My head throbbed. The sound of a heart monitor was beeping noisily. I slowly blinked a couple of times before I met the white ceiling. Not a moment later, my other senses awakened too—the smell of stale and sterile wafted in the air. I felt an ache all over my body and pain—my eyes snapped open. Dead people shouldn't feel pain. I immediately sat up and winced, feeling a soreness across my muscles.

I looked around in an empty hospital room with only two small windows. My gaze dropped toward my arm where a needle was embedded into my skin. I did not miss that at all. There were a few minor cuts around my hands other than the internal pain gnawing at my bones. My thoughts then started to rush about last night. Theodore, the car, the rain, the man with the wooden mask. I could still hear his faint voice, "Happy Birthday, Nora." How did he know it was my birthday?

More importantly, why was I alive?

I almost got off the bed when a nurse wearing blue scrubs appeared through the door and greeted me with a smile. "Good morning sweetie, it's nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?" she asked.

I opened my mouth, but when I tried to speak my voice came out thin and raspy. 

The nurse quickly walked over to the table side and poured me a cup of water. I briskly took it from her hands and started chugging the water down. "Slow down or else you'll choke." she looked concerned as she said. "It must've been scary for you last night with the weather acting crazy and almost getting hit by a car. Halloween always brings out the recklessness in everyone. Good thing, you got yourself out of the way just in time. You only needed a couple of stitches on your forehead." I nodded aimlessly. "Oh sweetie, you gave your boyfriend such a scare." At the mention of my boyfriend, my throat closed as I coughed out the water. 

She tapped my back gently.

The nurse says again. "I told you to slow down."

Once my cough simmered down, I leaned back into the floppy pillow. She walked over back to the edge of my bed. "Should I go get him? He's been waiting all night for you to wake up. Isn't that sweet? Oh, what am I asking? Of course, you want him. I don't think you want to spend your birthday alone. I'll get him for you. I'll be right back." she winked and left me before I could question her about my so-called boyfriend.

I had no idea who it could be. Theodore? The man with the wooden mask? Another stranger? No one should be waiting for me to wake up. If it had to be someone, I hoped it was Theodore. I could forgive stupidity but anyone else I wanted to kill for ruining my plan. I was so damn close. I crossed my arms and waited for my savior.

Quiet footsteps entered. 

My gaze slowly turned to the white floor, and a pair of black, polished shoes came into my view. They looked exactly like the ones I saw last night. My eyes moved lazily looking at his black slacks, white button-up shirt with a thin black tie, and broad shoulders covered by a wool coat. There were silver skull buttons sewn onto his coat. They gleamed despite it being in a dim and dull room.

I finally made our eyes meet, and when I looked into them they reminded me of a starless night. An eternal darkness swirled in them. I shivered as I got lost in his beauty. His thick, silky ink hair was pushed back with a few strands framing his smooth carved skin, down to the slope of his nose and those sinful lips of scarlet. He was young but looked slightly older than me by possibly two or three years. He also was the man with the wooden mask from last night.

I found him and yet, when I met his gaze again I felt like I had been the one caught.

Another figure appeared behind him, a shorter blonde-haired man who was more broad-chested and muscular than his friend. He had a rugged face with fine blonde brows. His cobalt eyes met mine and widened a fraction till he schooled his features into a blank stare. The dark-haired man spoke, his eyes never leaving mine. "Hans, go stand by the door," he ordered, and the blonde, Hans, swiftly turned without a word and walked out, closing the door. I heard a click. I gripped my arms.

"You don't mind, do you?" his voice was low and hushed as if trying to contain his excitement. "I don't want anyone to interrupt us." He walked over slowly to the end of my bed with his hands carefully tucked behind him. He was hiding something. Maybe something to probably kill me with.

I swallowed. "Who are you?" I said rather weakly.

"You know who I am," he said matter-of-factly.

I frowned. I would remember someone like him. I don't think I will forget him even after today.     

 Still, I was starting to get aggravated by his mysterious behavior. 

But, I played along. "Boyfriend?" Then there it was—that same vicious smile from last night danced on his lips. "Only if you want me to be," he said and then released a hollowed laugh.

"Don't worry, I told them that I was your boyfriend so they would take care of you faster. You should've seen me last night. I could've won an Oscar." In the last part, he could've been talking to himself more.

