Assisted

by Blue_Notebook

 

I am not Death. Only its assistant.
My master has bequeathed me a task beyond measure. They who were left behind the darkness envied me due to his task. And with a wider grin, I descended to the human world, spiralling down to one of the chambers of a house.

It’s not that pleasant to be covered in ashes as I walk my way out of the fireplace towards one of the doors upstairs, decorated with stickers of guns and knives with a message saying, “DO NOT ENTER, BITCH. OR DIE!” But I’m the assistant of death so, no can do. I turned the knob and entered.

The room is dark with a little source of light coming from the device this human being holds as he lay in bed, not motionless I presume for there is this quite irritated chaos underneath his blanket. As if there’s a lot of static air in there, and he too is breathing differently.

This is a very rare thing to witness as a newly appointed assistant, so I crept closer behind him and slouched to his neck-level and see for myself what he’s doing on that phone of his. “Oh, just regular MILF porn. And he’s jerking off of it.” I said to myself as I began to detest the man for his taste. For why watch something carnal to satiate desire albeit the fact that their genitals are blurred? Typical Japanese. “Come on. Watch BDSM or some real rape scenario from these sites.” I wish to tell him but he cannot hear my voice unless it is meant to fulfil my purpose of being here.

His hands stopped with a loud “Ahhh.” after it. He then began to roll over his bed and set aside his phone.

It’s time.

The boy turned to my direction and almost went pale to see a genderless thing like me. It’s all etched in his face, the question of my identity.

Truth is, I am extremely shy and is an extreme misanthrope so, I really do not know how to even start a conversation with him.

“Hi, human.” is all that I have managed to say as I wave my decaying hand in a “friendly” manner.

Due to the fear I’ve induced to him, he scooted further away from me, reaching for his knife, which is all I wanted.

“Nice knife. What for?”

“Who—who are you?”

“Skip the damned introductions, shall we? Come, let me have a nicer view of your method— oh, weapon.”

But it is indeed his method. He posted it on Facebook lately that’s why I was sent here by Death to assist him. Slashing one’s wrist isn’t always that easy. With help, it will sound like it is.

“What?”

“What what? Consider me a friend who will assist you in your… how do you put it… catching the fake fucking bus with your cum in hand.”

“The fuck man! I am—”

“Oh, balls. I am not a man. Nor a woman. And certainly not a hermaphrodite or someone who have no genitals at all.” Which is true. Because my kind can also masturbate and have sex and orgasms. All that we need to do is to accomplish our jobs without a problem and see to it that the soul we have gathered will be robbed of sexuality all along with their other features. And they must do the same if they want a body.

We need to hunt for some of his kind. It is proven to be the most long-lasting bodies to decay. Mine’s of a kid who killed herself the other day by cutting her radial artery. And it’s starting to decay, the boobs fell off and the pussy full of maggots. Not that necessary for kinks.

“Get out! I’ll call the cops!”

“The feds? And what? Get yourself some help? What about the post? Don’t you not want to be embarrassed?”

“Post?” he seemed to think for a while, the edge of his knife pointed harshly at me. Of course, I can see through the dark. “Are— are you Death?”

“What? No. He’s my master. I am but a mere apprentice to the cause.” I said with a frown. “Onwards to the matter, shall we?”

He was so stupefied to even notice me walking and standing so near him to grab his right hand that holds the knife.

With confidence, I reached to lick his left lobe and whispered,

“Say, aren’t you a miserable boy who craves for attention like a whore craves for a dick? Come, come, you are nothing. Made to be insufficient and useless.

“Even your parents discard you, even your lover left you. What more is there for you to keep on living, eh? These endless coveting for… something as surreal as imagining that you’re fucking someone as good as those girls in porn? Or the constant wishing that you are on top, living as an elite member of your…” I paused for an effect. “society?”

My hands began to trace his fat and soft skin, tugging on his arms as I do so. “I— I am not—”

“Oh, you are. You frequently enjoy attention at your school, buying stuff that you think could impress them and make them envy you. The crowd you chose to, hmmm, how do I put it, “hang-out” with (?), is not beyond doubt the most prominent humans in the campus. And you enjoy it, the spotlight they carry. Because somehow, you also get the bit of it. Which, I might say, is stupid.” he whimpered and screamed as I pinch his nipples roughly.

