Fresh flowers filled vases throughout the room, filling the air with the scent of lilies and roses. Sunlight streamed through large windows. The two swords displayed in front of them seemed to glow, while the rest of the area was bathed in the light. As we walked in the jangling of my bracelets made more sound than Death's shoes did. Directly in front of us, there was a desk, and behind that desk there was a chair.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The chair spun slowly, revealing a man who could only be Jacob. With his fingers steepled in typical villain fashion, he stared at us with an eerie smile on his face. Gray hair fell around his shoulders, choppy like he cut it off with a knife.

"Can you kill the stereotypical villain stuff?" Death asked. "It's unbecoming and it's annoying."

"Well, what would you rather have me do? It's not like you'll make me out to be the hero." Standing up, Jacob moved from behind his desk. He moved with feline grace and power, something I didn't expect from a dictator. Maybe I should've. Each movement was accentuated by his perfectly tailor suit, which hugged his body in all the right places.

"Even if I wanted to, you just made it incredibly hard."

Jacob sighed. "Why are you here, Death? I'm a busy man."

"You know the keys my sister apparently did a buyback on? Did you keep yours?"

"Maybe I did, or maybe I didn't. I don't see why it matters."

"She took some stuff that belongs to me. I want it back," Death said. He crossed his arms, and I followed suit. I was trying to make the moment more serious, something hard to do given Death stood there in the same shorts that scarred me for afterlife. It didn't help the outfit I wore was less than threatening.

"I want the whole truth."

"That is the whole truth. She stole my scarf and my scythe, I want them back."

"He's more upset about the scarf though," I said. I dropped my arms back to my side. The bracelets made a satisfying tinkling sound, so I shook my hands to make them rattle again.

"Kid-" Death looked at me. He spoke through clenched teeth. "-what did I tell you outside?"

"To not say anything?"

"And what did you do?"

"I didn't say that word," I pointed out. Death sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He mumbled something to himself before shaking his head.

"I take it she doesn't actually know how to dance?" Jacob sat on the edge of his desk.

"I don't know. I didn't ask her."

"No, I don't know how to dance. But I do know how to shoot a gun and get rid of a dead body." I smiled. Moving a step closer to Death, I started digging through the pockets of his cloak, making sure to note which of his pockets housed what I wanted. My hand also happened to close around a piece of saltwater taffy, so I took that.

"Okay," Death said, looking down at me. "We are having a conversation when we get home."

"Bold of you to assume I'll tell you." I popped the piece of orange taffy into my mouth and struggled to talk around it. "Now can we hurry this up? Some of this is really itchy." The sequins and elastic rubbed against my skin and a strip of gray skin began to perk out from under the makeup. I tugged at the material, but that only made things worse.

Thankfully, Death didn't want to make me suffer. "Jacob, give me the key."

"Like I said, I might have one. I might not. And come on, can't you think of any other way to word that? You're so repetitive. Every time I run into you it's give me this, give me that, and never once have you bothered to say please."

"Fine. Would you please give me the key?"

"Well, now that I told you what you were doing wrong, it's an empty gesture."

Death opened his mouth to respond, but a side door opened. A guy walked in, stared at us, and looked at Jacob.

"Sir, you have a speech scheduled in thirty minutes. Will you have-" He paused. "-whatever this is wrapped up by then or would you like me to reschedule it?"

Jacob groaned and rubbed his temples. "Which speech is it? Is it the military one or the education one?"

"The military speech, sir."

"Okay." Jacob exhaled. "Okay. Postpone it for two hours and-" He looked at Death. "-do you mind if I write some notes really quick?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." Jacob grabbed some paper and scrawled some words onto three separate pieces. He handed them to the guy, who stood awkwardly next to the desk. "Miguel, give this to Della, this to Alisha, and this one to Peter." As soon as Miguel left the room, Jacob turned back to us. "Where were we?"

"You were going to give me the key," Death said.

Jacob didn't fall for it. He laughed. "Nice try, but do you know how often I-"

"Hey, uh, quick question." I interrupted him. He sighed.

"I was in the middle of saying something." Annoyance flashed over his face, made all the more obvious by his tone.

"I know, but I would've forgotten if I waited."

"Fine. What is it?"

"Uh. Great, hold on a sec." I snapped my fingers. Thought after thought ran through my mind, as I tried to pinpoint my question. "Oh, you know the signs for the superhero and supervillain stuff? Is that a tourist trap or is that real?"

"Sorta both. Anthony and Clea are twins, and they both took different paths in life and they fight each other but, it's just complicated. That's the only way I can describe it."

"Hey, hello?" Death waved his hands through the air. "Can we get back to the reason why I'm here?"

