Page One: His Mistress

Death grew tired of being alone. He envied humans for their concept of companionship. He wanted to have someone to confide in. He needed someone to agree and disagree with. He just needed, that was all there was to it.

Anne Mary was born to play the violin. She was considered a prodigy. Without lessons, she was able to play the stringed instrument. All she needed to do was listen to any melody and she’d be able to play it. When she finally learned how to read notes, her talent seemed limitless, and her hunger grew.

A moment—Death doesn’t count in hours or days—during his search, he heard a melody. The tune was something out of the netherworld. Its meaning could only be fully understood by those who exist outside the realm of human reality. Death was drawn to the enchanting, yet morose music. A violin called to him.

In her continued search for the ultimate piece of music, Anne Mary sent out a call for sheet music from anyone who would allow her to play them. One day—she counted in days—a thick package arrived without a return address. When Anne Mary opened it, a note fell and it read: Play this and see what comes to you.

Intrigued by the note, Anne Mary looked at the sheet music. The paper was yellow and old, but the black notes still stood out. Its title was Lucifer’s Aria.

Death reached the source of the melody, and if he had breath, he’d have gasped. She stood in the middle of the room in a trance, playing from sheet music that looked familiar. Her ebony hair was half swept up in an elegant style, which framed her face and neck nicely. She wore a red dress, reminding him of blood on a battle field. Her skin was pale, almost ashen in color. He knew, it was then he knew, she needed to be his, and nothing would stop it from happening.

Anne Mary started playing the Aria not knowing the consequences of each note her violin sang. A force she couldn’t stop or didn’t want to stop pushed her on. She wanted to play the intriguing piece. The moment she started, it was all over. Something took over her and wouldn’t let go. The piece was intoxicating—a chocking sadness, yet longingly calling out…mournful, yet filled with unshed tears.

When Anne Mary opened her eyes, a cloaked figure hovered in front of her. Everything seemed cold. Hopelessness filled the room. Who are you? She asked, continuing to play.

I am the taker of lives, the bringer of souls to rest. I am that which ends beginnings and begins with endings, it answered. I have been searching for you and you shall be mine.

Anne Mary did nothing but play. She couldn’t seem to stop anymore nor did she want to stop. There was no stopping the melody coming from her violin and the figure seemed so entranced by it. When she finally found her voice she asked, what do you want with me?

Everything that you have and everything that you have yet to have, that is what I want. Requiring your companionship is what I crave. This song is what brought me to you and there is nothing that will allow me to leave without you. Come with me. Step into the countless millennia I walk upon, my mistress, and Death reached out to her.


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