“Please! Please! Release me!” it sounds theatrical. As if scripted. Perhaps his long days of leeching off the television have prompted this kind of adaptation where, his insufferable mind, began to take in those questionable responses as a fact and as real. When in reality, they are just as fake as his will to die.

The thought only contributed wood to the fiery rage within me. Of course, no matter how he twitches his body to get away from me, he can’t shrug me off. I am as good as a dark smoke, visible but untouchable.

A few moments ago, I was already thinking of releasing him— his tit— for my kink was already satiated. But he irritated me. The fact that he lied to me about having him released. He sure likes it. To the point where in the back of his head, he’s begging for me to intensify the pain which he believes he needs rather than deserve.

I only but did what he wanted out of annoyance. With one last twitch and hard pinch, a gushing sound of some odd liquid occupied my hearing. He then kneeled on the floor the moment I released him, clutching in his crotch with disdain and embarrassment etched on his face.

“How was it? Satisfied?” Huskiness filled my voice for it is what I willed it to be.

The boy shuddered due to my whisper and to the amount of air I puffed on his left ear. Clearly, he is turned on by this. Goosebumps have erupted from his neck and from his arms. He craves for it after his long hours of spending time in MILF porno. So boring.

“Y—ye–,” suddenly his eyes bulged at the thought of him surrendering, making him change his reaction. “No! Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”

Time for the ultimate bomb, I presume.

“Check your timeline, your e-mails. Now.”

With great hesitation, he reached for his phone and opened his accounts where his shocked and bereaved expression become mixed.

His emails consist of humans telling him “You can’t kill yourself.”, “Prove it, boy! Haha!”, “Can you record it online?”, “Fuck off, attention seeker”, “Alright, die then, you asshole,” I say it’s the price of wanting too much more than what one already has.

“But I just want them to notice me.” It’s almost a whisper. I peeked at the screen of his phone and saw for myself the number of “haha-reacts” seconded by the number of likes and ended in a dozen “angry-reacts”. There are but a few who clicked the sad button and that made him mad. To the point where his hand trembled as it took hold of the knife with great insanity.

I stood up as he did the same and went in front of him, facing his now distorted face. “You are noticed.”

“Not this way! They should pity me! They should tell me things like “Don’t do it!” or something like that! And yet this is what I fucking get?!” emotions have got the best of him as he fumbled for the camera of his phone and set it on the table near him, enough to cover his upper body.

“Do it then. Prove them wrong.”

He positioned his knife first in his wrist, taking it up to his neck where he intended it to stay. “I will fucking prove them wrong. And I hope that this will haunt them—”

“Do it!”

Tears dropped from his eyes as his lips become dry. I know for a fact that he doesn’t want to do it. But once a pact with death, always a pact with death.

His breathing became harsh as he pushed the knife’s edge a bit to his neck, enough to see a small trickle of blood roll out from it.

The video is already recording and there are lots of comments suggesting ways of how he could do it. But most of them are just plain encouragements to push him to his death—

Blood squirted out of his throat as he pushed the knife further and pulled it vertically, opening a larger wound right through his neck. His eyes are wide open in horror and in terror as he gasped— or gargled— for air. Violently, his body shook as life left him— his former body— and began to take form into a genderless and faceless creature before me.

“What— what happened? Who am I?” First questions asked by a newbie.

“Discuss things such as this with Death. Right now, I must collect my harvest.”

I bent down to touch the wound that caused his death. Immediately after I did so, the very same body he once possessed took form into my own’s. Of course, I am still unseen by everyone.

With great haste, I groped at my new body, grinning with delight as I begin to take pace and leave the place.

“H—hrrrp— mmme… mmmm… hhhddd.”

I quickly turned around and saw one of his fingers moved, the soul is gone from sight along with the body I acquired.

The door behind me opened and from there came rushing a group of paramedics, rescuing him.

How? I was so sure he died. He fucking died.

“Dreams can be so unpleasant, right boy?” A figure of my master appeared and flicked his fingers before my eyes.

Before I could even complain about it, a strong amount of pain filled my body. Pain similar to the soul’s. And I can’t help but scream of it at the back of my head, wishing that I am not just an apprentice of death, but death itself. Because it is too painful that I can only ask for mercy in the form of ending my life. Yet I cannot speak about it. I have slashed my throat by all means.

 

Author’s note: Credits to the owner of the photo used.