Death (Patreon)

You find your self standing on a desert of black sand. Stretching off in all directions. Looking around, there is nothing. A moment passes and you hear a deep cough. 

You wheel around to see a figure. Covered head to toe in black robes. And as you slowly look up, the realization dawns on you as to who stands in front of you. Finally, within the robs, a grinning skull with softly glowing eyes looks back at you. 

"Mr Dantioch Harbinger... I'm sorry to say that your life has come to an end. I am here to escort you to your preferred afterlife."

In your head, you realise you have to play for time. At least long enough for your party to be able to resurrect you. 

"Err, very well, lord death, but before we go... can I ask you a question?"

Death sighs a little before saying "it's just death... no lord, Mr, master or any other overblown title.  What is your question?" death expected the usual questions... why am I dead? What's the purpose of life? Did I leave the oven on? A million different souls and always the same kind of question. 

Dantioch smiled a little to mask his unease, "my question is this death... of all the souls you have escorted. Who was your favourite?"

Death blinks, or rather, the glowing orbs in his vacant sockets darken for a moment. "That's new..." he thought for a moment. "There was one who stood out amongst all I have met across all the myriad worlds I tend, an author..."