Age of Death

Death sat in a chair facing the door. Once a mighty and fierce man, Death was now a short, plump, balding man with white wispy hair, and eyes as black as night. A cane rested peacefully against one leg. The chair, however, was a more terrifying sight than Death itself. A looming, blood colored throne with black claw-like arms that seemed to reach out to grab you if you draw too near. Death leaned back in the chair, struggling with short, wheezing breaths, eyelids fluttering slightly. He gazed ahead with blank eyes; ebony colored eyes chilling enough to make men's blood run cold. Small whispers emanated from the dark corners of the room, but Death ignored them. He gradually closed his eyes.

"Sleeping on the job again?" a voice chuckled.

Death sluggishly opened one eye.

"What job? There's nothing left to do." He replied.

"Nonsense." Said the voice.

Death opened both eyes and stared sadly ahead.

"I'm dying God. You know it."

"I know."

Death leaned forward cautiously and grasped his cane. He struggled for a moment, then stood up, the cane wobbling dangerously under the enormous pressure it withstood. Stepping gingerly, Death advanced towards a large fireplace at the end of the room, the dying embers inside casting a faint glow to his face. Centuries of hard work were outlined in the wrinkles of his face.

"How could this happen?" He questioned.

"Free will." God said. "Knowledge. I gave them the right to choose, and they chose to find ways to challenge us."

"Ungrateful."

"Not necessarily."

"How so? With their 'right to choose freely' and this 'gift of wisdom' they've won. I'm powerless. I can not take life anymore. I'm dying."

"Understood, but can you blame them? They feared you more than they feared me. Their dreams are filled with me, and their nightmares surround you. They fear what they can't understand, and they will never understand you. So they've found ways to resist you."

"Resist me? I'm yours, I work for you. They're resisting you too. How can you accept that?"

"I never said I accepted it. I said it was happening."

"What are you going to do?"

"I haven't decided yet. Maybe I'll do nothing."

"Nothing? I have a better idea. Give them to me. Make me strong again God. Give me back who I once was."

"What, like destroying the entire race of men?"

"Yes. Think about it, God. Their newfound technology hurts them more than it helps them. Medicine continues to save the lives that belong to me. Cryogenic labs practically mock the entire process of dying. Look at their suffering. Overpopulation everywhere you look. Too many mouths to feed and not enough food. And where is the food? The animals are dying, with no forests and trees to live. Their oxygen is running dangerously low, the very oxygen they need to survive. Why? Because they cut down their precious rainforests for progress. Progress. Their big exciting new discovery, the gift of enlightenment. The humans gorge on food, and are getting fatter and fatter. Crime rates are at an all time high. Hate is breeded from the womb. Mothers kill their infant children before the child can take its first breath of air. Children not old enough to walk are tortured, murdered. Look at where their wonderful knowledge has gotten them! Look at the astounding benefits! Their pride claims more numbers every day. The advantages of progress. Oh, technology! What a remarkable thing. Give me the human's lives, God! It's worked before. Last time, you gave me all but two. This time give them all to me! Start over, make new creatures. This time, limit their knowledge.