Come on baby, don't fear the reaper
Baby take my hand, don't fear the reaper
We'll be able to fly, don't fear the reaper
Baby, I'm your man

Blue Öyster Cult ~ Don't Fear The Reaper

Drifting out of the abyssal darkness, I slide thru deep shadows and stride boldly out into the starlight night. I take a moment to look around at all the unfamiliar facing me. Slowly scanning around the empty schoolyard looking for the object of my midnight mission. But absolutely nothing is moving at all ...not even an early autumn leaf is astir. Not that I should be totally surprised by this, seeing that at the moment time itself is sort of frozen in inertia. Which is sort of like a very slow decay of suspended animation or something?

Truth is, even for an immortal angel, I am not very good at modern math problems. Which is probably why I am barely getting by with a C in this century's so-called science class. So I like to think of this moment more like that scene in the last X-Man movie I saw. The one where Quicksilver is running around so fast that everything else seems statically stuck in place. So I guess what the so-called science says is true after all ...time is really relative?

Anyways, the point being I can slip slightly outside of time when the situation calls for it. I suppose you could say it's kind of one of the perks of being an Angel of Death? Not Thee Angel of Death, but just one of many minor minion angels in Azreals Army of Reapers. So go ahead Einstien, try to science up an explanation for that particular religious reality?

I waste about a thousand heartbeats just cruising around this school, peering into the empty classroom windows. Checking for some sign of the pending suicide, that I am supposed to be here to prevent. Like maybe she is going to hang herself in homeroom? Or slit her wrists in the school science lab? Some spot that has some super sad special meaning just for her, to make that final F-U statement to the world. But so far nothing going, until a distant soul sobbing sound draws me closer to the scene of the sin.

As this is more or less a timeless bubble of temporal inertia, that sort of sound shouldn't be occurring naturally. So unnaturally then ...like the same way explosions in a space vacuum shouldn't really make a roaring boom noise? No offense to your cinematic genius George Lucas, but your space-time astrophysics kind of suck dude. Oh, and Han Solo shot first, so suck it.

Admittedly, I am sort of distracted by the whole "Han shot first" conundrum, and why it was totally not necessary to change that scene from the original version. Seriously, and this coming from the same director that had an incestuous brother and sister make out scene in the original movie? Yeah, I'm thinking that if you were gonna change the original Star Wars script to teach kids some modern morality? Then Han Solo shot first was so not the place I would have started editing. Personally, I blame the Disneyfication of post-modern mortality tales for this seemingly inexplicable slight against the heroic Han.

Another unnatural metallic clanking sound somewhere out by the big bleachers alerts me to the object of my desire. Which is when I spot her, standing high up top the aluminum bleachers overlooking the football field. I mean if you can actually use the word "when" in a near timeless bubble of temporal inertia? Oh Holy Hell, I really hate celestial science problems.

I drift slowly up the football field bleachers towards the poor stupid soul that awaits its fate. When I get to the top of the bleachers, I am faced with a frozen form of a teenaged girl in the process of tying a bungee-cord noose around her slender neck. One deep penetrating leer down inside her soul later and I already know who she is ...Anna Belle Lee. Man-o-man talk about naming your kid for a tragic destiny?

On the surface, she seems like one of those dark haired gothic lolita chicks that I go to high school with sometimes. The type of girl who wears a little too much makeup, dresses in all black and probably finds deep personal meaning in Marylin Mansion song lyrics. In other words, she's pretty much an accident just waiting to happen. Or if I am lucky, a possible Netflix and chill chick to hook-up with on Halloween?

I check my temporal timepiece and see the second hand of the Chronos clock is still spinning around. But I can tell that it is already starting to slightly slow down to the countdown. So looks like I have at least a couple of hundred heartbeats to kill off before time catches up to me. So I spend the remaining timeless moments I have left checking out the chick in the mix.

First, I take the opportunity to relieve her of the rope around her neck, so one less thing to worry about. Then I skin back her long shirt sleeves to expose her thin arms. At just a glance, I can see she has no visible tattoos, scars, or dark marks. She does have some telltale welts that indicate that she has indulged in some sort of self-harm scratching of late. Or maybe she just forgot to use the fancy fabric softener on the last laundry day? So I after a cursory check of her soft skin, I finger back her shirt collar and scope out her chest for demon sign.

"Not too bad actually." I mug my approval over the objects of my interest.

I mean they're not the biggest or best-looking bra-clad breasts I've ever seen? But still, definitely a pair of prizes worth getting to know, should the occasion arise.

The distant sound of rolling thunder interrupts my once over, warning me of the end of inertia and the resurgence of the real-time entropy over my moment. So I get within breathing distance of this stupid chicklette preparing to do the dark deed, and take up my position for what comes next.

