Where should I start? Certainly, not from the start. I don't even recall the time when I got here. It has been so long since I have been conscious, I already forgot all about my very own existence. Did I just appear out of nowhere like a thought popping in someone's mind? Or was I already here since the beginning of time? Perhaps time, itself, will be able to tell. But for now, I do not know. I have been existing ever since that I see no difference between days turning into years, or years forming a century or even a millennia. These are just passages of time which I have been wandering in endlessly. Oftentimes, I ask myself: what if the reason for my being here is to tell what actually happened out there? But to whom? People do not live long enough. In general, death is an imminent and an inevitable part of life. However, for the people who are about to die, it is always a scenario of acceptance and moving on to the other side. They al

The black hooded robe made of a thick kind of fabric covers my entire body. It has been torn and shredded by the corners due to the course of time. The hood just suspends over my pitch black face, which I kept hidden and decided to never show it to anyone. In my right hand is my great scythe I fervently grip with my long skeletal fingers. My silvery pale, featherless, sharp wings spanning the length of a hospital room if not folded. Evon's hourglass is now completely empty. Unlike ordinary hourglasses that can be rotated to restart the time, this hourglass doesn't serve the same purpose. Once all sands fall from the upper bulb to the lower bulb, they will vanish. This indicates that time is something that cannot be repeated—that is why it is important to let everyone know that their days are numbered. There are a few people in the hospital at the time which accentuates the echoing cries of Seya. The uneasiness caused by that makes me hover the floor to the exit. As I

I keep on wandering around the world to collect the souls of the dying, humans and nonhumans. As an omnipresent being, I am able to be anywhere at the same time. This helps me cater all souls that venture, souls who could not find their way to the other side. One second, I am somewhere in Asia talking to a woman who will lose her life by choking. Another second and I can be in Europe, dancing with a lady who will eventually get killed in a fire.Being omnipresent, transcending through space and time, does not mean that I am omniscient. I don't have an answer to everything. As eras end and centuries go by, I have learned to adapt to humankind's way of thinking and to behave like them if it fits me. Being exposed to different people with varying knowledge, being able to watch them all throughout is how I get the wisdom I possess. However, emotions, thoughts and intentions, or any other subjective matters are still abstruse and mystifying for me because these things vary from ev

The night watchmen did not even notice the loud thump when she hit the ground due to the northern soul song playing on the radio. Maybe they are preparing to end their shift, and loosening up after a whole night of guarding the establishment. They are different this time. I don't see the ones who were being interviewed the day of the last suicide case, which happened three months ago. They were terminated, obviously. Fortunately, the current guards would not be held liable for an incident without evidence.After walking a distance, the lady stands still at the rear of the building and leans her head on the glass partition. Unlike me, who cannot process everything just yet, she doesn't look like she is a bit bothered after what happened. Like she is already used to it. Like this had already happened before. That does not make any sense at all.She scans the surroundings before making a move. Because of the heightened security, cameras are all over the place. And if that

CHAPTER 8 "Why didn't you ask for more?""Tomorrow, they'll kill me. What's the point of having a feast?""I see. May I join you?""Sure. Have a seat.""Here is your hourglass. The amount of sand on top is your remaining time. Slowly, all the sand will fall indicating the end of your life."In one of the rows of prison cells inside the Lyreace Correctional Facility in Georgia, Colton Thrusue dwells. The four sides of the three and a half square meter cell have been surrounding him for over three years now. The window for ventilation is not present but an exhaust fan on the corner of the ceiling provides proper air flow. The only opening is the detention door that has a vertical rectangular glass which guards use for daily checking. The bed is fixed on the gray wall by the side of the room and is opposite to the sink and toilet.Colton was sentenced to serve the rest of his life waiting on the death row.