The last grain of sand slipped from my fingers.It disappeared the moment it hit the wet stone, as if the ground had swallowed it, mixing it into the endless rain.For a heartbeat, nothing happened. I wondered if the bargain had been a cruel joke, a trick played by Death itself.Then the rain grew louder, pounding the stone with a steady roar. What had been gentle drops turned into a wild torrent, drumming over the night.
Then, without warning, the rain stopped completely.The heavy downpour from moments ago was gone, leaving the air eerily quiet.Drops no longer hit the stone. The sound of water disappeared, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves in the night wind.The wet ground, once slick and shiny, began to dry quickly, the puddles shrinking until they were almost gone.Even my jacket, wet just moments ago, was now dry, the sleeves were warm against my arms, the fabric light and clean.
I repeated the words again, making sure they were loud enough this time: "I know what I want, and I'm ready to pay for it"
A chill ran through me, sharp enough to steal my breath. My skin prickled, and every instinct screamed that something was wrong. The city felt empty, like a stage abandoned in the middle of a scene.
The streetlights flickered once.Their light stretched into long, twisted shadows. Too long, too wrong, reaching farther than they should.
And then the shadows moved.
Then, suddenly, they shifted aside, peeling back like a curtain to reveal what stood behind them.
Who stood behind them.
One moment the space in front of me was empty. The next, it wasn't.
He stood only a few steps away, tall, motionless, as if he had always been there and I had simply failed to notice.
He looked… newly awakened.His hair was tousled, white strands falling into his eyes. His coat draped loosely over his shoulders, one sleeve crooked, the collar uneven, as if he hadn't bothered straightening a thing. His shirt hung half‑buttoned, revealing just enough of his sculpted chest to catch the light.
"You woke me up," he said.
His voice was flat. Almost tired.
I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know Death slept."
He tilted his head, red eyes catching what little lamplight remained. "Of course you didn't," he replied dryly, a faint thread of amusement slipping through.
I crossed my arms. "Well, now I do. Makes you a lot less terrifying, honestly. You look like someone who needs coffee."
My eyes started at his hair, pale and messy, catching the faint light. I traced the line of his jaw, the curve of his neck, almost without thinking. My gaze drifted lower, over the slope of his shoulders, down his chest, drawn by something I didn't expect to see.
That's when I noticed it, a thin, dark mark curling along his skin. I froze, staring, trying to figure out what it could be. A scar? A tattoo? Some kind of ink… or magic? I couldn't tell.
He smirked faintly, clearly thinking I was looking at his muscled chest. "If you want, I can unbutton the rest so you can see it properly."
I glared at him, sharp and pointed, letting him know I wasn't impressed.
Then my eyes drifted back down, and I caught sight of it again. The dark mark disappeared beneath the fabric just as quickly as it had appeared.
"What is that?" I asked, pointing at the mark. "The one that keeps disappearing."
His expression changed immediately, subtle, but enough to notice. Shadows at his back stilled, his usual casual laziness gone. "You can see it?" he said flatly, voice quiet, almost careful.
"Of course I can see it," I said. "It's not exactly subtle. Why does it keep disappearing and reappearing?"
He let the pause stretch, just long enough to make me shift uncomfortably. Then, almost teasing, he said,"It's none of your business. Not something meant for mortal eyes."
I rolled my eyes. "I apologize, Your Highness," I said bowing sarcastically "Curiosity clearly doesn't suit someone of my lowly mortal status"
"Curiosity can be dangerous," he said, calm as ever, shadows curling tighter around him. "Especially when it's curiosity about… immortals."
I tilted my head. "Oh really? Are you going to take my life because of that ugly little mark that i pointed out Mr Souleater?"
He didn't answer right away.He just looked at me.Not amused. Not teasing. His expression shifted into something still and deliberate—like the moment before a door closes. Somehow, that was worse than any threat.
Yes.The answer settled between us without a word.
My breath caught before I could stop it.
Then, just as easily, the weight vanished. He straightened, voice returning to that calm, infuriating steadiness."Your necklace broke, which can only mean you're ready to make that wish," he said, his tone smooth and certain.
"But I will warn you," he continued, his eyes flicking briefly to the spot where the sand had vanished into the stone. "Your wish… it is far more complicated than you realize."
My jaw tightened. "What do you mean?"
"It isn't my place to interfere between you and your wish," he said calmly. "What you ask for is yours alone. The consequences as well."
"Are you trying to scare me or something?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He tilted his head, calm as ever."I'm just telling you, out of dignity."
I snorted. As if, you have any.