With a thundering crack of the celestial sound barrier above, the surging wave of time crashes into the current. And suddenly we are both snapped back into the entropy of reality, or real time? Or whatever the current moment is actually called ...The Right Now?

"And we are back." I drone dryly. "And what a waste of some pretty potential."

Her heart hitches, and little Anne Belle Lee about nearly jumps right out of her skin at the sight of me staring into her face. I mean as an Angel of Death, I know I can be a little intimidating at times to a mere mortal. Especially when I am wearing my cool dude dark cowl and skeletal pale skein. Which I totally am, cause you know I am way cool when I am rocking the Reaper thing. Like a walking talking hardcore death-röck album cover come to life. In a word, I am totally badassery incarnate.

"Where the hell did you come from?" She blurts when her brain sorta starts working again.

"Where does anyone really come from, but the stuff of someone else's dreams?" I wax philosophically, getting my groove on. "Like take yourself for instance? Once upon a time your poor parents probably thought that having you was a good idea, right? And now look at you? Standing here on the bleachers of a school who could care less about you? Thinking stupid suicide thoughts about things that you can't possibly even begin to understand?"

"Sad truth is, that they aren't even going to put one of those 'In Loving Memory' placards up here to mark your passing. Probably because the school administration thinks something like that might encourage other deathwish kids to take the final plunge here. And they really don't want their precious football bleachers turning into some sort of suicide destination spot, like that one Godzilla volcano island in Japan.

"So at best, all you're gonna get is maybe a temporary tiny cross and some candles? Possibly score a small vigil of the few people who kind of remembered you enough to show up? A couple of them are gonna say they wish they knew you better, and could have done something to help you. But between me and you, I think we both know they won't really mean it. They will be the types that try to seem like they are sad souls, so as to look like good people? Cause they have their own sad secrets to share with someone else who cares. But in reality, they are just pretending to care to get some extra attention."

"What? Who the hell are you?" She stammers back at this hard truth.

"My nom de mort is Ryder Pale," I intone coldly. "I am your Angel of Death, on this your final night on the mortal coil."

I get the instant look of shock and awe from her soulful eyes. Mixed with, what I am hoping is a little adoration for my awesome.

"Yeah, I know right? How cool is that!" I roll with my deathly rattling laugh.

"What do you want?" She whispers.

Her voice is sort of small, and to be honest, more than a little scared of me at the moment. But fear is good, I find it's a great motivator to avoid doing a lot of seriously stupid shit. Kind of like the seriously stupid mistake she was about to make.

"What do I want?" I muse thoughtfully. "You mean aside from sex, drugs and rock and roll?"

Back in the day, I used to go with "wine, women, and song" for this particular question. But sadly after the free-love 1960s, that seemed to lose some of its resonance with the up and coming teen suicide chick crowd. So now I have a relatively recent "sex, drugs and rock'n'roll" spiel to bust out for this moment.

"Ummm ...well let's see?" I muse almost thoughtfully for effect, before trying out my latest line. "Some scintillating conversation during drugs, but before the rock and roll sex? Or drugs during rock and roll, then some conversation after the scintillating sex stuff?"

Yeah, "scintillating" is one of my S.A.T. study words this week. So I've been trying to work into my vocabulary lately, with varying degrees of scintillating success.

"Oh, and maybe a decent score on my college entrance exams next year? I am kind of struggling on the math and science section right now, go figure? But you know community college is kind of cool too? And I heard that lots of hot chicks go to community college, just to make it to Spring Break." I punch up a Wyld Stallyns party on fist. "So partáy on the vacáy ...whoop-whoop?"

"Get the hell away from me you freak, and leave me alone." She starts backing away towards the edge.

"Oooo, so sorry chicklit, but no can do on the amscray." I shake her off. "Unfortunately, I am here for the duration one way or another. Well, at least for the next ten to fifteen minutes anyways? After that, the rest is all on you. But for now, it seems that we are sorta stuck together in this lost moment in time."

"And all those moments will be lost in time ...like tears in rain." I add the otherworldly accent for a little extra added emphasis.

But she clearly misses the deep spiritual meaning behind my fateful final words. Instead, she merely stands there blinking back at me, like I'm the one who's crazy?

"Are you freaking kidding me? You seriously haven't even seen the original Blade Runner yet?"

"What? No?" I see that she is slightly stunned in utter confusion as to the WTF of it all.

"Well, what can I say, other than you are really missing out. Ridley Scott's iconic retelling of P. K. Dick's Electric Dreams novel about a dystopian future. Where replicant clones have a limited lifespan and just want a little more life, is to die for. And I have to be brutally honest with you here, okay? Roy Batty would so kick your ass sideways for even thinking about this stupid shit. And it's not even lightly drizzling tonight?" I wave up to the clear sky of stars above. "So not even a poignant last dramatic monologue in the rain for you, Coo-coo-ca-choo."

