what a shame she's fucked in the head

in case you havent figured it out by now, im putting a story that i wrote and then didn't look at for four years up on here on my writing blog @littlesentences every saturday, with snippets on wednesday and friday. its called how to be human and i'll link the blurb here. under the cut of the blurb are links to all parts that are out.

in case you havent figured it out by now, im putting a story that i wrote and then didn't look at for four years up on here on my writing blog @littlesentences every saturday, with snippets on wednesday and friday. its called how to be human and i'll link the blurb here. under the cut of the blurb are links to all parts that are out.

They were in the grey place. They didn’t know why they were in the grey place, but as long as it was far away from the other people in Michael’s subconscious, Death didn’t really care.

In fact, they had turned around and walked away, leaving Life and Michael to stare at the changes they had made to the place as Michael had tried to get himself killed.

They hadn’t even planned on staying near them, walking over to the game they had been playing before Life had dragged them back to Michael. Then Michael said, like they had done something wrong, “What have you done to the place?”

Death spun back around and stared at him. “As if that’s the most important question.” They pointed away from them. “Who are those people?”

Michael crossed his arms, and moved his mouth into an angry frown. “That’s none of your business.”

Death copied him. “Yes, it is.”

Staring at him, Death thought about trying to make him believe it, but anything they thought about saying was … wasn’t good enough. Looking into his eyes, there was nothing Death could say that would make Michael tell them who those people were. Or why they were after him.

He seemed to want to deal with them all on his own.

Then Life stepped between them and gave Death a stern look that Death was all too happy to return. They need to know who those people were, and why they were after Michael—because they were in his subconscious. If he died, so did they. And if those people were going to bring his death faster, then they needed to know about it.

Death hoped Life got the message from that look.

They seemed to, because they turned around and looked at Michael and said, “What do they want from you?”

Which was a good enough question, with a nicer voice. But Michael still didn’t answer, he just said, “Why should I tell you? You just want to get out of here and leave me to die.”

“Michael, that’s not true. We want you to live, to see your family again.” Life always had spoken before thinking.

Michael looked around Life to stare at Death, who was staring at the back of Life’s head. They flicked their eyes to Michael, knowing what he wanted from them. But Death itself didn’t know the answer they would give Michael.

They wanted Michael to live—it was always going to happen after spending time with him—but it was impractical, and Michael should have died ten years ago. Death flicked their eyes to Michael before quickly looking away. What was Death supposed to do? Tell him that they wanted him to see his family again when, if Death was right, not even Michael wanted to see his family again.

Looking at the couch and chair they had asked for, Death heard Michael stomp off, walking into the maze of games to scream or destroy it, Death didn’t know for sure. But they did know that Life looked back at them and sighed, like they were any older than they were.

It might have been hard to remember looking at them, but Life wasn’t human and should know better. “You couldn’t have just lied for once in your life?”

Death looked at them and turned around and stomped into a different part of the game maze than Michael.

They would have sworn by a god, but there was no such thing. If there were a god, Death would not have a job, or be alive. They would’t have even had a reason to swear on a god because they would not have been a part of this. They would have killed to not be a part of this.

Lying wouldn’t have helped anybody. And Michael would have known they were lying, so what was the point?

Death walked until the only thing they could hear was the machines around them, and not the sound of Life’s footsteps, or Life calling out Michael’s name as they tried to calm him down before he destroyed this place, too. If he kept going like this, the only place that would be left for them to wait out the end of the week would be that street with the houses and the one car.

They never thought they would be over-aware of their own death. They had been planning on existing for a very long time, and it was all Life’s fault they weren’t. If they had just stayed a few seconds behind them, none of this would have happened, and they would not be waiting around for the end of the week with nothing to do.

Death wouldn’t have even noticed the week passing. Nothing about them would have changed.

But no. They were stuck in an eight-year-old’s subconscious with a death sentence. Death hit the game closest to them—a table with plastic people on sticks, like a mini soccer field. They knew more than Life ever would, but no one had died around one of these enough for Death to know its name, and now they never would. Death hit it again.

They had been around longer than everyone they had known before they were Death, long enough to not know what they had looked like anymore, or their names. They had planned to see the end of the world, spread so far around the world that they would have no thought to themself.

That was when they had planned to die. Not now, when the world still had so long to go, and humans were just starting to destroy it and themselves.

They felt their heartbeat in their fingers and thought maybe they wouldn’t have been ready to die then, either. Which made no sense.

Death was one of the only people who knew what was beyond the door. They knew better than anyone what it was like, and that it would come no matter what. They knew everything there was to know about dying, and there was no reason for them to feel their heartbeat in their fingers.

It wasn’t as though they hadn’t known it would happen at the beginning of the week. Staring into the grey place for the first time, it had been one of their first thoughts. They had had the whole week to face the truth. They were just being ridiculous.

Death looked at the mini-soccer table. They knew enough about it to know that it needed more than one person, and Life and Michael didn’t want to talk to them right now, so they would just have to walk away and find something else do. Like think about their death.

Not even who the people who are after Michael were that much of a mystery. They knew he had a little sister and a mum and dad—whatever was going on with them was a mystery though, but Death would only find out what it was when Michael told them. And Michael was not going to tell them.

He had spent ten years keeping his secrets to himself, he wasn’t going to stop now.

So Death sat down beside the mini-soccer table and waited to die. It wasn’t like there was any way Death and Life would be getting out of Michael’s subconscious alive. Not with Michael being unhelpful and starting to believe that he would die.

Especially not with Michael having just destroyed amusement park. And if he could destroy his amusement park, what made the grey place so safe?

Death didn’t think they’d be able to stand it going away, not when they had been the one to make it as a way to cope with being stuck in someone else’s subconscious. Michael could at least remake the amusement park—he had full control over his subconscious—but if the grey place collapsed around them, there was no chance they would get it back.

It had been useless before Death had filled it up, and Michael still clearly didn’t have a care for it. He hadn’t even mentioned it when they had got there. And Life hadn’t either. Both times. The only thing Life seemed to have cared about was that Death had decided to be pink.

