The Paramour of Death

woman-in-redSilence surrounded the woman. The chaos had stopped and along with it the constant cacophony of blistering noises—gunfire, horns blaring, dogs barking, the screaming.

She fingered the red chiffon dress hanging on the bedroom door’s hook. He said the diaphanous garment was his favorite. A pair of strappy black stilettos sat on the dresser. He liked the way they made her long legs look.

The ticking of the wall clock, counting down every second, grabbed her attention. It’s not like she hadn’t known it would come to this. When she made the bargain years ago, it was her sacrifice. The one thing she’d have to give up in order for humanity to be spared. And now he was coming for her.

His smell, like scorched earth, traveled beneath the door. She needed to hurry. Those who made him wait received punishment instead of pleasure.

The door creaked open. His massive form filled her hallway.

“Have you said your goodbyes?” His deep voice shook the shadows and sent shivers through her bones.

“There’s no one left,” she said hoping he wouldn’t see through her lies. If he knew there were others, he’d take them too.

“Very well.” He held out his bony hand.

A foul wind embraced them. The woman’s home of twenty years disintegrated around her. She choked back the tears and tried not to think about the deal she made to become Death’s paramour.

 

 

 

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