For lack of a better way to spend time, I had started to write. A short story here, a little bit of gibberish there. It had ceased to give me purpose, but what else was I supposed to do? I had forgotten that there was more to life than writing when I’d tried to make my bargain. Now all I had left were words that ultimately signified nothing. I didn’t dare explore around the den, I was sure to come across something I shouldn’t and get in trouble. I couldn’t imagine the kind of dark secrets people like Death built up doing a dirty job for centuries, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel hungry, and I doubted I would ever again. I didn’t feel tired, not that I had a place to sleep even if I was. Even if I hadn’t sold my soul, I wouldn’t have been much better off because the only thing that had really changed was my perspective. I’d sold my life for a cheap imitation that would last forever, and I knew if I didn’t do something soon I’d go crazy.

I glanced up from the typewriter and looked around, lingering on the door for a second. Maybe I could leave for a bit and wander the spirit world. No way to get back though, not as far as I knew. What I really needed was company, never in my life had I felt such a great need to talk to someone. And not just anyone, but someone normal.

I pushed my chair back and stood up. Pain may not have been there, but my legs were stiff like blood hadn't been flowing to them in a while. My legs dragged as I walked over to the door. I put my hand on the knob and waited a second before knocking.

"Hello?" Came a confused voice from the other side. The door opened into Hope's room. "Why did you knock?"

"Just making sure you're... you know... decent." Hope laughed. I was actually more concerned about walking in on something worse.

"There's no privacy in this house, there aren't enough people here for there to be any private business between us. You might want to get used to it."

"So you wouldn't mind if I walked in while you were changing?"

"I change behind a divider," she gestured to the back of her room. "Back there. But no, I wouldn't mind." I had asked the question rhetorically, but she didn't seem to have caught it. Unless she did and she was actually...

"Not to be rude but is there any particular reason you stopped by other than to ask that?" I was glad she had spoken up before my thoughts could wander off.

"Yes, actually." I didn't exactly know how to phrase it. "I’m... well, I need to do something. Anything. I and I mean anything. Do you have anything I can do for you or do you know of anything that needs doing?"

"Sorry Al, I hate to disappoint you but there really isn't anything to do here besides what you get hired to do. Except for talking really, but there isn't much fun in that." Hope sighed. "Now you know why I begged to get out."

"Wow, only a few hours and I'm already wishing I'd let myself die."

"Hours?" She seemed surprised. "You've been here for three days. You need a clock, or a calendar or something." My jaw dropped a little bit.

"That reminds me, could you go get Amy from her room real quick? I kind of forgot about her, tell her I'm sorry for the extra day."

"Why do you want me to get her?" I was getting suspicious.

"Because you can't feel pain." She pushed me back out of the doorway and closed the door with an impish smile on her face.

I put my hand back on the knob and opened it again to Amy's room. The lights were off but from what I could see it was surprisingly well furnished. I hadn't expected Amy to have decent living conditions, though if she had been around a while it was possible that she and Hope hadn't always had the same contempt for each other. That or their mutual contempt and Amy’s furnishings could be completely unrelated.

"Amy? You in here?" There was no response. "Or did you leave?" I didn't realize how stupid that sounded until I said it. "Forget I said that." I turned to leave but something on the floor caught my eye. A little red spot on the otherwise pristine white carpet. My hand fumbled around the wall for a light switch and came up with a gas lantern hanging from a hook on the wall.

I turned the lamp on, illuminating the rest of the room. That was when I saw Amy… on the floor… slumped against the wall furthest from the room. I dropped the lantern and froze just long enough to see the danger in dropping a contained fire on a carpeted floor. I picked up the miraculously unbroken lantern and rushed over to her body. The handle of a knife was sticking out of her chest and there was a pool of blood on the floor so big I would have been surprised if there was any left inside her. I set the lantern down on a nearby table and knelt down beside her. I got the feeling Hope had done this, but why would she kill her victim of torture... unless she’d gotten a new one. In which case I was screwed.

In an instant self-defense had become a primary objective. I didn’t want to end up like Amy. My eyes were fixed on the knife, the only real weapon I’d seen in the den. I tentatively grabbed the handle and pulled it out slowly to avoid further damage. The blade was longer than I had expected and covered in red. How had this knife done what Amy had said Death couldn’t? It looked so plain, but there it was... covered in... It was completely clean. I wiped my finger across the blade but it was dry. The blood was just... gone. I looked back at Amy’s body. The pool of blood was moving back up into the stab wound leaving the carpet as pure and white as the rest of the room. In seconds the wound was gone leaving behind a scar, but she was still unconscious. I dropped the knife and shook her shoulders with no result. I put my fingers against her neck to check for a pulse and felt nothing but another scar. Curious, I rolled up her sleeve to check for a pulse at her wrist, nothing but more scars all up her arm. This had to be normal for her and it must have been going on for years, decades. How she was still normal and sane was a mystery to me.

