Page 16 of Living with Death

His hands slide into his black slacks, and he rocks back on his heels. “I’ve been called that a time or two. I’ve been called many things.” His eyes, blacker than his suit, begin to glow like a dim ring light. He blinks, and they blacken again. “Any more questions?”

So many questions. Where do I even begin?A rock rests beside my head with blood on it as my glasses lie broken.

“Am I…”

“Dead?”

I nod.

“Not entirely. Your death is pending.”

I dart my eyes to the left, still seeing a mist of glitter floating around us. “Where are we now?”

“It’s called the In-Between.”

I lick my lips, running a hand over my chin, studying him. “So, you don’t wear the whole cloak thing?”

He smiles, but this time no teeth. “I prefer the suit.”

I prefer the suit, too.

“Are you the one who’s been speaking to me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you normally speak to people before they die?”

“No.”

He looks down at my body lying on the ground. “Aren’t you more concerned for yourself than knowing everything about me?”

“Well, yes, but you did ask if I had any more questions.”

“This is true, but I thought they’d be about your situation.”

“One doesn’t get to have a conversation with Death every day. You’re famous, you know?”

He frowns. “Can we be serious, please?”

I fold my lips, closing my eyes briefly. I nod. “Sorry.”

I see the amusement on his lips even though he tries to hide it. He doesn’t usually speak to people before they die, yet he’s talking to me. “This is how it ends, huh? On a bike.”

He walks closer. His eyes glow once more, darkness feathering around him like smoke. “It doesn’t have to. Would you like to hear my proposition?”

“Yes.”

He nods once and kneels beside my body, swiping his finger over the blood on my neck. He examines it, placing his finger between his lips. “Sweet,” he murmurs.

The air hits my tongue. Death just tasted my blood.

Is that hot? I shake that thought away. He stands, placing his hands back into his pockets. “I’m going to give you a second chance at life.”

I feel the wrinkle on my forehead. “Why?”

“Because I can.” He angles his head, walking around me.

Because he can? But why me? Have others gotten a second chance? I search the ground for these answers but then wait. “What’s the catch?”

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