Near Death Experience

I met Death the way one meets any dangerous, attractive man. The night was thick with clouds and the moon shone full, tainting the clouds with a yellowish glow. Living End wasn’t much of a club, but then again, I wasn’t much of a clubber.

Death first appeared to me as young white male, though it would reappear through my life in many incarnations. I remember with the greatest clarity that first time. There is a sharpness to that meeting that sticks to my eyelids. The smell of wet pavement lingering in air and the sound of a drum solo, throbbing in time to my heart.

" Are you sure don’t want to go back in side?" Mindy asked me, twirling a golden lock of hair around a finger.

" Yeah." I replied. " I’ll be in later. I need some fresh air."

She paused for a moment, caught between being a good friend and wanting to enjoy the first Friday night of summer break. I had told her I wasn’t feeling well to escape the oppressive, depressing air of Living End.

" You can go back inside."

" Are you sure?" Her deep brown eyes widened and internally, I sighed.

" Seriously. I’m fine. I might even walk home, so don’t worry about finding me later." I said, a little more gruff then I intended.

" All right." She shrugged. " Have it your way. "

After she stomped off, I slumped against the brick wall of the club and stared up, into the sky. The bright light of the town could fade the stars, but it could not dim the moon in her brilliance. It called in me a desire to chant and dance half-naked around a fire. I had to settle for just chanting as the dancing would attract more attention then I wanted.

" Aya aya aya aya ayay ayay ay dai da da dai dai." I sang quietly to the throbbing rhythm of the drum inside.

" That’s very beautiful." A cool voice spoke in my ear. I jumped away from the wall in fear and turned to face my assailant.

He leaned against the wall as cool as you please. Long black leather coat over a knit black sweater and loose faded blue jeans. His skin was pale, but his lips were an eerily bright red and full. Black hair ran riot down his face, hanging just short of shoulders. Eyes so pale blue, they seemed almost silver.

" You scared me." I gasped out.

" My apologies." His voice was a smooth tenor.

" Who are you? I’ve never seen you before." I knew the crowd at the Living End well enough to recognize a stranger among us. A sly smile spread on his lips.

" Some call me the Reaper, others Le Mort. I have many names." He spoke with ease, greasing his smooth words with another smile.

It was my turn to smile. This was just another gothic punk with delusions of grandeur, they grew thick on the ground of the Living End. I had seen a million of them, some claimed to be necromancers or physics. They were mostly harmless and sometimes diverting.

" I’m sure that’s not what your mother called you." I teased lightly, all the time fingering my mace keychain, just in case he wasn’t as harmless as I thought.

" I have no mother. When life began, I sprang into being. Human beings cast me into a mold of humanity." His slight smile lingered, making me wonder if he wasn’t more then a little off balanced or maybe high.

" Why did you come to the Living End? Doesn’t the Reaper have anything better do on a Friday night." I jested lightly.

" I liked the name. Also, I was looking for you." a chill ran up my spine. Ancient memory warned me: Fight or Flight.

" What does death want with me?"

" Not what you’re thinking. Your time is not over." A shiver ran over me so violent, I felt my whole body convulse. It occurred to me suddenly that this was not some half-baked teenager. Power crackled through the air.

" What are you?" I tried to step back, but my feet were rooted to the floor.

" I am the end of all things. " His eyes flashed and I saw that they were not blue at all, but a pure liquid silver that encompassed the whites and pupil. It was only a flicker, then they were blue again.

" That isn’t possible. Death isn’t a person." Pride filled me when my voice didn’t shake. The drum thudded in my head and heart drawing me farther away from reality.

" And neither am I. I appear before you as one because that is how you understand me. I am a projection of your view of death."

I examined him closer. The dark clothing, the dangerous languidly of his movements and the bulge of his sex. The pure sexuality that radiated from his core, contrasting with the cold alabaster of his skin. This was how I viewed death? An attractive over-sexed teen. He shrugged in response to my scrutiny.