And if Life had seen half of what Death had, they would have understood.

Death reached up and spun one of the metal sticks hard. The sound of the metal turning in place cut through their thoughts, and they decided they liked it. They reached up and spun it again. Then they looked at the other stick and stood to walk around the table and spin them all until they were screaming as they went around and around and around.

At least, it sounded like screaming. If metal could scream.

Listening to it, going around the table, keeping the sticks spinning and screaming, they thought about how many things screamed now. They slammed their hands on the sticks to stop them.

The dead silence that came next only made the beating of their heart louder in their ears.

They knew more than Life about the way the world worked now, but they also knew better than anyone the sounds people made as their souls left their body. They weren’t always screaming, but enough of them did that Death had been able to tell how the person was dying just from the tone of their screams.

For the first time, with their hands stretched over the sticks on the mini-soccer table, they thought they wouldn’t really enjoy being human in the real world again.

A crash came from behind them. And it wasn’t stopping. If anything, it was getting faster and louder. Death closed their eyes. They should know better than to leave Life and Michael alone by now, all that came with them was more death and destruction—although last time it had been Michael’s sister helping him.

The crashing wasn’t stopping, and Death didn’t want to wait around for it to get to them. But they didn’t know where Life and Michael were, so they took off running around the table and further into the maze.

The crashes sounded one step behind them, but Death did not slow.

As they ran, they thought about Life with their cane, and the way they had hobbled back to Michael’s side as the park had been collapsing around them. They really should have turned around and tried to find them in the mess they had created, but it was all they could do to put one foot in front of the other.

Barely dodging less and less familiar games, Death only just managed to stay on their feet and didn’t even notice when their cape tore on the edge of something. But the longer they ran, the louder the crashing got until they were barely dodging games they didn’t recognise at all already collapsing.

They ran around a large rectangle field with fake glass around it as the walls fell into it just as the game next to it started to fall as they passed under it. They didn’t even know a game could be that tall, but there it was, coming down on them. Just before it pushed them to the ground, Death dropped and tried rolling away, but their cape decided to be difficult.

After just avoiding getting crushed—if they twitched their fingers, they would have been able to touch what the game had become—their cape was caught under it, and Death couldn’t get up without getting rid of it.

One hand at their throat, they listened as the crashing passed them, and whatever came after the crashing followed. They didn’t even know where Life and Michael were, or if his subconscious would help them find them. If his subconscious was even listening.

But Death was still alive, still breathing, and their hand was still at their throat, toying with the ends of the cape. Death unclipped it and rolled to their feet.

Their first clue that they were not alone came from the feet they saw as they crouched. Their second was finally noticing how their ears were popping. Their third, and most obvious, came when they stood face-to-face—as much as possible, given the how tall Death was—with the mother of that little family standing as close as possible.

The rest of them were there as well, staring at the world around them like they had never seen this place before. But the mother knew better. Death would go so far as to say that it was the mother that had been running after them when they had first appeared in Michael’s subconscious.

Even the way she was looking around—after staring at Death for a second too long—seemed more … fearless. That was not the right word, but Death thought it was good enough. Especially once the mother looked down at them.

“Such a shame,” she said, a small smile on her face. “You’d done such a nice job, too.”

The mother’s smile grew and Death took one step back, and then another. They couldn’t put a finger on it, but it felt wrong. Like something was missing from the way she turned her lips up at them.

They took enough steps back Death slipped on their cape and then stumbled over the crumbled game, not trusting the little family enough to take their eyes off them. At least, not until the game was between them and Death knew it would take them a few more second to catch them than it took for them to turn around and start sprinting.

Death didn’t remember asking Michael’s subconscious to take them to Life and Michael—or taking a different turn than before—but there they were. Life kneeling far enough away from Michael, cane next to them, and Michael, staring right at them, clearly having just stopped crying.

One thing down, Death whipped their head around, looking for anymore destruction—to their left, things were starting to disappear—or the family—nowhere to be seen. This time, Death didn’t even bother to get anyone to hold onto anyone before asking Michael’s subconscious to get them out of there.

Prev.

Michael’s scream echoed in Life’s ears.

Life hadn’t honestly expected it to work. With what they knew after Michael had stared down a lion, they had thought Michael’s screaming would keep them firmly in the collapsing amusement park. Those rules must not apply to Death though, because the only sound was Michael’s screaming, and they were not in the amusement park anymore.

Letting go of Michael, Life looked around. There wasn’t too much to see, but they had a strange feeling in their bones that there would be if they didn’t get out of there soon.

It could have just been the pain that still hadn’t gone away, though. Life wouldn’t be surprised, since the second they thought about getting up, they almost groaned. Why had they sat down in the first place? They would have been able to be close to Michael standing, too.

Just because Death was doing it didn't mean Life had to. In fact, that probably meant Life shouldn’t do it.

The moment Life had let go of Michael, Death had too, and Michael had fallen still.

He wasn’t screaming, he was thrashing, he was just lying on the ground staring at the sky. Life thought it as good a time as any to start standing up again.

It hurt just as much as last time, their joints cracking as they brought up their knees, arms screaming at them as they held up their cane and pushed. They hadn’t expected it to be smooth, but they also hadn’t expected to stop halfway up, hunched over their cane that could only hold so much.

Oh how they wanted their blue armchair back. It was far less higher to get to, and it was something else to hold on to.

Something knocked into their thighs and Life fell backwards. The fall was much shorter than they had expected. And the landing was softer. Looking at what they landed on, Life let out a relieved sigh, and didn’t listen to Death’s frustrated one. They knew how Death felt about their blue armchair, but if Death could turn themself pink, then Life could have their blue armchair.

Sitting properly in it, Life properly looked around.

They were facing a row of houses, all of them the same as the one that came before. A wide front lawn, and a driveway with a path leading to the front door. Two windows were beside the front door, shutters closed on all the homes, and though there was a full shoe rack on each porch, there was no sign of life inside any of them.

Life shifted in their seat, thinking about the amusement park. Sure, it had some creepy elements, but those could be fixed. These houses gave Life chills. Not even Death should be able to stand something so lifeless.