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Amy inhaled quickly and lunged forward making me jump back. Her hand reached out in a quick motion for the knife, grabbed hold of it, and stuck it into my thigh. I collapsed against the table with the lantern on it, causing it to fall over and the fire to go out. In the dark Amy somehow managed to find the knife and stomp the blade deeper into my leg and pin it down to the floor. It had all happened so fast there was no possible way I could have avoided it, and at that moment I realized why Hope hadn’t come herself, and I was very grateful that I could not feel the pain in my leg.

“Any last words?” Amy hissed sadistically.

“Yeah,” I grunted as I tried to pry the knife out of my leg. “Ouch.” I couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the terrible joke.

“Al?” She sounded horrified. “Why were you in here?”

“Hope told me to get you.” I gave up on the knife. “She said I should go because I couldn’t feel pain.” I found myself laughing again as Amy picked the table back up and turned the lantern back on.

“I am so sorry.” She was hovering over the knife helplessly like she didn’t know what to do. I knew first aid, but I wasn’t sure if the same things applied anymore, not that I could apply it to myself if I couldn’t get the knife out.

“It’s fine, I don’t feel a thing.” I reassured her. “It’s not like it’s gonna kill me right?” She still looked a bit panicked. “Right?” She didn’t respond. "Please tell me that this isn't going to kill me, because this would be an embarrassing way to go after all that's happened."

"You won't die, it's just... I want to help you myself but I don't think I can."

"Then get some help!" I was getting worried with the growing pool of blood around my leg.

"Uhhh... I'll get Hope." She stood and ran to the door leaving me alone and still pinned to the floor.

"Oh...Kay... I'm bleeding on the floor, all alone..." I half sang trying cope with the shock of what was happening. The door opened again.

"Wow..." Hope whistled. "Remind me to wake you up on time the next time I kill you." Hope slowly walked closer. "You didn't try to take the knife out?"

"Amy hammered it down into the floor." I said giving the knife a flick and it wobbled a bit, probably widening the wound.

"Well I don't know why you got me first. I'll get the doctor." Amy cringed at the suggestion. She was avoiding this doctor, otherwise she would have gotten him first.

Hope walked out and Amy grabbed hold of the knife.

"You might want something ready to use as a compress before you get it out."

"Sorry, I'm not used to dealing with real injuries." Amy grabbed a sheet off of the large four poster bed and tossed it to me. It was covered in dust.

"I gathered. I suppose you're grateful for that, immortality's the best way to keep the doctor away." She frowned as she grabbed hold of the knife again.

"I don't like him. It’s a personal thing." Amy grunted as she yanked on the knife pulling it loose.

"Sorry about your carpet by the way. I don't think I can put my blood back." I laughed as I wrapped the sheet around my now free leg. “But since it was you that stabbed me, I think we’re even.”

The door opened again and a taller man stepped in behind Hope. He was old, older looking than Death at least, and wore a lab coat over khakis and a tropical looking shirt. He was carrying a bulky looking satchel which he tucked under his arm as he wiped his glasses clean.

“What have we here?” The doctor’s voice was thinly laced with a German accent. “A corpse bleeding out on the floor?”

“Still alive here.” I grunted.

“Of course you are.” He mumbled as he kneeled down. Amy stood almost in sync with him and backed up. “Take this dusty rag off so I can see the wound.” I unwrapped the sheet and showed him where the knife had torn through my leg and jeans. He took a pair of medical shears from his bag and trimmed off the leg of my jeans. “And this goes all the way through?” I turned my leg carefully to show him. “My my, someone has a temper.” He looked up to smile at Amy. He had the same yellow smile as Death, only he somehow managed to make it look sickening instead of terrifying.

“So how many stitches is it going to take?” I asked, trying to regain the doctor’s attention.

“None.” He said simply, turning back to me. “You get a non-commercial brand adhesive bandage.” He reached into his bag and took out a large square adhesive bandage. He pulled the plastic off the back and pressed it onto the gash. It hissed and dissolved on my skin. I began to hear a faint whispering voice as the bandage disappeared, leaving behind no trace of a stab wound other than the blood that had already escaped. The doctor put a second bandage on the exit wound and the whispering grew louder as it dissolved.

“What’s that whispering sound coming from?” I asked over the humming whisper.

“The bandage contains pure fragments of dying souls, what you’re hearing are their last thoughts.” The doctor sighed as he stood back up. "It’s in your head, but it shouldn’t last long.” They were already fading as he stood to address Hope. “He’ll be fine, the bandages should replenish some of the blood he’s lost but I don’t think he’ll notice much of a difference.”

“Thank you Felix.” Hope had a similar look of dislike towards the doctor but managed to tone it down from Amy’s disgusted look.

“Any time, although hopefully not too frequently I was planning an extended vacation when you called.” The doctor made for the door like he wasn’t in a hurry and gave Amy one last sickening smile before leaving.