I was going to go out to pick flowers for my inevitably dying father; he was a saint.

It was the sunniest it had been in months and I could see the flora enjoying the sunshine from my window, happily accepting the warm rays of sunlight that hit them, but one thing stood in my way from leaving my darkened fortress I call my room. There was an evil inside my mind, a need to just slaughter any living creature I could see, a lust for the blood that drips from ones veins to be smeared on my lips, the sensational flow of crimson fluid leaking into my mouth, giving my body an unearthly rush. I walked outside wearing the crucifix my father had given me for my first birthday with the hope that the evil I contained would go away, and sure enough, with the smell of the pollen in the air and the refined fresh wind which graced my face, the tendencies to be more fucked up than Albert Fish dissipated from the darkened corner of my mind and I could think as a normal human being again. I proceeded to walk towards the garden where the flowers grew; trying to decide what flower looked the most fitting. I stood on the porch; my eyes squinted so that they could adjust properly to what seemed like going from an eternity of darkness, to this blissful brightness. As I took a step down from that small ledge at the end of the porch, I noticed that the clear blue sky was disrupted by a single, beautiful cloud which, from my perspective, looked like a bunny rabbit. There was a shadow which had been cast upon the earth by the innocent cloud. The cool breeze swept up again but this time stronger. It sent a chill down my spine causing me to shiver, and just as I had recovered from the spasm that had wracked my muscles, I felt an emaciated hand rest itself on my shoulder. But somehow I could sense that this entity was innocuous. I relaxed and let things run its course. I felt a cool zephyr on my neck. I could hear something breathing with a raspy undertone. I am Death. it whispered into my ear. I turned around and saw a cloaked skeleton with a scythe strapped to its back with an old frayed rope; hunched over to allow us to be face to face.

Im not scared of you I said calmly. Ive seen more sinister things in my life, and compared to what Ive been through, youre just a pansy-ass butterfly, dancing around the rainbow coloured flowers with a tutu and tiara. I turned around and started walking towards the garden, ignoring Death. But what he said next stopped me in my tracks. I was intrigued with the offer he made me, we made a deal and he disappeared into a thin mist which was swept away with the wind which had kicked up once again. The sun appeared once more, shining brightly, as the bunny-shaped cloud passes over. Where Death had stood just under a minute ago, there was an orange lily, lying peacefully on the ground. It was eye candy to me. It was the perfect flower for my father. When I went inside, I saw my father was delusional; screaming and frantically jerking around. He was in pain. I smiled, knowing that this would be the last time I may ever see him, I went to his bedside and gave him the orange lily, but he was dilatory about accepting this gift. I forced it into his hand. He curls his body up slightly, trying to hint to me that his pain was at his stomach. Youre delusional Michael I said with a grin on my face. I stroked his hair back, wiping it out of his face. He was sweating intensely; I could smell the salty odour polluting the air. I saw a red stain on the sheets my father laid in. It was blood. I grinned and lifted the sheets, and to no amazement of mine I saw a gash across his stomach. I plunged my face into the torn flesh and I started to moan.

I felt a slight drop in temperature in the room and I could feel an immaculate presence invite itself into the room. My father had that look on his face as if he saw a ghost, and he had the right to look fearful, as Death was standing right behind me. I stopped the indulgence and turned around to acknowledge Death.

I use the tears of my victims as lube for my scythe. It allows for a cleaner cut, Death announced proudly, as if he had pleased someone of great importance. Death glanced at my father who was in excruciating pain. He couldnt bear this torture any longer and we all knew it. My father, struggling for air, let out a whimper. It grabbed my attention which was all he seemed to want. Why? he asked. I pulled his head up a little, and put my mouth to his ear. Because I hate everyone, especially those who wished to show me love. I could have saved you, let you die quickly and painlessly, but I wanted to enjoy your suffering. This monochrome world has no place for you. I straightened my fingers as if I was going to slap my father, but I drove my hand into his deep wound, cupping my hand inside his body so I could watch him squeal in pain. I lifted my hand out, a pool of blood lying in my hand, slowly leaking over the sides. I drank it. I could feel the rush fuel my body, and I turned to Death, nodding my head as if to signal I was done. My body started to shake. I stood up and allowed Death to move towards my father. Death touched my fathers forehead, and with one final effort, my father yelled I love you! Fuck off. I replied. He had passed away. I turned towards Death as he handed me a vial. I spat some of my fathers blood inside it. Now cure me you sick bastard. I said with an angry tone. I am forever grateful. Go to sleep. When you wake up, you will be a new man. Death said peacefully. Im back father! Death announced. H-how? a voice stuttered.

I have the vial. It only took one attempt and I did it! The task I had given you was meant to be impossible. There was no way you could have retrieved the blood of an arch angel, you cant even touch it! Well thats how cruel you are father. But it doesnt matter now, Im home and thats all that is important. You may take your place by my side, but first, tell me how you did it. I wish to know how you outsmarted your own creator. When I heard about Michael having a child, I saw the opportunity to come back home. I cursed his child at birth, causing him to have episodes where he thinks like a demon would. I knew that once an angel has a child, they forfeit their immortality, so naturally Michael was going to die. I appeared to Michaels son on the day of his death and told him that I could cure his demons and that he could live normally, he seemed to enjoy that idea. I cut Michael across the stomach with my scythe, however, I had to cover my weapon with previous victims tears so that Michaels blood does not stick to it, additionally it allows for a cleaner cut. When the son was at Michaels side as he lay there on his death bed, my presence pushed his child to the edge, causing him to devour his fathers insides. He spat out some of his own fathers blood into the vial I hold before you, so that I may return to your kingdom, in return, Michaels sons life will become normal when he wakes up from his sleep, with the exception of the memories of the events completely fucking with his mind. I made sure Michael suffered as much as possible, just as I did as I waited for him to eventually die. Ha-HAA! The voice chuckled. Thats my boy! Michael was a cunt anyway.

Death talks to god, god asks how death got the arch angels blood, it was meant to be an impossible task. Death cursed unnamed from birth, somehow got unnamed to unknowingly poison his father, father is terminally ill. Death cannot touch the blood of an arch angel so he got unnamed to do it all for him, after removing the curse. Thank you. He said with a smile. When I was cast out of heaven, God had given me a task, and only after I had completed it, could I return to his side. I have waited what seems like an eternity for this moment, for the collection of an Arch Angels blood. I told it I wasnt scared, and that if it didnt piss off I wouldnt have any trouble with fighting it, after all I know what I am capable of, but it didnt want to fight, instead it gave me an odd choice of how my father would die his inevitable death As I stepped down from the step, one large cloud covers the sun, making it shady for a minute, death comes at this point. When death leaves, a minute has passed and the sun is out again. The clouds represent evil, and the sunlight relinquishes it The porch has one step, that step separates the shadow of the cover from the light from the sun Death comes and greats me letting me choose a slow or fast death for my father I whisper to death a slow one so that he bleeds Father was inevitably going to die anyway As he is dying, I lay the flower on his chest while blood oozes from his body, I have respect but I hated my father with a passion, so I drank the blood which leaked from his body, sending me to an oriental (replace oriental with a different word) high Michael (my father) is the arch angel, and death is the devil, only needing his blood to pass through to heaven once more to live there by gods side. It was all a mission, instructions by god for how Satan could return to gods side. Michaels blood was what Death needed, and since Michael was going to die, Death would never be able to return to heaven

Flowers representation: Begonia dark thoughts Orange lily hate Innocuous not harmful or offensive Emaciated bony, very thin from disease, hunger or cold Dilatorily intending to delay / postpone