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It's not my time, he said.

A WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS THE PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH. AS IN, FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE. ENJOY!

strychnineaxolotl · Horror
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6 Chs

4

Rudi clutched at his chest in a dark alley somewhere in Fellows Residential District. He couldn't believe it! Death was coming, and they were coming for him. Suddenly, a humanoid shape stepped out of the shadows, a black iPhone clutched tight in skeletal hands. "Hello." Death said. "Hello, Rudi."

"Get away from me!" Roared the angry man. He put his arms up as a shield. A completely useless shield. "Rudi, there is a serial killer about. If you head over to Død Street, you should be safe. That is not your way to go." Even as Death uttered the falsified words, they could a fly buzz out of their mouth. Rudi stumbled away, hyper-aware to all the sounds in the area. A baby cried out once. Police shouted. Cars revved. A single gunshot. A maniacal laugh, echoing through tombstone houses and empty, dead streets. Abruptly, a peculiar sensation bloomed in Rudi's chest. He looked down. Red was everywhere. "Oh- oh- I- I've b-been shot!" Those were his last words. Death opened their pouch and stroked the soul. It was sucked in.

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