Buzz… Buzz…

They wouldn’t stop blowing up her phone and this hair… she gave it one final yank before pushed both buzzes and tangles aside. There were more immediate matters to attend to. Didn’t really matter who waited impatiently on the other line or how annoying the clumps in her hair grew to be. It would all have to wait until she finished her business here.

The hallways were pitch-black but she had no problem finding her way around. She knew exactly where her business laid. Even before crossing the threshold, her “business” on the floor whimpered like a wounded pup. The door of room 306 was left wide open. It was obvious someone had been there before her. As she glanced in, the first thing to grab her attention was the annoying flickers coming from the bathroom lights. At the very instant she stepped into the room, the lights immediately steadied. In her presences, it was better to show no signs of weakness or she might just be the ‘death’ of them.

The pitiful man heaved himself across the room.

Half way, he crawled. The room wasn’t large so he didn’t manage to move very far before curling up in a fetus position. Her eyes rested on him for a few seconds with little interest before they scanned the rest of the room. She could clearly make out the trail he left behind. Blood soaked the carpets and stained the yellowish brown wallpaper. Few could have guessed it use to be white. Broken glass sprinkled the floor like shiny stars scattered in a crimson sky. It was absolutely beautiful.

She stepped a little closer. The man shuddered. He could sense an icy coldness building up behind him. Although he was afraid to see what it was at the door, he had no choice but to look.

It was a matter of life and death.

He pushed onto his back and gave a little yelp when his dark brown eyes met her light fey ones.

“Who are you?” The man could barely speak through his clenched teeth. You could tell he was trying too hard as the pain devoured him slowly. From the looks of things, he wasn’t going to last long. His eyes kept darting from her to the door and back again.

Instead of replying, she silently watched him struggle with the inevitable. A little more and it would all be over.

“Di-did they send you back t-to finish me?” This man was a talker to the end.

“Fitch.” Her voice was pleasant to the ears. A cold niceness unlike DTLCT’s sarcastic “what?” and “whatevers.”

“Please don’t take me away.” He pleaded.

She was no stranger.

“Must you put up a fight?” It didn’t even sound like a question when she said it. They both knew it was a battle he could not win.

“Your time is now.” As she spoke, someone crossed the threshold behind her. This time it was a man. In his hand he held a gun with a silencer attached at the barrel. He barged in and she stepped aside to make way. The man couldn’t see her. All he could see in front of him was a messy room with a dying man collapsed on the carpet at his feet.

He laughed at the sight. His voice was deep. “Looks like they got to you first, Fitch. My, my… never would have thought you’d be Fitch the Snitch. Hey, it even rhymes...”

Huh… another talker...

“I had no other choice, they-“

“Don’t give me that . After what you’ve caused, I’m very glad to be the one finishing you off.” He directed his gun at the dying man’s forehead. Fitch’s eyes widen as he watched. He couldn’t move. His muscles tightened anticipating the impact. All this time, she stood on the side watching with her phone still buzzing in her pocket.

No one heard her vibrating phone. No one heard the shot.

All other sounds seem to fade out except for the dying man’s last breath. She heard it loud and clear. It rang in her ear like church bells.

The other man returned his gun to the inside flap of his trench coat. He didn't spare another moment and walked out the door. He would bring death upon many more before his own time came.

“Take a ride with me, Fitch.”

No reply.

“Would you rather stay in this room? Would you rather stay attached to this life?”

No reply.

“Then I’ll be going first…” Despite her words, she held out her hand to him and felt that light touch. The touch she had been waited for.

Once outside, she dug her hand deep inside her pocket and pulled out the cell. An unknown number. Not what she was expecting.

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Is this how you always answer your phone, Cyndi?”

“It’s you.”

“Yes it is.”

“You never contact me through my phone. What's the special occasion?”

“Cyndi, why does it take you so long to answer your phone?”

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“What should I call you then? Sin? Death? The Blutonic Plague? It was your name after all and I’m quite fond of it.”

Cyndi didn’t reply.

“I heard you were having trouble with a soul. Now that’s funny.”

“Don’t make me come and shred those flimsy wings off your back.”

“Cyndi’s threatening me yet again, oh I’m scared to Death…”

She ignored him and continued, “What have you got for me?”

“The answer should be clear to you now. It is not his time.”

“But I want his soul!”

“Well obviously he doesn’t want you to have it.”

“I’ve received so many calls to collect his soul. What do you mean he doesn’t want me to have it? No human has ever resisted this long.”

“Maybe he’s not human. Maybe he’s an angel or a demon or a bunny rabbit.”

“He’s human alright. Always near death, that man…”

“But he doesn’t die.”

“That’s the problem.”

“Well that is your problem. I just gave you the call to say that there is nothing you can do.”

“You may be the Angel of Destiny and all but you know very well what it means to tamper with the universal balance. This man will die.”

“Yes but obviously not now. And I thought we were on first name bases… You should call me Wallace or at least Cal-”

She hung up before he could finish.

Her phone vibrated again. This time, the number wasn’t “unknown.” She recognized the number. How could she not? It was him… the man that wouldn’t die.

Hero, that was his name.