They thought that they were happy they weren’t at the park anymore, though. Before Death had told them to grab onto Michael, they had had images of everyone dying before the week was up. It could still happen.

It wasn’t though this place was any safer than the amusement park, and if Michael’s nonsense ramblings were true, than nowhere else was safe but there. And ‘there’ was probably nothing but rubble now.

Though, there was no way to survive Michael’s subconscious without taking a few risks. The bell was proof enough of that.

Death, facing the other side of the street Life was pretty sure they were in the middle of, broke the silence. “Why are we here?”

Life turned their head and looked at them. “Do you want us to be back where we were?”

“No,” Death said, a little distracted, a little quiet. “But I don’t think here is too much better.”

And because Death wouldn’t say anything else, Life asked, “Why?”

Death just looked back at them and pointed at the house they were looking at. “Stand up and see.”

If Death had known how much it had hurt to get to sitting in this chair, they would not have said that, so Life groaned, loudly, as they did as they were told. They wanted to sit back down the second they put weight on their feet, but they turned around and looked at what Death was pointing at.

The feeling that Life had seen this all before was right. Life had. Life had also been a bit distracted by the popping in their ears and how close Death was to have remembered it the moment they had shown up.

But it wasn’t a problem now. Their ears weren’t popping, and it wasn’t as though Michael would be able to take them anywhere else. He was still lying on the ground, staring up at the fake sky.

The house Death had been facing showed more sign of life than any of the others, even though it was locked up and no one was home. And it was different to the ones Life had been facing, though the homes next to it were the exact same, if lifeless.

None of that really mattered though when it came to the car Death was almost standing on top of.

The last time either of them had been there, Michael had been safe in the amusement park, if not completely unknowing of what they would find, then safe enough from it to not think of it.

Life walked over to Michael and shook his arm with a foot. “Michael, why did you bring us here?”

Because Michael had told Life he had sole control over his subconscious, and at the time they had moved here, he had been screaming. Now he was staring at the sky, and they were deep in his subconscious, where the car that had hit him had been put.

Life didn’t think Michael would answer them, and Michael’s continued silence only confirmed it. And why would he? Life was not Death. They did not have half the experience of helping people as Death did. They had no idea what they would do if Michael looked at them and started talking about how it felt to be told he was going to die.

How it felt to have been so powerless over his own life for ten years.

Maybe Life could relate a bit to that. They couldn’t remember the last time they had had to make so many choices.

Death half laughed, half sighed. “He didn’t bring us here.”

“Who do you think did?” Life asked, staring down at Michael, hoping this conversation might get him up. He really had been lying there for a long time.

“His subconscious.”

Life had to remind themself that Death had not been there when Michael had gone insane and thought up a lion that only he had been able to get rid of because his subconscious would only do things ‘if he wanted it to’.

Two sentences fought in their head. One of them was meaner than the other—something that Death would have said without thinking and then not backed down from—but Life was not Death, and so they thought of something a kinder. “Who do you think his subconscious answers to?”

Silence came again and Life could feel Death’s eyes on them.

Unless you were confronted with a lion trying to kill you, it would be a hard thing to believe. Life probably wouldn’t have believed it if they hadn’t seen it firsthand, and their own thoughts were doing backflips trying to figure out why Michael would let his subconscious take them all here.

Last time, it had just been Death and Life at the beginning of it all. But they all knew each other now, and Life didn’t believe that Michael didn’t know just how dangerous this part of his mind could be. It was his mind.

And now that they were all here, the chances of all of them dying before the week was up went up.

“This amount of … thought is beyond you, Life,” Death said, making Life jump.

They didn’t know when they had stopped expecting a reply, only that they had. “Just because it’s an answer you don’t want to hear doesn’t make it wrong.”

“No,” Death admitted, “it makes it … bad. Because if Michael wants to be here then there is something we are missing.”

Looking down at him, Life knew Michael had to know where they were, and it had to be why hadn’t stood up yet to find them somewhere else to go. But if nowhere else was safe, then why were they in the least safe place in his head?

Slowly, Life said, “I don’t think he wants to be here.”

“Then why are we here.”

It was a question, but the way Death over pronounced every word made it come across as more of a point. Like Michael not wanting to be here was enough to make them not be there. If that worked, then Life and Death wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.

And if it really really worked, then their ears wouldn’t have started feeling funny.

Seconds later, on the porch of the house that felt like it had been lived in were three people—or two and a half people. That family that had been at the back of Life’s mind since the first time they had been here, and they were turning towards them.

They needed to get Michael out of their sight. If Life assumed what it was that scared Michael so much were these people, then they had to keep them away from him. They could have carried him and taken cover behind the car again, but unlike last time, they were out of time.

The little family was already looking at them. And the little girl had already seen Michael.

It wasn’t too long before they were all looking at him.

And even though none of them were looking at Life, Life couldn’t move. To move would mean they could go. To move would mean they could at least walk away from the pressure in their ears and find a safe place. To move would mean they had a way to leave Michael to whatever it was that was looking at him with such hungry eyes.

And Life could do a lot of things, but they would not leave Michael while he was lying on the ground to people he was scared of.

Then the people started getting closer. Life stayed where they were, and from the corner of their eye, they thought they saw Death getting closer to them. The pressure in their ears were distracting them from the pressure between them, so they couldn’t be sure unless they looked.

And Life was not going to take their eyes off the coming family.

Their clothes were covered in dust. But it wasn’t normal dust, Life had the feeling it was rubble dust, and there was only one place Life knew of that was being destroyed in Michael’s subconscious.

The family crossed what seemed to be an invisible line, and the pressure in Life’s ears popped. And the closer they got, they didn’t stop popping.

If only to stop themself from reaching out for Death’s hand, Life moved their cane to their other hand. The click of it on the ground stopped the family from getting any closer, and Life realised why a bit too late.

Switching their cane hand had put the cane in the space in front of Michael between Life and Death.

Life hoped the family didn’t take it as a threat. Michael’s fear was starting to move on to them. And if the way Death was staying still meant anything, Life would say they were also scared of the people in front of them.

