You may be wondering why I chose to spare the life of Anne Hutcherson. I'm Death. I take and I take, yet all you do is give me your life. I watched the life of Anne Hutcherson.

I was there for it all; her birth, her childhood spent vying for her parent's affection, her marriage to a man who would never really love her, the day she was accused and sentenced to Death. To me.

I took pity on her. Every century, there is always some poor soul who needs my help, and I grant it to them. It was easy to slip into Mildred Scott's old, age wracked body. I casted the immortality spell on her and left, leaving a confused Mildred to a sentencing later on.

She was executed. With every life I save, there must be one who shall take its place.

I also did save the life of Adam, her lover. The men who broke into their home were much too far gone for me to kill, but I swiftly took the life of his old boss Harold, with a heart attack that had come out of nowhere. Death is not a hopeless romantic. I saved Adam's life because the thought of Anne being alone, yet again, tugged a heartstring in my cold, unfeeling, nonexistent soul.

I have been around since Man itself. I've taken billions of lives, yet I can also grant a life back. I took pity upon Ms. Hutcherson that first day that William hit her, and I've been watching them both since. It wasn't an accident, that horse kick that ended in William's brain being kicked in.

Death is also very spiteful.

I sent Claire away to New Jersey, with the late Mr. and Mrs. Almwood. I wanted her to have a chance at happiness, a chance to make the Almwood name great again. She lived to be eighty-four, with twelve children. Her husband went on a trading ship in 1741, and never returned.

I took his life sadly, watching as he vanished into the depths of the Underworld. Claire was devastated over the death of Henry, but took over his shipping company, making a name for herself as a strong, independent business woman.

I was as happy as if she were my own daughter, and when the time came for her to join me, I took her life, reuniting her with Henry.

As for Jia, Anne's old roommate, she finally settled down with a wealthy business man, and happily lived with four children for the rest of her life. When she died of cancer fifty-five years later, I pulled her down into me, and she went willingly.

Her eldest daughter was named Liana.

I still haven't killed Anne and Adam yet. When they're ready, they will come to me. Nobody can live forever, not even the ones I grant life to. When they get tired of being immortal, I tuck them into my black embrace, reuniting them with loved ones they thought they'd never see again.

Death is also compassionate.

I am not a cruel monster like you all think I am. I can be cruel, but there's compassion in my cold embrace. 

Which is why, dear reader, I will wrap up the story of Anne and Adam for you.

They get married in 1910, and live the rest of their lives in that period. Adam fulfills his dream of being an author, and Anne becomes a school teacher. They have a daughter, Miriam, and a son, William. They live in Anne's old house, and fix it up together.

And when they finally decide to join me, they will go together, two lovebirds who can't live without one another.

Really, I couldn't have ended their story better myself.

The End!