An Exquisite Encounter
Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and undeniable, as he stood barefoot at the foot of his bed. But these weren’t tears of sorrow, not even close. They were the kind that follow a burden finally lifted, a profound understanding dawning. “Took you long enough,” he whispered, a warm smile spreading across his face, an almost disbelieving laugh catching in his throat. The air in the room, usually thick with the stale scent of his own overwork and despair, now hummed with an otherworldly calm.
Two Hours Ago
The truth was, he wasn’t sure exactly when he started using alcohol as a crutch. What began as a way to “take the edge off” after another grueling week at the office had steadily escalated into something far more desperate. Tonight, the half-empty bottle of vodka on the lounge's marblestone counter was less a comfort and more a confession. His reflection in the grimy mirror behind the bar looked hollow, etched with exhaustion.
“Only a few reasons why someone would be drinking this much,” a voice, smooth as aged silk, purred from beside him. He hadn’t even noticed anyone approach. “Either you plan on committing murder, or you’re about to do something remarkably stupid. So which is it, I wonder?”
He slowly turned, the room swaying slightly, and his breath hitched. Standing there, impossibly poised amidst the dim lighting and the din of the lounge, was a woman who simply defied description. “Probably something really stupid,” he managed to croak, his mind scrambling for coherent thought.
“Y-You’re… uhm…”
She grinned, a slow, knowing smile that seemed to understand the chaos in his head. Her long, straight hair, the color of raven’s feathers, framed skin so pale it seemed to glow, impossibly smooth. Her silvery eyes, deep pools that held both ancient wisdom and playful amusement, seemed to see right through him. And her smile- it radiated a warmth that seeped into his very bones, melting away not just his troubles, but years of accumulated weariness.
“Beautiful? Pretty? Oh, I know!” she chuckled, a sound like wind chimes in a forgotten garden. “Exquisite, aren’t I?”
“Perhaps more than that,” he heard himself say, the words tumbling out without conscious thought. “I’m afraid there aren’t any words to describe just how perfect you are. So enchanting.”
“Oh my! Way to make a girl blush,” she replied, though her eyes twinkled with a hint of something eternal, untouched by such simple human emotions.
Yet, despite her otherworldly perfection, there was a profound sense of familiarity. “Though I do feel a sense of… recognition. Like, we’ve met before.”
“Yeah?” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “I mean, it really is a small world, you know, Viktor.”
The sound of his name, uttered by this complete stranger, sent a jolt through him. “Viktor. It had been years since anyone had called me that-only those who truly knew me well, those from a life I’d long since buried beneath endless work and obligations.” Though the oddity registered. Lost in the haze of alcohol and her captivating presence, he never truly questioned it.
“I'm afraid it's time for me to go,” she added, a subtle shift in her posture, a hint of something inevitable in her gaze. “It's getting late.”
A pang of disappointment, sharp and unexpected, pierced through the alcohol-induced fog. He wanted her to stay, to bask in her impossible light just a moment longer. He tried to muster the words, to beg her, but his tongue felt thick, his nerves a chaotic mess. Still, he knew he had to try so he quickly composed himself, or at least tried to, and blurted out, “Might I have your name? And... May I see you again sometime?”
She paused at the edge of the table, her smile softening, growing almost tender. “My friends call me D. And as for seeing me again... You most certainly will, Viktor. Sooner than you think.” She gestured subtly towards the lounge door. “Also, I took the liberty of calling you a cab. There's no way you're fit to drive. Be seeing you!”
And with a final, enigmatic smile, she turned and glided out of the lounge, leaving behind a faint scent of rain and earth. Just as she vanished, the chime of a text message sounded-his cab had arrived, a clear signal for his departure.
“Home at last!” He mumbled as he fumbled with his keys, the apartment feeling colder, emptier than usual. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out cold.
The Revelation
But not a moment later, he was wide awake, his eyes snapping open in the pre-dawn stillness. And that's when he finally saw her, standing patiently at the foot of his bed, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. The woman of his dreams, no longer a fleeting encounter in a lounge, but a concrete, breathtaking reality.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he stood there, staring at the motionless figure on his bed-his own lifeless body, still beneath the covers.
These weren't tears of sadness, though. Quite the opposite, in fact.
“Y-You're...” He stuttered, even though he knew. With a clarity that sobered him instantly as he had deduced exactly who she was.
“Death,” she completed, her voice as gentle and comforting as her smile. “Took you long enough,” he whispered, a profound sense of peace washing over him. This time, the smile was easy, truly warm.
She stepped closer, her expression one of gentle empathy. “You suffered a heart attack in your sleep, Viktor. The years of overworking yourself, the stress, the neglect... they finally caught up, and so did I.” She extended a hand, elegant and inviting. “Shall we depart?”
“At long last,” he breathed, reaching for her. “My dream has come true.” For so long, he had chased success, security, something indefinable, only to find it in the quiet embrace of the end. His release, his peace, had been waiting for him all along, embodied in this exquisite, familiar presence.
