A creaking sound came from downstairs. The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs followed after. A knock on the door.

                “Who’s there?” Said a boy kind of worried.

                No response.

                “I said. Who’s. There?”

                The door was banged open revealing a tall figure in a dashing suit, smooth hair, a briefcase, and something hiding behind her back. She had a sinister smile.

                “You see, I’ve come for you.” Said the figure with a smooth, happy voice. Maybe too happy.

                “What do you mean ‘I’ve come for you?’” Said the boy backing up in the chair.

                The woman laughed, “Well you see… I’ve come,” she paused, “for your soul.” She said with a sinister smile. The boy was now even more scared by now seeing the object behind the woman was a scythe, one with blood covering the blade. It seemed to be made out of scorched bones, it had a fiery glow coming from the inside.

                “So, be a good boy and just come here and let me take it.” She said coming closer.

                “No! What did I do?” The boy yelled almost crying now sliding down into a corner.

                “You committed a couple sins.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

                “What did I do?” Yelled the boy hoping to wake his parents up.

                “Don’t even bother trying to wake your parents. I had at them.” She said twisting the scythe to show fresh blood on it. “Now, here’s what you did; you didn’t pray on June twenty-second, lied, and stole a cookie from the jar.” She said in a voice and did not want to say anything else.

                “Those are enough to die?” Said the boy almost laughing.

                “Yes,” she sighed and covered her eyes, “you see, I can’t let you live because God said so.”

                “God sent you?”

                “No. I came by my own accord. Now just come here, let me take your soul, no one will get hurt, except for you, and I can get on with my day.” She didn’t want to be at the boy’s house and just wanted to get on with her day.

                “No! Not unless you show me that God really does exist!”

                “Fine.” She pulled out her phone and showed a recording of a man sitting on a throne made out of clouds.

                “You see, I can’t go and collect souls, what would my followers think?” Said the man on clouds.

                “Fine. I’ll collet the souls, how many do you want again?” Said a voice that sounded like the woman’s.

                “How about five hundred ninety-six? That should be enough.” Said the man wearing a smug face.

                “Fine. Good day.” And the recording stopped.

                “Is that enough proof for you? If it is, that would be lovely because you have the last soul I need to collect.” said the woman looking at the boy wanting to be done.

                “No! I need this to be prov-” As he was talking, the woman took her scythe, and in the blink of an eye, sliced the boy in half and lifted the top half. Organs fell out and blood poured out.

“Sorry kid. I got a job to do.” She grabbed both halves getting covered in blood, heard screaming of pain come from her scythe, and vanished.