He was a strange, beautiful man, and yet the more I looked at him the angrier I got because I was supposed to be dead and I was not. He also made Theodore walk into a busy street. He ruined everything. Whatever his reasons were, I did not care for them.

I tried to hold my temper back. "Look, I don't why you saved me last night but—"

"You're welcome," he said.

I exhaled and gritted out. "No, I'm not thankful for you." his thick brows pinched together. "I saw what you did to Theodore. You pushed him onto the street. You almost killed someone. I almost died because of you." He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't kill anyone, and the boy was going to die," he said casually. "You knew that."

My body froze.

How did he know? How does he know that I knew Theodore was going to die? I stared at the strange man until he abruptly threw a bouquet of white tulips onto my bed. "For you," he muttered.

I didn't reach for them. I felt the tiniest pressure from them on my feet. I peeled my legs away, brought them towards my chest, and hugged them. I didn't want anything to do with those flowers or him. I was about to tell him to leave when I saw him flipping through a file folder and I knew it was mine. All of my private information was there. From my name to where I lived to my in-depth diagnosis, it was all written there. He flipped each page as if it were a magazine and looked mildly entertained. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Stop reading that," I demanded. "Stop it."

His eyes rose from the file, briefly. "Why? What are you hiding?" I've seen a lot of things but this was by far the strangest thing that's ever happened to me. The nerve and the audacity of this man. My ears drummed. He reads out loud, "Miss De Luna makes poor attempts to talk about the voices. She will not willingly discuss what she hears, what they sound like, or how she knows when someone is going—" I lurched forward crushing the bouquet of tulips with my knees.

He raised his hand in the air and I clawed at his arm trying to reach for it. "Give it to me," I growled.

He craned his neck, all humor erased from his eyes. "Not until you return what is mine." I dropped my knees onto my bed as his body loomed over mine like a dark cloud. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

He brought the file to his side as his gaze suddenly became furious. "Theodore Pierce," he said, his tainted lips curling upward. "You saved him when he was supposed to die. You're the banshee, you call forth death, except this time you didn't do that. Why did you save him?" Despite being clothed I felt exposed and bare. How did he know what I was?

I mustered a steady voice and asked him again. "Who are you?"

"Your eternal companion." he declared. "Death."

An ominous silence rested in the air as we exchanged breaths. He must be lying. He couldn't possibly be Death. He must be joking. But he looked serious. Deadly serious. Could he be? 

I shook my head. "I think you need some serious help. The good thing is that we are in a hospital." He roughly grabbed my arm, the lights flickered above us as he brought his nose near mine. "I'm not sick and neither are you. I know what lives inside your pretty little head. Ask me how I know." he whispered.

My body shivered.

Instead of indulging him, I dropped my voice down an octave. "I think you were a naughty little boy and mommy told you a ghost story to get you to act right. It didn't work but that's okay a late bloomer can still learn." He looked a little surprised but he still held my arm and gripped it tighter.

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"You're not a ghost story. You're real. I'm holding you. And I'm real too." he murmured. "You can feel my flesh, my breath mingling with yours. You can hear the words coming out of my mouth." His lips nearly brushed with mine. "Or do you need to taste me to know I'm real?" I managed to yank my arm out of his grasp.

A malicious smirk appeared on his blood-red mouth.

I muttered. "So what? You could be a sick individual for all I know." He dropped my file back into its slot and walked away then stopped by the window. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black coat and exhaled. "Once, in a house on Egypt Street," my heart stopped beating. "there lived a rabbit who was made almost entirely of china." His gaze met mine.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move, I couldn't feel anything.

It was the first line of a book my mother read to me every night. It was the last book she read to me before she died. Nobody could've known unless you were there or she told you. 

Death's voice rang through my ears, "Should I finish the story for you? I memorized it just for you." he taunted. "Your mother told me how much it would make you happy. Are you not happy? Are you not impressed?" My knees dropped onto the bed.

He's achieved what Dr. Navarro has been trying to do for years, reopen an old wound. It felt raw. I felt like I was seven years old again. My eyes stung.

"What do you want from me?" I uttered.

His pitch-black clothes blocked my view. "Let's talk about the consequences of your action." he chirped.