Or- so he thought…
Never in his wildest dreams- or nightmares, for that matter-had he imagined standing as an unseen observer at his own funeral. The chill of the church, the faint, cloying scent of lilies and somber suits, even the muffled sobs-all of it registered with the startling clarity he remembered from life. What truly stunned him, however, wasn’t the grim faces or the hushed whispers, but the sheer number of people gathered. More baffling still was the undercurrent of genuine sorrow and affection in the air. These were people here to say goodbye to their... old friend. “Friend?” The word felt foreign, heavy with a significance he hadn’t truly grasped in life.
“D,” he murmured, tearing my gaze from the familiar faces of colleagues and distant relatives. “For what reason have you brought me here anyway? I never asked for this.”
She leaned in, her voice a comforting murmur beside his ear. Her presence was warm, a stark contrast to the church’s coolness, and her scent- that clean, refreshing mix of rain and earth-was as vivid as it had been at the lounge. “Because, Viktor, I thought it would be nice for you to finally see that you were loved. Cherished. Even.”
He had absolutely nothing to say to that. But to stand there, invisible, and listen to them speak of him- mostly positives, thankfully, with only a few unavoidable negatives was- profoundly unsettling.
Yet, it was also deeply, surprisingly heartwarming. A warmth spread through his chest, mixing with a sharp pang of regret. “Regret?” The feeling was potent, a bitter taste on his tongue, as real as any he’d known in life.
“Come on now,” D whispered, her arms sliding around him from behind, drawing him into a soft, unexpected embrace. “You waited patiently for Death to come take you, and now that you’ve finally met the woman of your dreams, you’re having second thoughts?” Her voice was a playful purr against his neck. His body stiffened. “I-How did you…? Wait, what?!” His cheeks were set ablaze. “Let’s leave that topic for later,” he quickly added, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Why, what’s the matter?” she asked, her grip tightening playfully.
His attention, however, had been snagged by something else, a flicker at the entrance of the chapel. “That shadowy figure next to the man over there, at the entrance,” he pointed, a fresh wave of curiosity overriding his embarrassment. “Is that a ghost of sorts?”
D followed his gaze, her playful demeanor instantly shifting to one of keen observation. “Ah, so you’ve noticed.” Her voice dropped, tinged with a new seriousness. “That shadowy figure’ isn’t a ghost, Viktor. It’s one of my subordinates-a Reaper. But for him to be here… that strikes me as a little odd.” Her brow furrowed, a silent question forming in her eyes. Then, with a sudden, decisive intake of breath, she raised her voice. “SIRIUS! Over here, will you?”
The shadowy figure moved with startling speed, gliding across the floor, seemingly unnoticed by the living. In moments, he stood before them, a tall, slender being cloaked in deep shadow, his face obscured by a low hood. He bowed, a gesture of respect.
“What brings you here, my Princess?” His voice was a low, resonant rumble, utterly devoid of the playful tone D had used.
“Oh, skip the formalities, Sirius. Explain yourself. Why are you here?” Her tone was firm, brooking no argument.
“But before I do,” Sirius began, his head tilting, “Who is-OHO! It's you, ain't it? I've heard so much about yo-”
Before he could finish, D's eyes, which moments ago held warmth and amusement, hardened into a deathly glare. The air around her seemed to chill, and Sirius, mid-sentence, froze, his excited tone instantly silenced. She exhaled slowly, as if calming a storm within herself. “Okay. Now, let's hear it. Clearly.”
“As you wish,” Sirius conceded, straightening. “you see, that man standing over there, the one by the entrance, is expected to die in the next couple of hours. His car will collide with another on the way back from this very cemetery. He'll end up hospitalized, in critical condition. As for why I'm here: I was dispatched to escort him to his final resting place, as he’s lost the will to live.”
Hearing that, hearing the stark reality of it, sent a cold wave through him. But it wasn’t just the facts; it was the realization. The man Sirius pointed to-his own father. And the crushing weight of a promise, one he had failed to keep yet again: to live long enough to one day lay him to rest. The regret intensified, burning like acid.
“I know, Viktor. Or rather, I’ve known how you felt for the longest while now,” D said, her voice soft, empathetic. “Your pains, your sorrows, your regrets. You want to help him, your father, don’t you?”
His reply was a simple, raw, “Yes.” But the question lingered, unspoken: How? How could he possibly help him now?
D pulled him closer, her embrace a silent promise. “Worry not about that, but take comfort in knowing that I’ll be with you every step of the way. So just- be ready when the time comes.”
“Something tells me you’re enjoying these hugs far more than I am,” He couldn’t help but quip, a small smile returning despite the gravity of the situation.
“Damn right I am!” she replied, a genuine giggle escaping her lips. “It’s because you’re so warm!”
“Sooooo… is it safe to say that you guys are now- I know, I’ll stop talking.” His words trailed off as D’s deathly glare found its mark once more.
D simply gave a serene smile. ”Good subordinate.”
Sirius muttered under his breath, “I’m always a good subordinate. Just sometimes… my enthusiasm gets the better of me.” He straightened, adjusting his shadowy cloak, a hint of playful exasperation in his posture before he nodded towards the exit.
“Right then. Let us not keep your father waiting.”