"Sorry," Jacob said with a wince. "Also, should I ask where you found a random girl who was willing to help you sneak in here? Especially when the penalty for something like that is, you know, you?"

"She really didn't get a choice."

"Yeah, because someone decided not to explain what going through the front door meant." I crossed my arms again, trying my best to ignore how the movement made the material scratch against my skin. "How'd the lady at the gate not see through this anyway? As far as I know, not a single person has greenish skin." By that point, most of the makeup around the hem of my clothes had worn away. I rubbed at my arm absentmindedly, causing some of the makeup to give way. I wondered if Death had makeup remover at home, if not it was going to be a pain in the butt.

"Janet?" Jacob asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before returning to normal. "Oh, she's colorblind. Like completely colorblind. And you know you guys didn't need a disguise to get in here right? I have an open gate policy."

Death stared at him. "Okay, are you the same Jacob I've met before or did the kid bring me to the wrong dictator? Because last I checked you were the most paranoid person on Earth."

"People change."

"Says the dictator."

"I don't know what I can say to prove it to you." Jacob reached to the side and turned a picture frame towards us. A little girl in a mud covered red dress stared at the camera with a wide smile. "It's hard to believe, but when one of my traps almost killed Alisha, I decided enough was enough. Actually it's not hard to believe, it's just hard for you to understand." Jacob shook his head. "I feel bad for you, Death. Just a force of nature with no feelings, not sentiments, no meaningful attachments to anything, how could you possibly understand what it means to almost lose your child?"

Those words seemed to bother Death, he bristled in a way I had only seen when I made a deal with Luci. His eyes switched between burning and dull like they couldn't decided, or like his emotions were in a turmoil. Almost instantly, the scent of flowers was replaced with that of decay.

The thought of never being able to feel those things must've been a touchy subject, and even though I overheard him telling Michael he cares about me, I didn't know what that meant. He could care for me without necessarily having an attachment to me; all the emotions he showed could be a facade, a way to humanize something that never was and never could be one.

Taking a deep breath, Death managed to calm himself before he rotted through the floor. "Do you have a key or not?"

"Oh, I very much do not." Jacob grinned, proud of the state he put Death in. "Why would I keep my key? It makes so much sense for Clara to have the only one; she's been avoiding you for so long, I'm surprised you haven't given up. Though, here's a question for you." Jacob slid off of his desk and tapped his chin. He walked behind his desk and stared out the window. "I'm guessing you've tracked down the other three, so why havent you done this before? Getting rid of us immortals is a part of your job, no? So why not do it if it's so easy to find us?"

It was a question I had too. Death went on about how hard they are to track down, but in less than a mortal's week, we had tracked four of the five down.

"You're acting like it's so easy. I wouldn't have been able to find you if it wasn't for the kid," Death said, though it left me confused on what he meant. "And like Life doesn't make more of you guys. This last century she's made at least fifty more, and every time I get close to one of you guys she tries to distract me with more, but not this time. She's not going to get the last laugh.

"Every single time I've come against her, she tries to cocoon me or she beats me to the point of unconsciousness." Death's hands clenched into fists. With each word, the anger in his voice grew. "This is the first time she's done something as low down as stealing my scythe. We both know why she'd do that. The balance is at its tipping point. Her having my scythe outweighs anything I'm getting from killing you guys." He took a deep breath and pulled off his gloves. "I should probably leave you alive and go after Clara, but I can't risk you telling Life. The moment she finds out I'm after her, well, I can't risk it."

"I really wish you would've said that," Jacob said. His hands wrapped around the hilts of the swords. He pulled them free and looked at us.

"Hey look, I wasn't the one who got us in trouble by talking." I smiled, looking at Death. His mouth was set into a hard line. He reached a hand towards me, before dropping it.

"Kid, get behind me." He didn't give me a choice, moving in front of me. I rolled my eyes and slipped my hand into the pocket. I pulled out the gun. I tucked it into the waistband of my pants. I moved beside him.

"No offense, but I'd rather not be shot in the back."

Only when I finished talking did I realize Jacob had pressed a button on his intercom."Don't attack unless it seems like I'm going to die. I don't want more people perishing than needed."

"You've got to admit, he is a pretty thoughtful dictator," I said, sidestepping as Jacob leapt at Death. His swords flashed through the air at speeds rivaling Life. Even with all of his attention focused on dodging, blood still began to flow from Death's skin. "Like seriously, most others would've-"

"Kid, less talky, more fighty." Death jumped backwards, barely dodging an attack that would've crippled him.

"What do you want me to fight? That puppy?" I gestured to the dog which I hadn't noticed earlier, but was now cowering next to an empty flowerpot.

"How about Jacob?"