I don't think I've ever hated someone as quickly as him.

Death went on, "But I know it is your birthday and I happen to love birthdays. So, I'll grant you one wish you hold close to your heart. And please, don't say you want to meet your mother because you and I both know there is something else much more you want than seeing your mother." he teased. "I think you might even kill for it."

"Could I kill you?" He laughed again, deep and empty. "No, you can't. I'm immortal." What a fucking shame.

I met his gaze. "Why are you granting me a wish?"

He exhaled as he said. "You don't want to make this easy, do you?" he continued, "Because it is your birthday and people usually make a wish on their birthdays. I also believe wish is a more suitable word than punishment for this occasion, don't you think?" He leaned against the white wall with his long legs crossed.

Punishment? I hadn't done anything wrong. "And what did I do to be punished?" My voice became steady again as anger licked away at the opened wound.

He tilted his chin forward, his eyes cast down. "You saved him. He was my soul to take and you stole him from me." his voice dropped, becoming lethal. "You've disrupted a balance. Now, I have to go look for another to replace him." I almost laughed.

"Oh no, poor you." I mocked him. "You've to go look for someone else who is going to die. That must be so hard for you to do."

His jaw tightened. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

I shrugged. "Sounds like the Grim Reaper can't do his job." He straightened his posture and narrowed his gaze. "Neither can the banshee." I flipped him off. He rolled his eyes but I saw the muscle in his jaw ticked.

After a silence, he finally says, "I'm going to take them away from you. I'm going give you what you always wanted and in return, you will watch the life that will be taken instead of the boy who was supposed to die." I looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

"What makes you think I will say yes to that?" I challenged.

He smiled thinly, viciously. "Because you won't be able to say no. You're getting your silence." he tapped the side of his head as he took slow steps towards me again. "I can make it quiet for you." He now had my interest.

Strangely, I haven't heard the voices talk since last night. I haven't heard them utter a word or make a sound since he walked in. They were awfully quiet. 

I eyed him up and down then met those midnight eyes. "Can you really do it?" I said, quietly.

He got closer with a glint of amusement in his gaze but nodded. "And all I have to do is watch someone die?" I asked.

His smile widened. "Just the one."

I shouldn't consider his offer, but if I took it I would not stop worrying about bumping into anyone and live without fear of listening to their death. I could live the life my mother and grandmother would've wanted. I could be the owner of my mind again. Maybe I could try to live a little longer. This would be the last death I would have to watch, and I've seen so many. What was one more death?

Before agreeing, I just wanted to confirm one thing. "After I do it, I won't see you again, right? You won't come back and try to take back your wish?" I pressed for a promise. I wanted something secure.

He teased. "And here I thought we could become friends." he then assured me. "Yes, you and I will never cross paths again. Not until your time comes."

How sweet of him. I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. "Do it."

He slowly approached me and slipped his fingers into my hair, slightly pushing it back. I held my breath. The lights flickered above us once more. He dragged his fingers down my jaw, and another shiver passed through me. He felt like heavenly greed. Half his face was covered in the dark. "They're gone," he admitted. "They've been gone since last night."

My eyes widened.

He relished my shock as he pulled his hand away like he won a prize. "See you soon, Miss De Luna." That fucking lunatic. It was no wonder I hadn't heard anything from the voices. How did he even know I was going to say yes?

But before he left I needed to know something else.

"Wait," I called out, and he halted his steps. "You said you met my mother. Was there anything else she said?" My voice became raspy.

Was she okay? Was she with my grandmother? Was she disappointed with me? He remained quiet for a moment longer until I heard him say. "Someone will come. Someone will come for you," he confessed.

I immediately recognized the line from the book she would read to me. The same one he quoted earlier. All my mother had to say was a quote from a children's book. My body trembled. I almost shouted. "Nobody is coming! Nobody is here!" I simply swallowed, nodding away from Death.

"Enjoy the flowers," he uttered before finally leaving the room.

I sat on the bed with a bouquet of tulips and a wretched heart. I took the flowers, skimming them with my fingers until I curled my hand around the soft petals and crushed them like cotton balls. I bent their shape until I ripped their heads.

"I will not cry" I whispered, feverishly. "I will not cry."

I tore away at the tulips.