Trigger Warning: >!Suicide Note!<
-—
Just before you die, your Life flashes before your eyes. Which is frustrating, because you’d think that it would bother to show up earlier. Waiting until the last moment, then popping out in the nick of time like some hero to save the day – it’s all very melodramatic. Death is much more punctual. In the days before you die, Death strolls.
The first time I saw him was in my bathroom mirror. It was Thursday morning, and I had only slept for three hours. As I threw water onto my face to give it some life, I was met instead with the opposite. Black eyes, darker than a moonless night, stared at me through the mirror.
I blinked, too tired to react, and he was gone.
My gaze fell on the place where the thing had been just a second before. I still felt a presence, like something was watching me just out of sight. But where I looked now, there was only a shower. I looked around the bathroom and saw nothing. I even opened all the cabinets to calm my nerves. Still nothing. My heart was racing from the shock of the moment, but at that point there was nothing to do but carry on the day. I shook away the worry and drove to the office.
The workday started nicely. I was being yelled at.
“I took a look at your portfolio. Why are so many of your clients’ insurance claims successful?” My boss had long given up on pretending that he was anything other than a stereotypical cartoon villain, and we the employees suffered for it. Today, apparently, my crime was processing my clients’ claims, which is the actual literal purpose of my job.
“Sorry boss,” I began idly, “I’ll try to bungle it a bit more next time.”
“It’s not good enough to bungle! You have to delay, and prevent, and mishandle. There is an art to this sort of thing!”
I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. It was too early to be dealing with this bullshit, and with every indignity that my boss hurled at me I was getting angrier. But just as I was about to yell something back to my boss, there he was.
Or rather, there he had been, for just a moment. He was covered in a black shroud and holding a scythe. His face was gaunt and pale, with features mostly masculine, though not wholly, and also frankly not wholly human. At least, that was how I remembered him. Mostly I remembered the eyes.
It wasn’t that they were black, I realized. It was that they were nothing. There were two holes in his face which approximated eye sockets, but in place of eyes to fill them there was a true void. To stare into them was to be sucked into a universe of emptiness, two orbs of oblivion neatly cushioned into a lifeless face. A fraction of a second after I met his gaze, I quickly looked away. When I looked back, he was gone.
It went like that for the rest of the day, and the day after. Sometimes I would look up and see a black shrouded figure watching me, his piercing gaze beckoning my soul to follow his eyes into oblivion. If I looked away long enough or pretended not to notice him, he would disappear. But he would always come back.
On Friday evening, I sat alone at a coffee shop drinking thirty ounces of dark roast when I felt his presence just behind me. I couldn’t see him, but by then I knew what he felt like. I tried to control my breathing, but fear took over. My heart raced and I was panting heavily. I knew deep down that I didn’t have much longer.
“Soon?” I asked without looking behind me.
“Soon.” He confirmed after a moment’s pause. And then he was gone.
I guess that’s it then. When Death tells you that he’s got your number, you don’t dare go to sleep. Back home, I drank a Monster to stay awake and played a video game to pass the time while I waited for the inevitable.
A thought ran across my mind. Not everybody knows when they’re going to go. Not everybody gets the chance to say goodbye. In that sense, Death had shown me a kindness. I pulled out my phone and wrote a quick message.
[I just want you to know that I love you.]
I sent it to everyone that I could think of. My parents, my sister, my girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend (oops), my best friend. Anybody who might care for my passing would get a last message to try to make it a bit more bearable. Satisfied that I had given something approaching closure to everybody who cared about me, I returned to the video game.
“That was very thoughtful.” Said a figure to my right.
I was surprised. I hadn’t felt his presence, so I hadn’t been expecting his voice. But now that I thought about it, I didn’t feel any presence. The room was quiet. Completely, utterly quiet. Even the video game hadn’t been making any sound. So, this was it, then. This time, different from all the others.
“I’m not ready to go.” I said without looking at the figure sitting next to me.
“Most aren’t.”
That was true, probably. But still, I wanted to survive. I was so young, and had done so little, and I wasn’t ready to go yet. I thought desperately for a way out of my predicament, for any memories or knowledge that might help me handle my current situation. And then I remembered a story.
“I… uh… I challenge you to a game!” I spoke.
Death said nothing. After what felt like an eternity, I finally built up the courage to look at him. A frail and shriveled hand had come out from under the shroud and was gesturing to my shelf, where I had stashed a number of board games. “Choose.” He said.