The woman who had to be the mum, followed Life’s cane up to their face and blinked. She didn’t look away, and Life was about to ask what she was doing when she looked back down to Michael and said, “Michael, darling, let’s get up and get you fed now, alright.”

She had said it like a question, but there was no question on her face. She was smiling, but she looked tired, like she was one wrong move away from tearing them all apart and taking Michael away from them on her own.

Life would die before that happened. They probably weren’t getting out of here alive anyway, and they had lived a very long time. They could at least die protecting a child from whatever monster that was standing in front of them all.

And Life liked to think they would have, too, if a hand hadn’t grabbed theirs and scared the absolute shit out of them.

Their mouth was open to say words they wouldn’t be able to get out when they looked over at Death to find Michael, standing up, staring at the family across them, awkwardly holding Life’s hand with the cane.

Life’s mouth was still open when Michael’s other hand found Death’s, and he met the eyes of the woman—the mother—in front of them and spat at her.

They only had time to watch her open her mouth in anger before they were gone.

Prev.

in case you havent figured it out by now, im putting a story that i wrote and then didn't look at for four years up on here on my writing blog @littlesentences every saturday, with snippets on wednesday and friday. its called how to be human and i'll link the blurb here. under the cut of the blurb are links to all parts that are out.

and so begins the very first draft bullshit.

There was definitely something wrong with Michael, and it was more than the fact that he refused to acknowledge his death until it was staring him in the face.

Death almost believed it had something to do with how the amusement park seemed to be falling apart at its seams. But that did not explain the way Michael’s shoulders were slumped, or the way he was staring dejectedly at his hands.

True, death was never easy to come to terms with when you had been avoiding it for ten years, but the last time Death had seen Michael he had looked more angry than anything else.

They stood and took a few steps back.

It could have been a delayed reaction to the fall—they had hit their head pretty hard—but Death had trusted their eyes for too long to stop now. Beside, if it was, then everything else would look a little bit more sadder too. And as far as they could tell, Life was still their clueless, not sad self.

Whipping their head around, trying to keep track of all the sounds around them, was doing no good to anyone, so Death stopped and sat in the middle of the walkway, further from Life. Death hadn’t seen them turn the corner, but if they had stumbled or had a ringing in their ears, they would have heard about it by now.

When the explosion had sent Death and Life flying through the air, Death had landed at the front of the amusement park, head cracking against the corner of a turnstile.

They had been completely alone, at the beginning of the amusement park, with only two other people for company who were half an amusement park away and dealing with their own problems. Death had not been able to afford to faint, but they had thrown up. It had been a while since they had thrown up and the feeling did not sit well with them.

Neither did the feeling of the pressure in their ears when they were already ringing.

They had sat there for about a minute, head throbbing, throat burning, ears screaming, hanging over their vomit in case there was more, not looking up and beyond the turnstiles to see who was waiting for them there, when they thought of Michael.

Who knew what he would do when he was alone, still dealing with being told he had a few days left to live. He really should have faced it when he was hit by a car, but it wasn’t Death’s place to tell anybody what to do. Anyway, they hadn’t allowed their thoughts to get too far away. At the moment, Michael was not an issue.

Unlike the people standing on the other side of the turnstiles, clearly waiting for something.

Death didn’t look at them as they tried standing up, though.

It was sloppy, and they had had to use the turnstile they had banged their head on. Despite their body screaming in pain, Death managed to get to their feet, and touched the back of their head. Their touch had only been light, but that hadn’t stopped the sharp pain when they found where they had hit their head.

They had pulled their hand away to find blood on their fingers. They hadn’t thought they had hit their head that hard.

It was then that one of the people behind the turnstiles decided to speak. Death did not look at her as she spoke, not wanting to undergo another costume change after knowing her eyes were on them.

“Tell him we’re ready when he is.”

With their feet kind of steady beneath them, Death had pushed off from the turnstile, with no intention of telling Michael a damn thing. It was likely they could they could have been running to where they had left him, but Death didn’t think so. They were stumbling too much, and their body would have been screaming far more.

The further they got from the turnstiles, the easier it was to pick out the ringing in their ears. They thought the stumbling could have just been what they thought people did when they hit their head hard enough to bleed. But any effort to stop it ended uselessly, and Death knew Michael would have thought they had lost their mind if his eyes had been open when Death had rounded the corner.

And maybe they had. Death hadn’t heard the rollercoaster collapsing until Michael had opened his eyes.

Too scared to move their head, Death watched his every move.

They had spent many, many years listening to people comfort the dead and dying, so they had known what to say. They just didn’t know if it was their words that had put the slump in his shoulders and the sad look in his eyes.

Distantly, they head Life trying to get Michael to speak, while they looked at their fingertips, stained with blood. Not wanting to ask Michael’s subconscious for a mirror—who knew what it would be like—they touched their hadn’t to their head again. It still hurt, but this time they also felt the dried blood in their hair, and heard something else collapse further into the park.

Death could only hope the colour did something to hide it. The wound had stopped bleeding, but that would not stop Life from freaking out.

Hand on the ground beside them, they heard something else crash in the park. His eyes might have been open now, but Michael was clearly still struggling with the thought of his death. And he was going to bring them all down with him if it kept going like this.

Slowly, Death slid closer to Michael, seeing more than feeling Life lean away as it got closer, until they were sitting next to him, far enough away that touching wouldn’t be a problem. They thought they could see the parts of the park that were coming down when they followed his eyes. “What are you looking at, Michael?”

Death had no idea if this was a good idea, or if it would make the amusement park collapse faster, but they had no other ideas, and getting Michael to come to terms with death would be useful.

“Michael?”

At the sound of his name, he jumped. “What?”

“What are you looking at?”

They heard him breathing, and Life sitting down on his other side, and something behind them all coming down. “I don’t know.”

In some conversations, they had found that it was best to let the silence take over the room and allow people to think their thoughts before more questions were asked. It let souls know that someone would listen to them no matter how long it took for them to turn their thoughts into words.