" You aren’ t the first to be attracted to death, you know." I stared at him, trying to bore holes into his skull. He didn’t seem to care or notice. " You hate this place. The people, the town. You long for a life of travel and interest. A continuing flow of new people and places with only a few solid ties to life."

He spoke my most secret thoughts as if they were written on my forehead, I was totally entranced. He had managed to convince me of his power and depth. Desperately, I tried to fight his deep hypnotic voice, but I fear that that is task beyond human ken.

"How?" I managed to stutter.

" I know many things about you, Zara, named for Nietzsche's prophet Zarathustra." His eyes sparked again, the silver overtaking the pupil. " Tonight is not the time for revealing all. I come simply to offer you something."

" I don’t want anything from you." The drums had ceased inside, and I felt more myself. He must be a drug dealer, who spied on me and wanted me as a customer. It wasn’t the best scenario, but better then the one he was offering. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen first, then make your judgment." He shifted slightly, and I smirked. Death couldn’t get ‘uncomfortable’. "I am not quite death, but a metaphorical construct of death. I am formed by life’s impression of what death should be. For many years I was nothing more then an endless fire, bringing an end to cells. When life moved on, so did I. The first construct remained for the cells. Many of my forms exist." He looked at me, accessing my ability to absorb this tale.

I decided to listen to what he had to say. His voice, even without the drums, was hypnotic and entrancing. Even if I did not believe all he said, my interest was piqued.

" Go on." I nudged, still standing a few feet away, unwilling to get close. He raised an eyebrow, but continued on.

" There is a certain narcasisim in humanity, that created death in it’s own image. Each mind chooses a slightly different form, but almost always I am humanoid. In effect, I have been human for only a short time, almost a million years. Yet, in that short time, I have been so toughly molded into humanity that I almost see myself as one. Even the use of I and my show the downfall into humanity. Self-image, independent thought, needs and wants were things that were never before applied to the cessation of life.

" You are wondering how this applies to you?" I nodded unwilling to speak. " Because of my humanity, I have devolved something that no elemental has: A need for companionship and conversation, a longing for the banal things in others lives."

" Death is lonely?" I almost laughed. Here he had slipped up! Elemental, indeed. Stupid of me to believe him for even an instant. " Why come to me? I’m nothing special."

" You don’t believe me." He ground out. The air shifted suddenly like a brisk breeze. The club was gone, the night had fled. It was mid- afternoon in a very pleasant garden. Flowers of every shape and color ran riot over paths and ponds. I was alone.

" I’m dreaming." I said out loud. That sounded right and I smiled.

No wonder this evening was so odd. Only a dream could lend this sense of unrealism to life and make things shift about. No longer concerned for my safety, I decided to walk around the garden. It wasn’t easy, most of the paths were grown over and I had to be careful not to step on any of the delicate blooms.

I looked up at the sky, there was no sun or clouds only an endless light blue expanse. Nothing in the garden had a shadow, reminding me of a poorly programmed video game. Eventually, my meanderings led me to a soft circular pool and there I found the gardener. A very animated body, shielded from the non-existent sun by a straw hat and cloak, sat by the pool. The shapeless creature was running a careful hand here and there, snipping off flowers seemingly at random.

" Hello." I said politely. The gardener looked up. Even from under the hat, I recognized the young man from the club.

" Do you like my garden?" he asked, a quirk to his lip.

" Yes. It’s beautiful. I wish it wasn’t a dream." I wasn’t afraid of him, now that I knew I was dreaming. He smiled.

" You aren’t dreaming, but in a way you’re right. This isn’t real, it’s just another metaphorical construct. My house is up the path a way. Would you like something to eat?"

" I thought metaphorical constructs wouldn’t get hungry?" I teased. He shrugged.

" I do what I like."

" You forgot the sun." I noted. He looked up at the sky and shrugged.

" Better?"

And suddenly the sun was there, except wrong somehow. It was way too large, red and sickly. The garden flooded with radioactive glow. I shudder.

" It’s ugly." He shrugged again and it was gone.

" The only type of sun Death can have. A dying one."