"But don't worry about that for now. You can probably catch the remastered version later it on cable, or your next Netflix and chill night. You know, if you are still around after tonight?"

But even I suggest this most excellent idea, she is drifting a sliver closer to the edge of the ledge.

"Okay, I can see that might be a little off topic at the moment. So why don't we just get back to the life and death thing, okay?" I sigh getting back into character.

"So let's see where were we?" I snap my fingers to get her attention back where it belongs, namely me and my mission. "Oh yeah right, you were just contemplation ending your pathetic little life. And how much better off you'd be without all the bullshit you have to go thru on the daily basis?" I start off the litany of stupidity that has led her to this place in time.

"Like your mom's constant nagging at you to do your homework, clean your room and be better than your stupid stripper sister. And all the mean kids at school, who make fun of you for being the weird little goth girl. Oh, and all those the petty tyrant teachers, who don't really give a crap about you at all. Who do their best to make you feel small and insignificant, in order to feel a little better about how their own little loser lives failed to live up to their great expectations?

"Oh, and all your icky feelings about your girlie mooning time. That comes in slightly irregularly making you kind of crazy? But not totally insane enough for those good head meds, that will allow you to coast thru your formative years in a vague fugue state."

"The totality of all those things that has brought you to the precipice of your mortal existence. So woe is you, and lo and betide this is where you died ...maybe? She took the long march up the gallows and jumped from the very top of the football bleachers with a rope around her throat." I scowl around the top step we are currently standing on. "But then you totally forgot to tie off the rope? So what, you going for the splatter effect here?"

"Ah...huh?" She slightly stammers looking around for the rope that is long gone.

"Okay, so redux on that noose noise then? I'll have to start all over again." I rise up a little more loomier over her.

"So that was she, who was you, so shed her mortal coil and moved on to the next place. She climbed those clinky steps up to the top of the bleachers, and threw herself off to fly with the eagles one last time?" I sigh sadly. "But just as soon as she felt the air flowing thru her hair, she knew she had made the biggest mistake of her young life."

"Truth be told, most jumpers last thought right before they hit rock bottom is almost always, 'Oh shit! I think I just made a huge mistake!'. But not you, Anna Belle." I shake my cowled skull.

"No, your final thoughts are "Oh crap, now who's gonna feed the Beast? Fuuuuuuu...The End." I slap my hands together soundly to make the point. "And by the Beast, can I assume that's your pet dog? And not The Beast, as in the old Ozzy Osbourne album cover right?"

"Uh huh?" She shakes me off slowly.

"Oh, then FYI, in less than a month after your poorly attended funeral? Yeah, your mother is going to take the Beast to the pound and had him put down. So he can 'join you in hell' ...her words not mine." I deflect the rising rage and hammer my next point home. "So in the end, yours wasn't only life you so wantonly destroyed, but your dogs too. So that kind of sux for the Beast, right? Remember the life you save could be your own...and you know that dog you seem to care for more than yourself for some reason."

"But I wouldn't worry about that too much at the moment, because all dogs go to heaven automatically. Cats not so much, cause they kind of tend to consort with witches and plot their master's murders and the like? But dogs are all good to go. Yeah, God really likes dogs cause they are loyal beasts. So at least that's one problem solved, right?"

"So you were thinking to take that last leap of faith onto the old stairway to heaven, huh?" I stare down at the ground to make my next point. "Which I think brings up a very important point. You do know by Heavenly law that suicides go straight to Hell, right?" I emphasize the obvious implications of her actions.

"I mean unless there are mitigating circumstances. Like sacrificial war stuff to save the lives of others? The old proverbial jump on a live grenade to save your buddies lives. And the whole getting killed for hiding Anne Frank from Nazi's in your attic? That always gets a free pass, but I think that's really kind of a given."

"But seriously though, you don't need a suicide solution for your petty problems, Anna Belle. I'm thinking what you really need is a massive makeover and maybe a little less honesty in your life?" I make a point to look her up and down. "I mean with just a slightly less depressing wardrobe and a just little willingness to explore your wanton ways? Dare I say, you could even become semi-popular?"

"Because, and I really have to be honest here? This whole gothic 'death-becomes-her' suicidal Wednesday Addams thing your rocking on the regular? I mean don't get me wrong, I really dig Wednesday, cause that chick is definitely way too cool for school. But on you?" I snort hard thru my hollow nose bone. "Yeah, if that's not a cry for help I don't know what is?"