It was what most people wanted, despite not being exactly in their job description. The decision they would make with Death as the only witness would last, and everyone deserved to be thinking properly when they made it. And Death was the only person around to calm them down.

In this silence, though, Death only heard the amusement park coming down around them, and getting closer and closer.

Gently, as though these were his last moments, Death asked, “Are you scared?”

It was a long time before Michael answered, “Yes.”

Death smiled softly. “There isn’t anything to be afraid of, unless you were a horrible person.”

Just as they said that, a crash came almost directly to their right.

No matter how badly the soul wanted to know what would come after, it was one thing Death would never tell them. Even if it wouldn’t matter. There was always the chance they would go back to life and spread the forbidden information. So Death never gave anything obvious away, but hints were allowed.

The soul might not even pick up on the hint, and even if they did, it was only a hint. There was nothing sure about a hint.

Staring at the horizon, Death missed the rollercoaster where it had hung unfinished. They could just see the lumps of it where it had landed, and if they tilted their head, they could see the ruins of other rides that were slowly collapsing.

“But what if I was a horrible person?”

Death was glad none of them were getting out of this alive. “Your childhood doesn’t count, and neither does this.”

Michael was quiet as he worked it out, and the faint sounds of the amusement park collapsing seemed to get quieter too.

On his other side, Life stared at the ride in front of them—the cracks going up and down on the sign and the walls, the cracks on the ground wider than the last time Death had seen them. Death thought that one good push would send it tumbling to the ground like the ones behind it.

“So I’m a blank slate.”

Michael’s voice had come from nowhere, and Death flinched.

Not wanting to say anything else that could be taken as a yes or no, Death shrugged. “Maybe.”

Michael breathed out and the ground rumbled. Death put their hands flat to either side of them and felt their heartbeat get faster in their throat. The cracks on the ride in front of them grew, and metal groaned too close.

But there was nothing else Death could say. Their bosses were watching—had probably been watching since they had been sucked into Michael’s subconscious—and even though Death wasn’t getting out of here alive, they did not want to have broken the rules when they walked through the door.

The ground didn’t stop rumbling, and chunks from the edge of the roof from the ride in front of them were falling to the ground. Behind them were the same sounds of destruction, slowly getting faster and faster as the ground refused to stop shaking.

Surprisingly, it was Life that spoke up first. “Michael, is there anywhere we can go that isn’t here?”

“What?”

Death took over before Life could ask nicely again. “Is there anywhere else we can go?”

Confused, Michael looked at Death, and Death took their hands off the ground to point them at the rides crumbling to nothing around them.

Like it was for the first time, Michael followed Death’s arms with his eyes, looking at the ride in front of them, and the one behind them, then standing up and looking around at the rest of the park they couldn’t see, like he could finally hear the destruction. If Death hadn’t been watching him closely, they wouldn’t have seen him shaking.

“No, no.” He was shaking his head, like that would make it any better. “It’s fine, we can fix it. It’s fine.”

Death stood up and got to where he couldn’t look away from them. “It is falling down round us. And I am not staying here to watch it.”

He was still shaking his head, muttering ‘no’ over and over again. Which, as far as Death could tell, was only making the park fall apart faster. They supposed the fastest way to make someone destroy their work was to make them watch it be destroyed.

Almost too quietly for them to catch it, Michael muttered, “We can’t leave.”

He didn’t stop muttering after that, but Death still said, “We’re gonna have to,” as loud as they could.

Michael shut up and looked at Death. “Nowhere else—”

If something hadn’t fallen into Michael’s general area, and Death knocked him to ground with their own body, they might have found out what he was going to say. Instead, Michael was thrashing before they even hit the ground, and by the time his head cracked on the cracked ground, he was screeching in Death’s ear.

All they could hear were the words, “GET OF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME GET OFF ME!”

They felt Michael’s knees where knees should never go. And his feet, and his elbows, and they were pretty sure he bit their ear, though they’d need a mirror to check that.

Michael was still screaming at them to get off him, and there was nothing Death wanted more, but when someone was thrashing under you, it was a bit hard to push yourself up.

After far too long, Death managed to grab his shoulders and held them still long enough to push themself up and off Michael. They may have slammed him against the ground as they did it, but after what Michael had done to them, it was the least they could do.

Pulling their dress and cape back into order, Death looked around.

The roof of the ride in front of them had met the ground—and the ground had tried swallowing it—the ride behind them was nothing but rubble, and part of it had been what had come at Michael. The walkway had holes in it, leading to the same place they had found the bell, and Death looked at Life, still sitting on the ground like nothing was wrong.

Life probably wouldn’t stand up until they had to. And Michael was still lying on the ground, staring up into the sky as his prize possession crumbled into nothing because he couldn’t handle the thought of dying. Death knew better than to be offended.

Looking at Life, Death said, “Grab him.”

And Michael clearly heard that, because seconds before Life grabbed his shoulders—cane on their lap—he started screaming again. Death knelt down and grabbed his ankles, keeping him from kicking them in the face and hoped that whatever ran Michael’s subconscious was stronger than whatever Michael’s conscious voice was saying.

“Get us out of here.”

Prev.

Life probably should have thought it through, especially because it didn’t work.

Flying backwards through the air, their sole focus was holding onto their cane. They wouldn’t last a minute without it, and the weight had become a comfort in their hands. Life knew better than to wrap themself around it, though. It would only cause problems when they landed—not to mention that it took everything they had to just hold onto it.

With a clang they felt through their whole body, they hit something metal, and then slid to the ground, landing on that with a thud. Life figured that they would have felt that everywhere too if they hadn’t been kind of numb with pain.

There had been no time to prepare to land, or even think that their hands would open on automatically with impact. They didn’t even know if there was a proper way to land when you were landing in a heap of metal.

The longer Life sat there, too afraid to move, they were sure they had heard a few cracks when they had hit whatever it was they were sitting in the ruins of.

How gravity was even a thing in Michael’s subconscious baffled Life. It made sense that eight-year-olds knew about gravity, but if they knew about it, then they surely wanted to know what it was like without it. But as Life slowly became aware of the pains in their body, they told themself that Michael had been here for ten years.

