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The first thing he felt was a light mist on his face, cool and numbing, the second was the phlegm burning its way out of his chest. Hob coughed, and something metallic filled his mouth. He turned onto his side, chest on fire as he hacked and coughed up whatever was trapped in his chest. Every cough sent another wave of fire shooting through his body, burning him from the inside out. he wanted to shout, he wanted to cry, but his tongue failed to work.
Hob waited, face pressed into cold, hard dirt, spitting until his spit was no longer red. Even then, every breath sent another spike of pain through his aching body. With a pathetic wheeze and herculean effort, he pushed himself onto his back. The slight impact knocked out what little breath he had. He e stared up at a light blue sky, watching clouds slowly pass over him. As he lay there, his hands and feet numb with cold the rest of him didn’t feel, he became aware of something else. Silence.
That couldn’t be right. He had been in the middle of a raging battle, him and his friends, their mercenary work was reaching fever pitch, they were winning, that much he remembered, they had been winning, and then-,
Hob shot up, ignorant of the fresh wave of pain, and looked down. His torso was a bloody mess, coated in every shade of red, oozing from the gaping hole over his ribs. Big enough to see torn muscle and glint of bone, he should be dead. He had taken an axe full force to the chest, why wasn’t he dead? As the questions rang through his head, something else caught his eye, something impossible. Slowly, before his eyes, the wound, the hole in his chest that should have killed him. It was fixing itself. The damaged skin was growing, knitting itself together, as effortlessly as when his mother darned his socks. Soon, the only sign of the wound was a jagged, pink scar. It could have been mistaken for a birthmark. Carefully, he ran a dirt covered finger over the the mark. The sensitive skin sent a shiver up his spine. His shirt was in tatters, the smell of his own blood turning his stomach.
Then, as his vision cleared, he spotted the bodies. All around him lay ruined bodies of his friends, now lifeless hunks of meat. Sprawled next to his hip was Gavin, his body ruined, only his face remained untouched, his eyes, once so full of joviality, were now nothing more than two dull pieces of glass. With a shaking hand, Hob reached out, feebly trying to clean his bloodstained hand, and touched his friend's face. his skin was like the untanned leather his father worked with, now tinged with grey. Taking one last look, Hob gently closed his eyes. As Hob sat in the dirt, stained with the blood of friends, his chest and eyes burning, the silence became deafening.
Silence that was soon broken by a gentle cough. Instinctively, Hob sprung to his feet, brandishing his weapon. The attackers were back, no doubt to loot their corpses. Wont they be surprised? Hob grinned deviously, spitting out another mouthful of bloody saliva. Instead of coming face to face with the enemy, there stood a lone woman.
Hob, thrown, could only blink like an idiot. Unfortunately, his legs chose that moment to give out. back to the dirt he went. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but his ribs squeezed painfully. Over his wheezing, he heard soft words aimed at him.
'Are you alright, Hob?'
He looked up to see the kindest pair of brown eyes he would ever see. Crinkling slightly from her soft smile, her beautiful brown skin seemed to shine despite the gloomy light of the morning. Soon, Hob found himself breathless for another reason.
'You should be healed by now,' the woman said, the words didn’t register at first,
'I'm alright, just a bit winded, I think,' he winced at a sudden twinge of his ribs,
'Understandable,' her voice was soft like a gentle breeze but her eyes were sad. It wasn’t a normal pair of sad eyes, they were like twin pools of unfathomable despair, like she held the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Before Hob could ask her what was wrong, the woman turned, bending down to Hob's friend, Gavin, lying with an arrow embedded in his eye. In the blink of an eye, his crumpled form was gone, and he was standing, vibrant and full of life. Strangely spotless, he turned to Hob, shock slowly morphing to glee.
With his legs still weak, Hob could only give a whoop of joy. He opened his arms wide, gesturing for his friend to come forward. Gavin looked at him, then the woman, she gave a small shake of her head. Gavin looked back at Hob, his his smile smaller, and he waved. He was waving goodbye.
Hob tried to call out for him, but the words got stuck. And just like that, he was gone. From a single touch of the woman's hand, he faded from sight. Hob could only stare, his gaze flicking to the body still at the woman's feet. The crumped form of Gavin, bloodied and lifeless. Hob let out a choked sound, edging away as best he could away from the figure. He knew who the woman was now, the cold chill on his neck confirmed it. it was Death.
More and more of his friends rose and vanished; Gavin, Ash, Edmund, John, they were leaving behind their bodies, their shells.
'Why?' Hob breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper, the woman, Death, heard it. She walked towards him, as graceful as a bird in flight.
'I'm sorry, but it was their time, Hob,'
'How…I didn’t give you my name,'
Death smiled, 'No, but I know you. I've known you since the day you were were born. You and your friends,'
'Gavin, Ash, Edmund, John,' her smile dipped, ' I knew them all,'
Anger surged within him at her familiar tone,
'Do you also know their families? Their wives? Do you even care that you're leaving behind widows and orphans, do you even care?!'
The moment the words left his mouth, he felt the blood leaving his face. his big mouth always did get him into trouble, and now, he just gave cheek to Death herself. Hob flinched, waiting for the inevitable, the so-called feeling of cold weightlessness, or for his heart to explode. It never came. He cracked open an eye, Death's smile was gone, but she wasn’t angry, just sad. Her eyes shone with unshed tears,
'I do know them. I know every one of them. since each of them took their first breath, and upon their last, I will be there guide them on, like your friends.'
'And I am sorry, I truly am, but it has to be this way.'
Hob's eyes blurred, he knew deep in his heart the words were true, it didn't make it hurt any less. Then, another thought struck,
'Does-Does that mean I-I'm,' he fearfully glanced down at his hands, waiting for them to fade before his eyes. They still looked solid, and warm. As Death knelt down before him, still wearing that sad smile,
'No, Hob,' she softly said, 'I'm afraid you wont be receiving my gift,' her smile turning mischievous as she spoke,
'I'm sure you'll see that as good news.'
Hob blinked, processing his words,
'So…I won't be dying today?'
Death shook her head, Hob let out a sharp laugh of relief,
'Oh! Thank the gods!'
Death chuckled at his reaction, then, because Hob didn’t know when to shut up, he found himself asking,
'So, when will I die?'
'That's up to you now,'
'What?'
Death just smiled, 'You got your wish.'
'Not until you choose to die, and ask for my gift. Your life is yours to live, for as long as you want.'
Hob just blinked, a flurry of emotions washing over him. Death would leave him alone until he chose when to die? It was his greatest wish come true. A weight he had never been aware of was lifted from his chest.
'Of course,' Death asked, snapping him out of his reverie, 'I could take you now, if you want,'
'No! No, thank you, I'm fine... I-I've got so much to live for,'
Instead of being offended, her smile grew brighter,
'That's good to know,' she got to her feet and turned to leave, before she did, she turned and flashed one last smile,
'Tell him I said hello.'
In the time it took Hob to blink, she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the bodies of his friends. As he got to his feet, a plan formed in his mind. But, first, he had some graves to dig. He'd be damned if he was going to leave his friends to the elements. The second was to figure out what to do for the next 99 years.