna, who has been calling her on a daily basis. I am not going to emphasize it further, but seriously, she needs to remove this freaking doormat.This is the only time, for over thousands of years of my existence that this happens. I always check on people from the day of their birth, be a witness to how far they'll go in life, and finally collect their soul when their time is up. But this time, it's different. I return to a human to collect her soul for the second time.Looking back on some instances, this had already happened b

Death's Narratives   Chapter 11

Three more attacks happened within the day. The cities of Lahore, Bekasi, and Yangon encountered fewer losses compared to the one in Istanbul, but it doesn't mean the lives lost there are insignificant. They died. Regardless of the numbers, they are still people whose stories have ended. Their narratives, including their last moments, I will be holding onto my memory until I forget them as time passes by.Twenty-three casualties combined to 103 in Istanbul alone. Due to the difference in the number of deaths, the attack in Hagia Sophia has taken the attention of international media. Holding the title as one of the most famous tourist destinations, people around the world are also waiting for more information about what happened to a heritage that harbors rich archives. Its beauty will forever be tarnished with the tragedy, while its history, just once again, needs an updating.

Death's Narratives   Chapter 10

Their stories are just a miniscule of narratives that belong to billions of people inhabiting this world. I always think of just sitting somewhere and collecting their souls by the time of their passing. But if I were to do that, then who'll be the one to tell their own stories? I believe that I have every right to do so.Aside from that, if I left the thousands of wandering souls unattended, it would be a complete disaster. The way to the other side is a dark and tedious path. They need a guide who will accompany them as they make their way to the Realm. And since they could not return to their bodies, they would meander—becoming lost, adrift in the land of the living. When that happens, they would become ghosts and eventually bring ill omen upon the world.Though natural disasters are essentially backed up by science, man-made disasters tell different stories. There are several events in history which are caused by these roaming ghosts that resulted in human ne

Death's Narratives   Chapter 9

My endless job lets me meet different kinds of people. Somewhere along these times, there are those who just want to be reborn, to start again after watching how their lives turn into shambles. Unfortunately, wishes aren't in anybody's command. They have to work for whatever their aspirations are no matter how hard their lives get. They only have an option to strive for it and be considered a winner, or give it up and be treated as a failure.This can be observed from how they are raised from a young age. People, primarily the parents, are instilling these thoughts inside a children's mind without considering what pressure it brings as they grow up. Children who are raised this way tend to fear failure. When the expectations are not met, disappointment comes after. Sometimes, this will weigh on them all the way until the path they once knew just becomes blurry, with them left in the middle—unsure of what directions they should take. And along these times of uncertainty,

Death's Narratives   Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8"Why didn't you ask for more?""Tomorrow, they'll kill me. What's the point of having a feast?""I see. May I join you?""Sure. Have a seat.""Here is your hourglass. The amount of sand on top is your remaining time. Slowly, all the sand will fall indicating the end of your life."In one of the rows of prison cells inside the Lyreace Correctional Facility in Georgia, Colton Thrusue dwells. The four sides of the three and a half square meter cell have been surrounding him for over three years now. The window for ventilation is not present but an exhaust fan on the corner of the ceiling provides proper air flow. The only opening is the detention door that has a vertical rectangular glass which guards use for daily checking. The bed is fixed on the gray wall by the side of the room and is opposite to the sink and toilet.Colton was sentenced to serve the rest of his life waiting on the death row.

Death's Narratives   Chapter 7

Possession is one of my prowesses as being the gatherer of souls. One at a time, I seized people's minds and bodies. To take control over them, merely for my selfish desire and curiosity. To know their thoughts and use it as a way to have a share of knowledge they acquired throughout their lifetime. Hundreds of thousands of people, with their flesh and bones, whom I manipulated in order to attain a fundament that I would use in forging my human form. Over the years, I succeeded.Seeing my reflection on the still water of Lake Baikal, I watched my body slowly materialize, naked and bewildered. Having my own human form, the envy I felt towards humans gradually dwindled. I was able to sympathize with them as their thought processes gushed like waves. However, the amassed contemplation all led to a terrifying, cryptic darkness. I saw myself in their pain and suffering as I knelt and begged for additional time.

Death's Narratives   Chapter 6

The night watchmen did not even notice the loud thump when she hit the ground due to the northern soul song playing on the radio. Maybe they are preparing to end their shift, and loosening up after a whole night of guarding the establishment. They are different this time. I don't see the ones who were being interviewed the day of the last suicide case, which happened three months ago. They were terminated, obviously. Fortunately, the current guards would not be held liable for an incident without evidence.After walking a distance, the lady stands still at the rear of the building and leans her head on the glass partition. Unlike me, who cannot process everything just yet, she doesn't look like she is a bit bothered after what happened. Like she is already used to it. Like this had already happened before. That does not make any sense at all.She scans the surroundings before making a move. Because of the heightened security, cameras are all over the place. And if that

Death's Narratives   Chapter 5

Dawn emerges indicating the start of a new day. While the moon exits the firmament, the dark sky changes its shade to a glow of purple and orange. The fading city lights give way to the slowly surfacing sun. For some people, another day is a blessing that they are grateful for. Others consider it an affliction for it is one more day to be lived out. I belong to the others. Myriads of times, or possibly every single day, that I have been saying this but I am going to say it anyway. It's just another day. One more day of fetching souls. Thousands of souls. Again. Ah, this never ends.