The novelty of zero-gravity would have worn off a long time ago.

Their cane had landed a bit to their right, and the only body part that didn’t hurt too bad were their fingers. Groaning and fumbling in pain as they moved their arm, Life grabbed it and dragged it back to them. If they ever wanted to do anything again, they were going to need it.

Cane resting on their legs, Life finally allowed themself to think about getting up—just the thought made them cringe. Their bones had hurt enough without the help of a very long fall.

Staring blankly into the distance, Life decided that waiting would not help anything, nor would it make the pain easier to handle. Whenever they chose to move next, it was going to hurt.

As a test, Life shifted, confirming that, yes, everything hurt, and that, yes, moving unassisted was a bad idea.

Their first challenge was getting control of their breathing, which took longer than they would ever admit. Then they waited until they believed the pain would be bearable, deciding not to sit on the ground and wait for one of the other people in Michael’s subconscious to find them.

Holding onto the bottom of their cane, they stood it up beside them and took deep breaths. Life did not expect to stand up the first time, or even the second, but they had to stand up.

Their first attempt ended not long after they bent their legs. Life hadn’t expected it to hurt so much, but they should have known better after reaching for their cane. And it wasn’t the type of pain that would go away, they would only get used to it the longer they stayed there, so Life looked at the sky and waited.

Once they could convince themself they could stand, Life waited a few more seconds before tightening the grip on their cane and trying again.

That time, they got their feet under them, and that was about as far as they got.

It was hard work, standing up, and Life couldn’t help but be jealous of Death. Twelve was a much better ago to flinging yourself around than however old Life’s body was.

Balancing on the balls of their feet, getting used to the pain once more, Life brought their cane around in front of them for a better grip. Even that caused them a bit of pain—Life decided they would not be able to move again without being in pain.

With one final push of their legs—and a cry they would never admit to—Life stood.

It hurt more than it should, but at least they were up.

Getting used to the pain of standing, Life took in where they were. They had never been to this part of the park before, and didn’t think Michael had either.

The only sign of life—apart from Life—was in the weeds. They were sneaking through fences and spreading across the concrete, with the cracks in the concrete only growing more. It was a wonder whatever Life had landed on had been metal enough to crash. Not even the fence posts had fallen over thanks to the weeds keeping them up.

Looking around, Life couldn’t help but think this would always happen. That no matter what, nature would be the last one standing and take everything back, even in an eight-year-old’s subconscious. Life allowed themself a small smile.

To their left and right stood food stalls—answering the question of what they had crashed into—left alone by the weeds, but covered in rust. Looking down at the ruined metal that had been under them, Life wondered if immortal beings could get infections.

After every second stall was a bench Life wouldn’t sit on no matter how sore their legs were, immortal or not. And further to their right was a crossroads so overrun with weeds Life would probably choose the easiest path to walk.

All around, at different heights, were pillars for the rollercoaster, with weeds climbing on top of each other as they choked them. The parts of the actual rollercoaster were nowhere to be seen, probably lost in the weeds on the ground, and Life could see how it would have been.

Groups of people buying food from the stalls, sitting or standing as they ate and talked, pausing to watch the rollercoaster speed past above and around them, the grass an almost unnatural green, laughter carrying on the wind with the scream of children drowned out by those in the rollercoaster. The smell of food cooking on the wind mixing with sugar. A day that could last a lifetime.

It was the first time Life had truly appreciated the extent of Michael’s imagination. He was only eight, and he had thought of everything here.

And for once, Life did not think of the pitfalls of humanity before the wonders. For once, they saw the beauty in everything—the weeds taking over everything in their path, the strength of the still-standing rollercoaster pillars, how this walkway could be. For once, Life saw themself in everything around them.

Confident enough to turn, they faced the food stall they had crashed into. It was rusty and their body’s blood was on some of the metal. But they had been in many places with diseases as Life and they had been fine. They saw no reason why it should affect them now. Besides, they could already feel the cuts on their back healing, and it’s not like Life would be doing anything to fling themself through the air again.

Life turned to crossroads and took a step forward.

If they weren’t so curious about it, they wouldn’t have had any idea what way to walk. They took another step. They could have asked Michael’s subconscious for a map, but they had found that they liked doing things by themself too much to give it up.

Another step made them aware of the pain they were in, but Life—who could have easily asked for help—only took another step. With no complaining. The only sign of their pain was their sharp inhales with each step.

Slowly, Life reached the crossroads. Every five steps, they gave themself a break, despite their body demanding one every four. They thought it might help to get it that extra step, so they could get back to normal by the time they found someone else.

And by the time they reached the crossroads, their body wasn’t nearly so insistent on stopping after four steps.

Life treated the weeds with respect as they walked to the nearest corner post to lean on it, just for a little bit. The post didn’t look too stable, dark with age and rot, the weeds the only things holding it up. It was a good thing Life was trusting the weeds, then. There was something so alive about them, Life couldn’t help but trust them.

Looking back the way they came, they were surprised they hadn’t tripped and fallen with each step. Weeds were everywhere, looking almost impossible to walk on without tripping, but Life remembered the sound of thew weeds being crushed under their feet. It appeared they were better at walking than they thought.

They stood taller when they pushed themself off their post and turned left, walking six steps at a time.

They were twelve steps in when the sound of creaking filled the air. It was the very specific sound of metal swaying in the wind that they heard too much. And, as usual, there wasn’t any wind.

Life looked to the closest rollercoaster pillar—in the garden to their right, overrun with weeds like everything else—to see it swaying, creaking dangerously with each slow movement.

There was no reason for it to be swaying, nothing obvious to cause the rollercoaster to be suddenly unstable. Michael always made sure of it—but the last time Life had seen Michael, he had still been dealing with being told he was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

The rollercoaster swayed and Life’s heart rate picked up. It just occurred to them that they were in the middle of nowhere, and a very large piece of metal was swaying right next to them. There would be no one around to hear Life scream.