I looked at the options. On the top shelf was the Game of Life. It seemed a bit on-the-nose, so I disregarded it. In the middle was a deck of cards, but I didn’t want to leave my fate to chance, so I discounted that as well. Finally, I looked at the bottom shelf and knew exactly what we were about to play. I pointed to the board, with its 64 squares and 32 assorted black and white figurines arranged on opposite sides.
“A classic.” Said Death as he placed the chess board on my coffee table and gestured to the white pieces. “You go first.”
I moved a pawn. Death did the same. I moved a bishop. Death moved a knight. With every move my heart beat faster as my brain came to terms with what was on the line. We played for hours, and I took longer between each move to try and come up with a plan, a tactic, a winning strategy, anything that would give me more years. Death didn’t seem to mind. I guess he wouldn’t. He was in no hurry. My phone buzzed occasionally, probably somebody responding to my weird text, but I ignored it. I needed to focus.
Occasionally I would go to my fridge and grab another Monster or caffeine pill to stay awake. My heart was already in overdrive, but I was pushing it to the limit in order to survive. The caffeine was helping me to think harder, faster, make moves that would keep me alive for just a little longer. Without them, I would have fallen asleep long ago, and given my company I probably would never have woken up. I took a pawn with my queen, and for the first time that night I felt like maybe I had a chance.
Finally, as the orange hue of pre-dawn light illuminated the world outside my window, Death pushed a rook. “Checkmate.” He said.
My heart raced as I stared at the board. How could this have happened? How did I not see the danger I was in? I looked at the pieces, then at Death, then back at the pieces. Empty eyes watched me, piercing my soul and demanding payment. And then I felt the pressure in my chest.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I couldn’t feel my heart beating any longer, but the pain in my chest was unbearable. Suddenly I was gasping for breath, suddenly my head felt light, suddenly I was on the floor clutching at anything within my reach. My phone was too far away to call 911, and so I lay on the floor while black eyes stood over me and watched. “Good game.” He said.
And as my eyes started to close, there was Life, dancing merrily around me and showing me memories of years past. Very helpful indeed. There was me at five, falling asleep to my father’s bedtime stories. Then me at eight, learning about the food pyramid. Ah, and here was me at twelve, playing a game of chess that looked suspiciously like the one I just finished. Thanks Life, this would have been a great memory to have three minutes ago. I closed my eyes and the world when dark.
The first thing I heard was beeping. It was rhythmic, and coming from a machine. I couldn’t see the machine because my eyes were closed. My eyes. That’s right, I have eyes. I opened them to see a white room and an assortment of medical equipment. A figure in blue hurried about the room, writing things down and rearranging the tools. When he saw that my eyes were open, he called for a doctor. Another figure, this time in white, rushed into the room. “Welcome back.” She said.
“What… What…?” I was trying to say “what happened,” but the doctor probably already knew that and had begun to offer an explanation.
“You had a heart attack. You’re lucky that your mother called an ambulance for you. Apparently, you sent her a worrisome text message and then didn’t answer any of her calls, so she called 911 on your behalf.” The doctor checked my pulse, writing notes into her notebook as she worked. “You should be good to go soon. We’ll work out the payment with your insurance provider. And, well… Try to take it easy from now on.”
After they released me, I hailed a taxi to take me home. I spoke to my mother through the whole ride, assuring her that I was safe and well and that no lasting harm had come to me. It was a bit difficult to explain how I knew to text her before my heart attack, but possibly out of fear for my health she didn’t push too hard.
When I opened the door to my house, I saw a figure sitting on my couch, its black eyes gazing intently at an eight-by-eight board.
“You should have watched your back rank.” Said Death.
I nodded, not sure what else to do. “I lost. Why am I still alive?”
Death took his gaze away from the board and stared at me with empty eyes that served as a window to an empty soul. It was hard to tell, but I could have sworn he was grinning. For just a moment, he glanced at my top shelf.
“There is only one game which matters to me.” He stood up from his seat and met me in the front hallway. “And last night you played an interesting move. I didn’t expect the texts. I… I look forward to seeing what you do next.” He turned and walked away.
His eyes were still empty. A universe of nothing was still contained in two black dots. But it didn’t seem so scary anymore. Maybe because the void was no longer calling me. Whatever the reason, it was warmer now. The threat, the heavy presence that had been with me for the past few days, was gone.
“But you’ll still win in the end.” I called as he strode to my front door.
“Yes.” Said Death without turning back. “In the end. But if you take care of yourself, our game can last a long while yet.”
Death closed the door, and suddenly it was as if he had never been there. The house was quiet, a normal quiet, and I relaxed. I decided that when Death gives life advice, it’s best to listen. I went to sleep.