Chapter 1: Did He Just Call Himself… Death?

I was standing in the middle of the forest near my house. I was sweating heavily, even though the temperature during nighttime was unnaturally cold.

My hands were trembling as I was holding an almost empty lighter. Every time I tried to light it up, the evening breeze would repeatedly extinguish the flames as if purposely trying to thwart my plan.

In frustration, I threw the forsaken object that was supposed to bring peace to my soul. In the end, it only caused me more turmoil.

"For Heaven's sake!" I stomped my feet. The small twigs underneath my feet cracked with the force of my feet.

I could hear the loud chirp of insects as if they were trying to drown my voice. The air smelled of the gasoline that I poured around the forest.

"Why won't you cooperate with me!? Even this stupid lighter doesn't treat me with justice! This isn't fair! You don't have the right to do this to me! All I ever wanted was just to be…" My voice failed me.

The sobs that I was trying so hard to suppress escaped from my lips. If this was a normal situation, I would've been mortified at myself for cursing out loud.

But that didn't matter anymore; sanity has left me long ago. Pathetically, I fell to my knees as the leaves flew everywhere.

"Happy…" I laughed in a cracked, forced voice that didn't seem like mine.

Tears streamed down my face. The hideous combination of my sobs and hysterical laughter and the choir of insects singing a song that only they could understand echoed throughout the peaceful place.

I could barely keep my eyes open. They were puffed up after crying for so long. My eyes felt painful and couldn't produce any more liquid. I sat silently, staring at the ground with nothing else to do.

"Someone..." I whispered. "Please help me…"

I snapped my body when I suddenly heard the leaves rustling behind me. "Who's there?!"

There was someone behind the shadows, and it was watching me. My body shook in fear, and my eyes widened in terror as the figure started to walk towards me. I then found myself standing a few steps away from the intruder.

The figure was wearing a long black-hooded cloak that covered his whole body, and the hood cast a shadow on his face, so I couldn't see who it was.

'What if this person smelled the scent of gasoline and was here to stop me?!' I thought to myself as I stood there in trepidation.

"No! You can't stop me!" I screamed. "I will never have another chance to do this ever again!" In desperation, I ducked down and felt for the lighter that I had thrown a while ago.

An insane smile spread on my face, and my fingers immediately spun the spark wheel. As if agreeing with me for once, it produced a small flame.

I sighed in relief and laughed at my triumph. I smiled as I looked at the small flame that gently swayed with the wind, and when I had enough, I let the small container fall on the grassy forest ground.

But before the lighter could leave my hand, I felt an indescribable pain when something suddenly hit my hand and blew out the fire. I shrieked in agony as I realized that a sharp heel was piercing through my flesh. I couldn't help but sputter a set of colorful words as I felt blood oozing out of my hand.

Another scream came out of my mouth when I realized that my plan had failed once again. The anguish was stabbing through my heart and soul. I just wanted it all to end.

Finally, the person stepped aside. I pulled my hand, and the lighter fell from my hands. Now, it was stained with crimson blood. I held my bleeding hand tightly to stop the blood from pouring out.

"What are you doing?" A deep but somehow gentle voice asked. It probably came from the intruder.

"Applying first aid, you bastard!" I hissed.

He smirked. Even under his hood and in the forest's darkness, I could still see a hint of smirk.

"Isn't that ironic?" He chuckled, sending shivers down my spine. "Why would you feel bothered by such a minor wound when you were about to burn yourself and this forest for selfish reasons?"

Add something in here to break the dialogue, like a description, a narration or a dialogue from the other character.

"Don't you know, dying from fire is one of the most painful methods of suicide, and yet you're here, making a fuss with something so small?" He spoke again.

He knelt on the floor, taking the dirty container with his gloved hands.

"And this," Now that he was closer, I could faintly see how this person looked. "Why would you use an almost empty lighter? Are you going to make an excuse that it was the only thing you found in your house? That's bullshit."

He slowly stood up and looked at the container one last time before he threw it towards me. The lighter hit my face, and I could already feel my cheeks throbbing because of the force behind the action.

"This thing is cheap. You could've bought a new one from the store around your neighborhood, and they wouldn't ask a thing because they don't even know you. Because you're such a pathetic shut-in."

He slightly bent his knees and patted my head. I felt disgusted as those hands touched my hair, but then, after a while, it turned out to be a bit comforting.

"You never truly wished for Death, right?" He added.

I gasped loudly, insulted by his words. In reflex, I slapped his hands away. He chuckled and slowly retracted his hand. He stood up and moved a few steps away from me.

"I do!" I replied indignantly. "Never have I ever wanted something this bad in my entire life! You don't have the right to tell me that because you don't understand what I'm going through!"

He laughed. It was a laugh only dedicated to something funny. He was really amused at what I said, which made me even more annoyed.

"Don't worry, Miss. I knew that you longed for Death to such a high extent. I was only messing with you." His blood-red irises glowed under the moonlight, just like a cat's. "Because if you didn't, you would never even see me in the first place."

Chills ran down my spine after hearing his cryptic message. "W-w-what do you mean…?"

"Lo and behold," He removed his hood, revealing a pale white face. "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. I am what you are seeking for; I am Death."

He had the palest and clearest skin I have ever seen, free from blemishes or beauty marks. You would consider his face "handsome," with high, sharp cheekbones that could cut you up like a knife and a jaw that could last for days. His nose was well-shaped, like a statue from those art museums. While his lips were thin, not in a bad way since it perfectly fit his face.

Aside from his bloody red eyes, the other weird thing about him was his silvery hair that reached his shoulders. It didn't make him look old, instead, it made him look inhuman. Then, something dawned upon me.

Wait, did he just call himself… Death?