Bob takes out his key, opens the door, enters, allows the door to slap shut on its own and walks towards his room, without interacting with anybody.

Naturally he presses the button on the doorknob. He doesn’t want to be disturbed. This is his room, his own private space nobody can invade. No!

He doesn’t even bother to switch on the light of his room. Instead he switches on the monitor. The screen greets him with a familiar wallpaper, a drawing of a samurai hero. He’s used to staring at the flashing screen all day, all night long, in the dark, through his thick spectacles. The screen is a flat 24”  LCD high resolution one. He has a mission tonight. Before sunrise tomorrow, he, the samurai, would kill all evil ninjas and rescue his princess. He puts on his helmet (his headset) and grips his sword (his mouse).

In no time Bob enters his virtual home. There he finds his value, his meaning of existence. There he slaughters the bad guys. There he leads an army. There he drives out dark forces. There he saves the world. There he’s a tall, strong, charming, charismatic, brave, intelligent shogun, a skillful fighter admired by many.

There’s no need to talk about what kind of person Bob is in real life. Nobody’s interested. Yes that summarizes it. He’s just nobody. If someone does notice Bob occupying space in school, they give him a name. Geek. Other than that, nobody cares. Even he himself doesn’t know where his life’s going. Even he himself doesn’t care.

Once in a while there are knocks at the door. His mother’s voice does penetrate the room door. First time urging him to dinner. Second time scolding him for doing nothing other than playing computer games. Third time informing him dinner’s now in the fridge. Forth time telling him it’s time to sleep. Fifth time scolding him even more. Yet Bob’s well protected by his helmet. His headset blocks all annoying noises. He’s on an important mission now. No one is to disturb!

After winning the battle against the fiercest task force of ninjas, Bob’s stomach seriously advices him food is required if he’s to continue his mission. Reluctantly Bob pauses the game, drops his helmet and sword and checks the time. 3am. Not only his stomach now. His eyes also suggest that he may even need some sleep, in addition to food.

Like a zombie, Bob makes his way to the kitchen. He gulps his dinner down his throat without tasting it. He doesn’t have time. The virtual world’s calling. His princess’ pleading.

……

He checks the time. 3am. Alright it’s about time.

“The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” He mutters to himself as he moves forward.

In contrast to his job ahead, he’s wearing white. It’s like he’s going to a wedding or something. White shirt. White tie. White suit. White pants. White hat. In the streets so late in the night where there’s nobody, where buzzing silence is the only sound, his outfit radiates a ghostly white.

He always picks this outfit. He respects his job. Not only respect. He’s in awe of it.

His steps echo along, until he comes to a stop. Looking up, he sees almost all windows are black. Almost all but one. Normal eyes cannot see. But he’s in no way normal. Light is flashing behind one window. It’s the light from a monitor screen. A flat 24” LCD high resolution one.

Lightning flashes, threatening to tear the night sky open. It’s about to rain. But before that, he’d get his job done.

Narrowing his eyes he continues with his mission.

……

Now Bob is very close from rescuing his princess. It’s a difficult battle demanding utmost concentration and tricky mouse clicks.

At this critical moment, Bob hears knocks at the door. He ignores them. Absolutely nothing is to disturb. Absolutely nothing.

Bob is too deep in the virtual world. No sense in him can be spared to tell him something’s wrong. Ever since he has his new noise-cancelling headset in place, no knock has ever made its way into his ears. How is it possible on earth that the knocks are not going away, but are instead getting louder and more annoying?!

It’s so annoying that Bob’s concentration on the fight slips and his opponent’s blade punctures his body. Sorrowful and regretful music follows. And then he sees his princess weeping in despair…

‘FXXX! WHAT’S THE MATTER?!’ Bob basically roars. He’s extremely mad that when he stands up he knocks his chair over.

Bob’s originally planning to jerk open his room door and storm at whoever outside. But instead he’s saved the trouble. That whoever is already in his room.

‘Who are you? What are you doing in my room?’ Bob demands, shocked but still mad.

The figure in white takes off his hat, holds it over his chest and gently runs his fingers through his hair. It’s a gesture so charming even Bob, being a guy, is stunned. The figure’s gleaming white, gleaming charm.

When the figure’s eyes settle on Bob the figure speaks. “Your time is up young man. What’s your dying wish?”

Bob is even more stunned. When he regains the ability to speak he starts to laugh. He raises his fatty hand and points his fatty finger at the man in front of him. ‘W… What?!’

Abruptly Bob’s laugh halts in the middle and his face contorts in anguish. Clumsily he curls and collapses onto the floor. His eyes widen in disbelief. Beads of sweat roll down his forehead and neck. Every part of his body screams in pain. It’s not the normal kind of pain. The level of pain is intense like fire, like really the hands of death are gripping him tight. In addition to disbelief, horror begins to fill Bob’s eyes.

Casually the white figure checks his white hat, the way one would do when he’s deciding if he needs a new one. ‘Any dying wish? Last chance.’

Somehow Bob knows he should say something. He’s told it’s his last chance. But last chance to what? To live? Or to merely say his last words? Under such severe pain, Bob cannot get his brain to think. “… The game… finish…”

Upon hearing that the white figure rolls his eyes. “OK. Bye.” At that, Bob draws his last breath.

And then the white figure resettles the chair knocked over by Bob, sits in it and reloads the game. Before long the last evil ninja is killed and the princess is rescued.

The headset is dangling in mid-air. While the end-of-game music is coming out of it, the figure in white takes out a tiny notebook, and a pen. In the notebook is his task list written. He flips to the page where the first name not yet crossed out is located. Satisfied, he strikes through the name Bob Ma.

It starts to rain. Putting his hat back on he leaves. He feels good. One more task accomplished.

……

What I’d like you to do now, is to read this story’s title again.

OK good. So now you probably know already.

The figure in white, is a death agent.

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A/N: It's late now and I should go to bed. Forgive me for not proofreading right now!

A/N2: I hope you give this story a lot of support and love as well! It gives me strength to work on my other unfinished stories!!!