"And that hair ...seriously did you not see Wynonna Ryder's hair at the end of Heathers? And I hate to say this, but you just don't have the right pale complexion for that kind of death-warmed-over look. You might want to try going platinum blond, like that Dragon Mother chick on Game of Thrones? Yeah, I could see you really rocking the sexy bone white blonde thing, so much better."

"Anyways enough about your next look. Let's get back to the big question...so are you still really gonna off yourself here or what? Or are you gonna do something else with your bad little elf-self? Because just between me and you, I think we both know you can be better than this...a lot better. Maybe even something better for both of us?"

"But if you're still gonna off yourself ...is it cool if we hook-up first?" I skin back a shy skeletal smile. "I mean if you're gonna be better off dead anyways, right? So why not go out with a big bang?"

"Because realistically going to hell wise? The whole losing your virginity at the last minute, isn't really going to matter all that much? Not after that whole suicide thing happens. I mean, it's not like you are gonna end up in double damnation or whatever? Once for being a suicide, and twice for being a little wanton in your last few precious minutes on this mortal coil. Right?"

"So I guess what I am trying to say here is...if you can't be with the one you love? Love the one your with?" I skin back my best rictus grin and really pour on the old deathly angelic charm. "And hey, we are both here right now, right? With absolutely nowhere else to be for the next fifteen minutes or so. So what do say sweet pea you want to take a ride on the wild side with a Reaper or what?"

"Oh, but before we get to the part where we have a lot of sex for no apparent reason. You know, other than there is really nothing better to do ...like say kill yourself?" I try again to emphasizes what really important here. "I think we should probably set some ground rules, and maybe a safe word for any unwanted butt stuff?"

"Like 'No, don't, and stop', can be awfully confusing when said too fast in the moment. The phrasing comes out as 'No, don't stop!' instead of 'No ...Don't ...Stop!'. See there's an important difference in cadence there?" I give her my best come-hither nonchalant shrug. "For instance my safety word is Taco-Tuesday ...just saying."

She just stands there sorta stunned blinking back at all my awesome.

"Ummm, not to be pushy or anything? But this is kind of the part where you're supposed to say something? Like sure, let's totally do this thing!" I give her a simple suggestion in the right direction. "The sex stuff ...not the suicide death stuff?"

"Screw you! You ...you ...you sick perverted freak!" She is getting a little angry now.

Anger is a good thing, it can get you thru the dark times. Trust me, I have been to Hell and back, like literally to hell and back again. Sometimes a little righteous rage really is the best medicine for whatever malady ails you.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! That old carpe diem lust for life stuff!" I cheer her on to carnal victory. "So where do you want to do this thing? You want to try doing it standing up right here on the edge, so we can get our adrenaline X-Games adventure on? Or you wanna walk down to the football field and bang one out on the fifty-yard line logo, for school spirit?"

"Or you want me to just be there for you, like all super sweet and sensitive and shit? Hold you real tight and tell you its gonna be all right? In my big boney arms as I slowly make sweet sweet love to you, until you gasp in orgasmic extasy. Sighing the name of God, as you have multiple climaxes the likes you never thought possible. Until you finally collapse in my arms spent and weeping grateful tears of joyous rapture. Just before gently drifting into the best dreams you have ever dreamed."

I hear her breath hitch hard at my recital of her semi-secret story scribblings.

"Oooo, suddenly awkward?" I wince slightly. "Okay, sorry to say, but I kind of cheated a little on that last one. I kind of read your Wattpad summer sex story, before it got deleted, for violating the content rules about underage smutty slutty stuff. What can I say other than sexy summer romance novellas are my secret addiction?"

"Stay the hell away from me ...you psycho!" She turns on heel and quickly starts skipping down the bleacher benches away from me.

"Personally, I prefer psychopomp? As it's actually a little more accurate to our current personal paradigm?" I try to explain to her little fleeing form stomping down the stairs away from me.

"So that's a definite no-go then on the sex stuff then!?!" I yell after her, but to no avail.

"Okay yeah, so good talk then. Maybe I'll see you around and we can hang sometime?" I drone dryly. "You know ...or not? Whatever."

I take a seat on the cold aluminum bleachers and watch her stomping angrily off into the distant darkness. Back to what I can only assume is her horrible home life? Hopefully, she will sneak back into her bad sad little life and just see what happens tomorrow? Will the whole "Sun come out tomorrow" Orphan Annie theme song thing? Maybe take the Beast for a walk before breakfast and think thru some of her life choices...or in this case death choices?

After she is long gone, I check my ancient antique temporal timepiece to see that our time together is officially up.

"Okay, so it looks like little Anna Belle Lee will live to see another sunrise after all." I snap the Chronos closed and attach it back to the thick chain around my neck for safe keeping, before leaving the scene of the sin.

C'est la vie, my sweet little Anna Belle Lee.

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