He froze, and I realized too late that he'd heard my thoughts. His eyes snapped to mine, sharp and lethal, a death stare that made my skin crawl.
He let out a slow sigh."Here's how it works," he said, his voice soft "The wish is yours to make. The cost, however, is mine to claim."
My brow furrowed. "But you said I decide what I can offer."
A faint smile touched his lips. "That is the misconception mortals make when they believe they are bargaining with me. I am not like the other immortals, striking neat little trades." His gaze darkened, steady and absolute. "I am Death. And I decide what must be taken to make any wish come true."
"Then what do you want?" I asked.
His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile."That depends on what you ask for," he said. "Though I already know what you want."
That sent a ripple of unease through me. My chest tightened, a quiet warning settling in my gut.
This was exactly what my mother had warned me about. A bargain with immortals wasn't something you could run from or escape by disappearing into another country.It would sound easy. Reasonable, even. They would make it tempting, offer it like a gift. But to immortals, it was nothing more than a game, played by beings who had lived forever with nothing to lose.
I wasn't so different. I had nothing left to live for either.So if I could make this one small wish come true, then so be it.
"Fine" I said at last. "I accept the terms of your bargain."
The words felt heavier than they should have, settling deep in my chest. I drew in a slow breath and closed my eyes, steadying myself."I'm ready to name my wish."
The silence stretched.
I took one breath, then another, slow and measured.
"I want to see my mother."
When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with that same unreadable calm. Then his lips curved into a faint smirk."I'll ask you again, Adora Domine," he said smoothly. "Are you certain that's the wish you want?"
"Yes," I said without hesitation.
The smirk didn't fade."Then the price for this bargain," he said, voice even, "is your soul."
"What?"
The word slipped out before I could stop it. My stomach dropped, my mind scrambling to catch up. My soul? That wasn't—I stared at him, shock crashing through me all at once, the weight of what I'd just agreed to finally sinking in.
Pain exploded across my back without warning, sharp and burning, like something was being carved into my skin with a needle. I gasped, stumbling forward, my hands clawing at my jacket as the pain spread.
I tore it off. Beneath it, my white shirt was already stained dark with blood, soaking through the fabric. My hands shook as I turned toward a nearby window, desperate to see what was happening to me.
I twisted enough to catch my reflection.
Etched into my skin was a tattoo, thin, precise lines forming symbols in ancient language I didn't recognize. The pain faded as suddenly as it had started, leaving behind a dull ache and the mark itself, dark against my skin.
My breath came unsteady as I stared.
Slowly, I looked at him.
On his wrist, just peeking from beneath the sleeve, was the same mark. Identical in shape and color to mine.
My stomach dropped as the realization hit. Whatever he'd taken from me, whatever this bargain truly was, it had marked us both.
And then it clicked. The mark I'd seen before on his chest wasn't just decoration. It was another bargain. Someone else had paid a price to him, just like I had.
"No… no!" I whispered, my hands trembling. Rage flared hotter than fear.
"You monster!" I screamed, launching myself at him. My fists pounded against his chest, sharp, desperate, powerless against what he was.
He didn't even flinch. Not really. He only tilted his head, watching me.
But I didn't care. Anger burned in my veins, and I hit again, harder, screaming, "You monster! How many lives have you taken?!"
His gaze darkened, and his voice dropped, steady and unforgiving."Did you forget," he said, "or do I need to remind you who I am?"
He leaned closer, shadows curling at his feet."I am Death. Mercy is not something I possess."
My chest tightened as he continued."I warned you, every wish has a cost, and never a small one."
Then his eyes locked onto mine, unblinking."But understand this, when you stepped into my church or should I say my study, the doors opened because you were already willing to pay that price. You didn't come seeking hope."
His voice softened, somehow making it worse."You came ready to give up your soul."
The realization hit me all at once.He was right.
I had been so tired, so fed up with the life I'd been dragging myself through, that none of this should have surprised me. I'd already stopped caring what happened to me. I had nothing left to lose.
Nothing… except—
My mother.
My breath caught, panic cutting through the fog in my head."What about my wish? You said you'd grant it. Where is my mother?" I said, my voice shaking.
For a moment, he just looked at me. Then he smiled.
The hairs on my arms lifted instantly. Goosebumps spread across my skin. Something about that smile was wrong.
"I can take you to her," he said calmly. "But I warned you, your wish is complicated."
I clenched my jaw, anger flaring again."It seems to me that's all you do," I snapped. "You warn and warn, but you never explain. You never say why it's so complicated."
He tilted his head, still smiling, and said softly, almost amused,"That's the fun of it."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "The fun of what? Watching people suffer? Playing with their lives?"
