Biography of a Man Named Death
an excerpt

Time passed, though Death seemed to find it at a stand still as his fate approached. He watched from the Heavens as Adam's hair turned grey and Eve's skin began to slip slightly from her thin body. It was a horrible thing, he decided, that they should suffer something so devastating. As the years flew by, children were born, and the whispering prayers became more frequent. Death watched the pain of child bearing, the harsh panting of breath when one of the humans were going through a rough time. And it made him weep.

He sat on the bend of stars along the Milky Way, his scabby hands attached desperately to his uncloaked head. He made a wish to his Father. A wish to stop the hardships that these people were going through. Their hunger fed only by their will to hunt and kill God's creatures and plants, their thirst only quenched by using the water from their springs and seas.

Michael approached Death, his hands behind his back. He faced forward and stared directly at the brightest star in the sky, a frown formed on his lips. "My brother," Michael spoke solemnly, "why do I always find you lamenting over the fate of the people?"

Death startled, though he could feel the presence of his brother as he approached. "They are damned to a life they never expected," he said in a long breath. "And when that life is ended, they will have me to blame. Or to thank. This confuses me, Michael."

Sitting next to his brother on the large ring of rocks, Michael never glanced back to Death. "It is your duty to lead them where they are meant to go. It is our Fathers word and therefor, it is the law."

"It should not be so!" Death argued, throwing his hands down onto his lap. "This Lucifer, this Devil that you all speak of in the lowest of regard, this is what he would do, is it not? Take the soul from its manifestation and cause this unnaturalness. The pain, the suffering, the loss! Brother, this is not what life was meant to be about, was it?"

"Our Father has made up his mind, Death," Michael answered firmly. "It is not up to you nor I to question his decisions. You must get over this need to feel for the humans and let them choose their own paths. Most will come to us."

"And those that do not?" Death stood on the rock and ducked a piece of debris with a blue flash following it. "Then I condemn them to an eternity of torture and pain with Lucifer!"

Michael glanced up at his brother and sighed. "Your duty is why you were created. It is the same for every angel, no matter how we disagree."

"Then tell me, brother," Death said, a bite in his voice, "what is it that you are bound to do? And why do you not talk about it?"

Michael stood and spread his wings, the white feathers stretched twice the length of his body. "I have told you countless times over the years that my fate is between the Father and myself." And with his final word, Michael flew away, back to Heaven, to a temple where he could sit in solitude as he normally did. A place that Death was not allowed to enter.