"With what? I'm not bringing my fists to a sword fight." My finger slide over the licking mechanism of the gun.

"I'm starting to thing you're not much of a fighter."

"I can fight, I'm just more interested in not getting stabbed. If those things are the same as Harper's knife, I don't think that would be fun." The glow still surrounding them gave me a bad feeling. They were the opposite of Harper's weapon, glowing instead of dull, but if those weapons react in anyway like Death's eyes do, the glowing probably wasn't a good sign for us.

"The odds of-" A sword slid through Death's stomach and out his back. The other sword drew new cuts and slashes.

My eyes widened and a half choked scream emerged from my lips. My first instinct was a fairly simple one. I pulled the gun from my waistband, aimed, and fired. The bullet lodged itself in Jacob's shoulder and my own gave a empathetic throb.

"Okay, ouch." Jacob removed the sword Death hung on. He leaned his weight against his desk, as Death collapsed to the floor. "That motherflipping hurt."

"Motherflipping?" Death asked, through labored, and unnecessary, breaths.

"Uh, my five year old is in the room. Peter, how about you go play with Alisha, hm? Daddy will be fine, we're just playing in here, you can join in when you're older." The door behind me closed, I looked back but didn't see any sign of the kid. Jacob released a deep breath and muttered out a few actual cuss words. "I've been shot enough times not to use potty language around my kids. And how are you still conscious?" He moved over to Death and added a few more cuts onto his back, arms and legs.

I could've helped, but short of getting within range of the blades my only option was throwing the empty gun. I hadn't thought to grab more bullets or powder or anything I would need to reload. My eyes trailed it. The weapon's familiar weight left my hand and it soared through the air, and whacked Jacob on the head with a loud thud. One would've thought the arm things would've activated during this fight, but they were strangely absent. Even as Jacob, who was more annoyed by getting hit with a gun than anything else, rushed at me. I yelped and ran around the room, as one tends to do when being chased by a guy with a sword.

He quickly gained on me and burning pain shot through my arm. I kicked him and scrambled to grab Death. I tried to drag him out if the room, he placed a hand over mine.

"Hold on, kid," He mumbled. He forced himself up and walked towards Jacob, he dodged around a strike, choosing to move on Jacob's injured side. "Night night." His hand pressed against the hole in Jacob's shoulder.

"Wha-"

Jacob dissolved into dust, and Death collapsed against the desk. "Sweet mother of minimalism, how'd I do that?" He panted with a hand pressed to his stomach. I walked over to him.

"You okay?" I asked, my eyes scanning his body. He untied his cloak from his waist and tied it tight around my arm.

"More or less. We need to get home, before you bleed out." Death grabbed a piece of paper. He dipped a finger in his blood and drew symbols on the paper. I jumped as the doors slammed open. Death pressed the paper into my hand, moving to shield me from the thrown knives and gunfire.

"Okay, first of all, y'all are being total jerks right now." Death coughed. He wiped his mouth; I caught sight of more blood on that arm. "Second, this is in self defense." He threw his arm out. The men buckled to the ground, soon followed by Death. "I really shouldn't have done that."

"How do we get home?" I asked. Death stared up at me, eyes unfocused. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers against my cheek.

"-iel." The first part of the word was too mumbled and slurred for me to make it out. "The paper."

I looked at the crumpled piece of paper in my hands. The symbols had began to bleed making it difficult to make out the individual meanings. Only when Death's hand fell back to his chest did I realize I was holding it upside down.

The symbols for Death's name covered it, along with one that meant something else entirely. Key. My eyebrows drew together, until I realized what he did. He made me a key, something he didn't want to do, based on our earlier conversation.

"How do I use this?" I looked at him. He didn't answer; he was unconcious.

I pressed it between my hands on a whim. I reached deep inside myself, trying to find whatever lets me use those powers. There was a sliver of energy, thinner than what I used to find Jacob. It was a straw to grasp if there ever was one, but it was all I had. My fingers tingled. The paper began to glow in my hands, seemingly activated by the mingling energy from the ribbons and flames. Once the glow became too much to stand, I grabbed Death. The shining star of a paper collapsed inward, erasing all of the light around us and drawing us through. My body crashed hard against the steps, while Death ended up half hanging from the banister.

I groaned and picked myself up. Would pushing him off hurt more or less than the amount I would hurt myself trying to drag him over onto the porch? I didn't know, but if I pulled him back, I wouldn't have to drag him as far.

His body crashed over the banister, into the dead shrubs below.

Chapter: 3,046

Book: 60,651

Uh, how'd you like this chapter?

I'm not sure how I feel about it but that just might be from my grandma yelling at me to put the cat out. Ollie likes pulling latic off of the porch and crawling under it.

See yah