His smile widened just a fraction.
He smiled wider, calm as ever."I am Death, after all," he said. "I'm not meant to be rainbows and butterflies, you know."
I crossed my arms, glaring at him."Unbelievable," I muttered, teeth gritted. "You're insufferable."
He just let out a little chuckle. "In order for me to take you to your mother," he said, voice low, deliberate, "we'll need to… traverse."
I blinked. "Traverse? What does that even mean?"
He shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world."I don't like walking on feet," he said casually, "too slow. I'm used to moving differently. Faster. Deathly differently."
I stared at him, a mix of disbelief and irritation churning inside me."You mean… teleport?" I asked.
"Call it what you will," he said, his smile widening slightly, enjoying my incredulity. "It's easier this way."
Then, as if on cue, he extended a hand toward me.
My instinct screamed to push it away. My anger screamed at him for everything he'd done. And yet… I was tired, desperate, and I wanted to see her.
I bit back a growl, still glaring, and took it.
The moment I took his hand, the world twisted around me. Light stretched and bent, shadows flickering like they had a life of their own. I felt weightless, pulled forward, then suddenly… we were there.
The first thing I heard was the laughter.High, bright, endless, echoing off the cracked walls of the hall. It hit me before anything else, before I registered the smell of dust, the faded paint, or the scattered toys.
The hall was alive with noise, but it wasn't the kind of warmth you'd expect. Children ran through the long, narrow corridors, their laughter bouncing off the cracked, faded walls. Some darted between small wooden chairs, playing hide-and-seek with giggles that sounded too sharp in the silence that lingered beneath it all. Others chased each other carelessly, their bare feet slapping against the scuffed floorboards.
In one corner, a woman's voice cut through the chaos like a whip. She scolded a boy harshly for teasing the others, her frustration echoing and mixing with the children's cries.
And then I noticed her.
A small girl sat on the floor, her back slightly hunched over a set of worn toys. She didn't run with the other children. She didn't laugh, didn't shout, didn't even glance up from the careful movements of her hands.
She seemed as if she was completely separate from it all. Her eyes followed the other kids as they darted past, watching them play, but it was clear no one had invited her to join.
Even the teacher seemed to pass her by without a second thought, busy with the rest. The girl was entirely alone, a tiny figure swallowed by the chaos around her, left out and invisible in the middle of the crowded room.
Her small hands kept moving over her toys, careful and quiet, as if she didn't notice the noise and laughter around her or had learned to ignore it.
I turned to him, my brow furrowed, confusion knotting in my chest." Why did you bring me here?"
"Your wish was to see your mother," he said simply, as if that explained everything.
I stared at him, blinking. "Are you kidding me?!"
"I can't bring back someone who's already dead back to life," he said, shrugging.
"So… you brought me to a kindergarten?" I asked, staring at the small children running around, my frustration mounting.
He raised an eyebrow, still smiling faintly."Orphanage," he corrected, as if it were obvious.
I blinked at him. "Orphanage… right. Very funny."
He didn't laugh. He just looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head."Humans are so… stupid," he muttered, almost to himself.
I crossed my arms, my frustration boiling over."Then how about you explain to me what the hell this is!" I snapped. "You're taking my soul… for visiting an orphanage? I asked to see my mother!"
His voice sharpened, rising just enough to cut through my disbelief."I did take you to her!" he said, his words firm, undeniable.
I froze, staring at him. "What… what do you mean, her?"
He pointed toward the small girl, sitting alone among the other children, completely absorbed in her toys."That is your mother," he said, voice steady but carrying weight. "I warned you, your wish is complicated. I cannot bring someone who is already dead back to life. Especially not when they've been reborn."
I stared at the small girl, my chest tightening as my mind scrambled."No… no, this can't be…" I whispered, shaking my head. My hands curled into fists at my sides. "This isn't… this isn't what I asked for. I wanted to see my mother! Not… not this!"
The girl looked up for a moment, her wide eyes meeting mine, and something inside me twisted. She was the same, and yet not the same. Alive, but reborn. My mother… but not my mother.
I swallowed hard and turned back to him, anger and exhaustion crashing together."So what now?" I snapped. "You're going to take my soul? Fine. Take it. Go on."
His lips curved into a slow, cruel smile."When I said your soul was the cost for this bargain," he said smoothly, "I didn't mean I would take it from you."
I frowned, unease crawling up my spine. "Then what does that mean?"
"It means," he continued, voice calm and merciless, "that your soul belongs to me now. You will spend your lifetime with me, doing exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. If I tell you to eat then you eat if I tell you to die then you die"