While stoking the fire in The
Oast, Alex looked up to see more than just hops. There stood, largely hidden by his shadow,
was what could only be described, judging by its ugly hybrid outline, as a
monster.
Alex stood slowly and carefully before side-stepping to his right to
allow a better look at this strange newcomer.
It had the head of an owl whose eyes were surveying Alex coldly,
checking for signs of fear; its face otherwise showed no emotion. Alex had always liked owls, he thought it was
cute how small their skulls were and had always wanted to poke a finger into
the thick covering of feathers on one’s head to see how much of it would
disappear. Faced with an owl’s head now,
he could do nothing but stare at the perfect (ie, muscular, hairless and
spotless) male torso that started where the owl feathers ended, making the
necklace that was the last feathers look like the neck of some hideous
jumper. Under other circumstances, this
observation might have made Alex smile, but this mongrel had a gaping hole in
his chest where a heart should be, the arms of a bear and the sexless front
legs of a stag. He guessed this
monstrosity had no need for hands that could sew or write or build anything and
was designed for something else entirely.
This thought made him sure he had smiled for the last time and dread
filled his chest; and was confirmed by its shadow and from the small section of
the wings he could see rising above the monster’s shoulders. Alex would have said they were the wings of
an angel if it weren’t for the fact that they were Raven black.
“Hey,” Alex finally said, having taken in the scene and noticing the
thing was being a little quiet. It
continued only to stare at him, unblinking, as if it was trying to bore through
Alex’s head with telekinetic powers.
Alex tried again in a slow and awkward manner, “Hello, my name’s Alex,
this is my house. My girlfriend’ll be
back soon…. Er, hey…” “I know.” Its beak
never moved, Alex heard its voice in his head, right in the very centre. And very loudly, he was sure his teeth
rattled. And it was as cold and
emotionless as its ornithological face. “Why are you here, mate?” He hoped this sneaked-in chumminess would go
down well with this cold and nasty looking individual. “I’m not your mate, Alex” said the God-like
voice in his head, “I’m your death.”
Obviously it was not. “Oh,” was
all Alex could manage to begin with.
Then a second later, “But I’m only twenty-five. And my girlfriend’s in the kitchen.” “I know Alex, but the fates and your heart
are working against you.” Images of fast
food and beer flashed through Alex’s mind and he looked down at his gut
regretfully. “As the condemned man, you
have one wish.” Alex could only laugh
hysterically at this: the realisation that, no matter how nice he might be, how
law-abiding, he was now as equal as any man moments before the trap-door opened
and his neck was snapped. Eventually he
regained control and asked what almost every person asked their death for. “So it shall be done,” the uncaring voice
boomed in Alex’s head and he didn’t believe a word. Its wings briefly flicked air away and Death
and was suddenly on top of Alex, pinning the poor lad to the floor and stomping
one hoof into his chest before dropping to his knees and starting to tear out
his heart by swiping at his chest with its great paws. The sharp stabbing pains running down Alex’s
left arm were as excruciating as they were bewildering while his chest felt,
quite simply, like death- final and empty.
Alex’s final thoughts were of his life and how it had all come down to
this. Once his breath had stopped, Death
got up and left. Only then did time
start up once more.
***
Michelle came back from powdering her nose five minutes later to find
her boyfriend gone from this world and lying, rather ironically, in a scene he
had created for romance. The doctors
assured her that though the heart attack had been massive, his death had been
very quick and relatively painless.
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