" Oh. And clouds?"

" It doesn’t rain here, rain is a renewal of life. What would be their purpose?"

This seemed too logical for a dream, so I concentrated on threading through the garden. It seemed endless, rows of chaotic trees, bushes and flowers that stretched to the horizon.

" Here we are." Came a cheerful voice. I looked up, stunned. A medium sized, thatched cottage stood where seconds before there was only garden. It was a house from out of fairy tales, quaint and sturdy.

He held open the door and the inside proved to be like the outside. Cheerful and bright white, the walls were undecorated in the hall and the kitchen it opened into held only a small wooden table and two finely chiseled chairs. There were no cooking implements anywhere, no stove or refrigerator.

" You magic the food out of the air?" I asked bemused. He gave a slight smile.

" Food is made up of dead matter, my expertise." He gestured for me to sit. The chair was comfortable and by the time I had settled myself a simple meal of bread, butter and a hearty stew was presented in front of me. Fresh lemonade sat in a elegant glass pitcher that never seemed to diminish.

We ate in silence. The food tasted excellent and my belief in this dream world began to waver. No dream was this vivid or strange. Never before had I dreamed this abstractly or with this much reasoning. By the time I had finished and began working on a delicious slice of apple pie and a glass of milk, the full weight of what was occurring came upon me.

" You really are Death. I’m not dreaming." I finally said. He looked up at me and I couldn’t help, but wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through his thick black hair.

" Yes. All I have told you is true." He stared at me, waiting for me to respond. My mind was slow to catch up to the situation.

" Then.. What do you want with me? You already said that it isn’t my time to die, so why reveal yourself to me."

" I seek a human vessel. Someone who will live as a mortal and experience the trials and tribulations of life. I would visit this person often, outside of time as I am doing with you, now. Then in my own realm of timelessness, they will tell me of their lives. That’s all I would require." He held my eyes and it occurred to me that he would never back down from anything, he literally knew no fear.

" What would this person get in return?" I asked, aware of how selfish it sounded, but also aware that he did not know from selfish.

"They could journey with me on occasion and see a great many wonders that other mortals cannot even conceive of. They would live two lives in one span." The evenness with which he spoke betrayed no emotion about his proposal. He might as well have been discussing the weather for all the intonation he gave the subject.

" You want me to do this for you? To be your human vassal?"

" Yes. You meet all the qualifications. You’re story telling ability is vast, you wish to live beyond the world and yet, you fear leaving it entirely. You do not fear me, but most of all you have the patience necessary to teach to one who might never really learn the lesson."

" Do I have a choice?"

" Always." One long elegant hand reached out and plucked at the air, bending reality. He offered his pickings to me: a delicate silver ring, so thin a strong breeze could snap it. " If you accept this I will consider you my vessal, any time you take it off I will know and understand that you do not wish to be disturbed. When you wish out of the bargain, take it off and never put it back on." I stared at his hand.

" How will you know the difference?" I asked, my voice impossibly small.

" The ring is not for me, it’s for you. Another construct, in a way. I have found that mortals find material things comforting." Again he offered the ring in his palm.

I stared at it for a long time. Thoughts whirled in my head at a fantastic speed. There was an out clause. If I couldn’t take it, I could get just take of the ring. Part of me realized that there would be no going back, he was Death. His powers ranged fair beyond anything I could imagine. To teach him life would be like teaching a blind man to see. A challenge of a life time.

I reached out and took the ring, slipping it on the middle finger of my left hand. The metal felt cool and reassuring against my skin, much stronger then it originally appeared.

" Our bargain is sealed."

I looked up to answer, but found he was gone. I was back outside the Living End. The music had picked up again.

" Are you sure don’t want to go back in side?" Mindy asked me, twirling a golden lock of hair around a finger. I stared at her, stunned. I glanced at my hand. The ring was still there, terribly beautiful.

" Actually, I think I’m feeling better. " I straitened up and followed her back into the club with the taste of cinnamon and apple lingering in my mouth.