They didn’t stop after the next six steps, breathing through the pain so they couldn’t hear the creaking. Life was walking as fast as they could, hoping that the next corner would be familiar. And they liked to think they would have been getting somewhere if the creaking didn’t seem to be following them.

Which was never a good thing when you wanted to outrun something.

Life could not force themself to walk any faster, only making them panic more, which their steps worse. They wondered if stopping would make it all better, but the thought was redundant. They couldn’t stop. Not if they didn’t want to be crushed under a large metal pillar. Sure, they couldn’t actually die, but it would not be comfortable.

As they moved, it was impossible to tell if Life was getting closer to everyone else. It all looked the same—the weeds, the rides, the rollercoaster, the food stalls popping up here and there. They only had their inner compass and that hadn’t been used since before Life was Life, and had probably become a bit rusty.

They continued going straight. With any luck, it would take them to somewhere that looked familiar.

The path curved, and Life was in the middle of thinking about how useless that was when they saw the entrance to the rollercoaster. Life stopped in their tracks.

Obviously, the rollercoaster had to start somewhere, but there was something seeing the sign announcing ‘The Greatest Rollercoaster To Have Ever Been Made’ that felt fake. Almost like knowing the beginning of the human race. For the rest of the time, you know that exists, that there is a place where people get on and off, but it’s so far away from everything else around you that you forget about it.

Almost, it felt like Michael’s subconscious was telling Life that the rollercoaster was not just for decoration—it is not a thing that had always been around. There is a beginning and an end. It was made, and can be unmade.

And that might have been what made Life run. Or might have been the unmistakable sound of metal crashing to the ground.

All thoughts of pain, injury, and working rollercoasters left Life’s head as they focused on moving. There was no room for anything else as they ran along the curving path. They didn’t even think about what it might have been curving around. The crashing might catch up to them.

Life reached a walkway that, finally, looked familiar. In the way that a place you were flung from with a lot of force is familiar.

Far from safe from the rollercoaster and being forgotten out in the middle of the park, Life stopped in the middle of the walkway, hands on their knees, and struggled to catch their breath. Somehow, they had managed to keep their cane in their hands, and it was now lying on the ground in front of them. Staring at it, Life wanted to be able to lie down on the floor and be able to get back up so easily.

They didn’t think they would get up if they had lied down.

Their body screamed at them as they bent to pick it up and went back to walking, calmly, to where they had left Michael. Their body screamed at that too—begging for them to stop for an hour, a week, a year—but Life paid it no attention.

They were still nowhere near anyone else in Michael’s subconscious, but that didn’t mean they had to rush now that they knew where they were. That didn’t mean they had to show everyone just how scared they had been.

The soft sound of words flowed over the noise of the rollercoaster falling to the ground—now louder than ever. It was lost on Life who it could be, because the voice sounded nothing like Michael, and Death—so damn pink—had also been thrown further into the amusement park. It was possible that Michael may have given life to a fragment of his imagination, but thinking about that made Life think of the people they had found deep in his subconscious.

One corner away from Michael—hopefully—the rollercoaster was in the final stages of collapsing, drowning out the soft words, but Life was no longer scared. They were close enough now that someone would find them rather quickly when they went looking if anything happened. Someone would hear them scream.

Life turned the corner to find rage unmatched by any other eight-year-old melting off Michael’s face as Death spoke to them. Once again, Life stopped in their tracks.

They could nothing but stare at the strange scene in front of them until Death found their eyes and gestured for them to come. Slowly, Life did as they were told.

As Life approached, they realised Death wasn’t actually saying anything—anymore, anyway. They were just sitting there, a little too close to Michael to have no effect. Life did the same, trying not to groan as they sat, knowing it would take far too much energy for them to get up again.

Life did not know how long they sat there—it was hard to tell time when there were no clocks, and the sky was not a sky—but the sound of the rollercoaster collapsing faded as Michael’s face cleared and he opened his eyes, and his shoulders slumped.

Prev.

Though Death had arranged their face into a picture of perfect calm, they could not stop the chaos inside their mind.

If their subconscious was anything like Michael’s, they supposed it would be in a state of disaster—fires everywhere, people screaming, houses gone, apartment buildings toppled, skyscrapers cut in half. Death even liked to think they were so good at hiding it no one would be able to tell unless they looked too closely at their eyes. Or their knuckles.

It took more energy than they would care to admit to stay even barely focused on Michael. He wasn’t doing anything at the moment, but that could change at the drop of a hat. Shock lasted different amounts of time for different people.

Out of the corner of their eye, Life froze as the realisation hit them, too, and Michael still hadn’t done anything.

If there was anyone watching, it would be a creepy sight—three people staring into nothing, not moving, barely breathing, lost in the panic of their minds. But they were in Michael’s mind—it was only a matter of time before his subconscious was torn to pieces.

Slowly, a look of rage and disbelief took over Michael’s face—slow enough Death didn’t notice it until the change had already happened. They risked a look to Life, and found them also breaking down, though probably for different but related reasons.

Unlike Death and Life, Michael had no way out of his fate, and from the look on his face, he had clearly never thought his death was right around the corner. Despite knowing better, Death took pity on him before quickly looking away. Who knew what pity would do to him?

Besides, if nothing changed soon, Death and Life would also have no way out.

They walked over to Life, still sitting on the edge of their seat, and sat beside them, swallowing their own fear and panic down to where no light would ever find it. Someone had to be functional. Someone had to at least look like they weren’t on the edge of a cliff, about to fall.

Life looked at them, panic in their eyes.

They knew Life was less human than them, but in that moment, Life seemed too human—awareness of death could do that. But Death had no doubt that Life had always been aware of it, just in a … vague way you knew about something that would never touch you. From their eyes, Death guessed it had hit them that they would die if nothing went according to plan.

And it wasn’t like they had one of those, either.

Life flicked their eyes to Michael, seeing him for the first time if Death had to guess. They followed their line of sight to see Michael, now standing, but no less still. His face had barely changed, his hands were still clenched at his sides. He was going to explode, the only question was when.

“We should try to find a way out of here,” Life said, still looking at Michael, who was looking at nothing.

Death, who had succeeded in shoving their panic down and keeping it there, looked back to Life for a moment. “At least we have a way out.”

Their eyes back on Michael, they felt Life look at them.

It might have been their imagination, but Death could have sworn Michael’s face was angrier than the last time they had looked at him. Death watched cautiously, knowing Michael would feel their eyes on him, knowing it might just be enough to make him explode. But the sooner the better, and if he exploded with Death and Life watching, even better.

Death had been around enough people who wanted to rip their own skin off they knew how to stop it. They also knew the general tells of grief—of losing your life—that they knew what Michael was thinking, or close enough.

“I thought you didn’t care,” Life said.

“I’ve been dealing with it for a long, long time,” Death replied, quietly, hoping Life understood everything they hadn’t said.

They knew they were too numb when it came to death, it came with lifetimes upon lifetimes of dealing with it. They knew that the only people who didn’t freak out when they died were the ones who were ready to go. They knew the best way to greet all souls was with compassionate neutrality.

But when they were children—especially when they had spent a significant amount of time together—they only needed compassion. The only kids who didn’t cry were the ones who knew it had been coming. And they should have known better for the entire time they had been here.

Death looked down at their hands, too close to Life’s legs. They slid away a bit, putting space between them, easing some of the tension between them. That close, it had almost become a living thing.

Sometimes, when Death had been bored before all of this, they had thought about appearing beside Life, just to feel something. The thought of it made their heart race—even now—and used to be one of the only times they had felt mildly human. Humanity, though, would never grow as numb to death as it had.

In an unnecessary rush, Life stood, eyes on Michael, and announced, “We’re going to try to find a way out.”

This surprised Death. They would have been more surprised than Michael, if Michael had shown any sort of reaction. “We are?”

Life gave Death a look that made them sit up straighter.

It felt wrong, like having confidence in themself went against a rule of the universe, and for the briefest moment, they allowed themself to think ill of their bosses. Who, in their right mind, would make human Death, and then force them to be completely neutral on the subject?

Death shook the thought off and stood, hands in fists in the pockets of their dress.

With surprising direction, Life walked off and Death trailed behind them, unwilling to leave Michael alone, knowing it could have been the exact thing he was waiting for. But leaving would be the only way to ensure he would have someone there for him at the end of the week. Death sped up after Life.

They were still far enough away that when life stopped suddenly, they didn’t run into their back and end whatever this was. They did catch up, though. Life may have been in an old body, but with that cane, they were not slow.

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Death said when they were close enough.

Life didn’t look at them, feeling the pressure between them and knowing where they were. “Why?”

“I would have run into you if I wasn’t so far away.”

Life shrugged, and Death raised their eyebrows. They came to two ideas: Life was too focused on leaving Michael’s subconscious to care, or they had decided their bosses had been lying when they said bad things would happen if they touched.

Their bosses were a lot of things, but they weren’t liars.

Besides, touching was always on their mind, exactly because they couldn’t, and it seemed just as important as leaving Michael’s subconscious in time.

Death, realising Life wasn’t going to start explaining anything soon, asked slowly, “So, what are we doing here?”

They were solidly in the ruined part of the amusement park. The rollercoaster track that ran through the whole thing was not there, and Death would have assumed it skipped this part if it weren’t for the rods that were seemingly there to hold it up over everyone’s heads. The concrete was cracked and overflowing with dead weeds that were starting to wind around what was left of the fences. The rides around them were more suggestions, like the benches on either side of them.

Anything that was metal was rusted to hell and back, and what might have been the front of a shop looked more like the remains of a war zone. The sight sent chills down Death’s spine.

Death wanted out of Michael’s subconscious, but not if the way out was somewhere around here. What had made Michael think creating an amusement park this ruined was a good idea? Death couldn’t even tell what part of the park this was supposed to be.

Life chose then to answer their question. “Trying to find something.”

Death looked at them—their slumped shoulders, the frown pulling down their wrinkles, the tired almost careless way they held their cane when they weren’t using it—and didn’t laugh. It was almost strange how they had never thought the body’s age would wear Life down to actually feeling it. Death was glad they were in the body of a twelve-year-old.

“Well I’m not touching anything here.” Finding something here that would get them out of Michael’s subconscious was laughable anyway. “I, personally, do not want to get a deadly infection.”

Life looked at them, confusion wiping away the weariness. “How would you get an infection?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that I’m scared I’ll get something just by standing here, breathing it all in.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

Yes.

No.

They shrugged. Their one idea wouldn’t end well for anyone involved—they didn’t want to do it, and it wasn’t ‘better’. In fact, it was a lot worse. It fed off their fear that there was no way out of Michael’s subconscious for them.

They clenched their hands. “Maybe, because we got ourselves into this mess, we have to get ourselves out of it.”

It was as close to what they were thinking as Death was willing to get. They watched Life closely enough after they said it, that they could see the moment their eyes flicked to their hands but their sides. Any hope for Life not figuring it out washed away.

Slowly, Life said, “We could recreate the situation that got us here?”

Death looked at them. It seemed the consequences of touching had caught up with Life again, and where Death didn’t want to touch Life, Life wanted it even less. Death nodded.

The worst that could happen was that they ended up impaled on a rusted piece of the amusement park, and they couldn’t die like that. It would hurt though. A lot. But the pain might just take their mind off their impending doom.

All of a sudden Death knew why humans did stupid shit that would get then killed. They were going to die anyway, so why not?

They watched Life take a position further down the walkway, leaning heavily on their cane, preparing for the power they would be using. Death closed their eyes, breathing, bracing their body for being thrown halfway across the amusement park—and the power they would be using.

Distantly, they already regretted their decision. But this was all they had.

Staring into each other’s eyes, it only took a few seconds before their aura’s were visible, and a few more before they were growing at a rapid speed. Death barely had time to see how close they were before they met.

It was a feeling of weightlessness they had only felt once before, but as the amusement park rushed below them, they knew it hadn’t worked. They succumbed to the fall and eventual landing.

Prev.