CHAPTER 37: FROM NOW ON, I’M THE DEATH HUNTER

Follow me... A cold, eerie voice creeps into my mind, making the hand more and more tempting despite my initial refusal. The stench of rot coats my tongue, so real I almost gag. My fingers twitch toward it again, but I freeze just before touching bone.

I glance up, and those hollow sockets blaze with a ghostly blue light, sending my head spinning.

Now then, pop quiz! What happens if I grab Death’s hand?

Answer 1: I follow him to the afterlife, and the novel ends. Answer 2: I gain supernatural powers and become Death himself. Or Answer 3! I disappear from existence entirely.

Leave your answers in the comments, dear readers.

As for me? I’m not about to find out. So let’s do something stupid today.

I slap the hand away, and to my shock, the hard bones splinter and clatter to the ground.

"You need some milk—your bones are way too soft," I blurt out, half from surprise. Wasn’t this supposed to be Death itself? My fear starts to dissolve. The truth settles in: this thing isn’t nearly as terrifying as it looked. In fact, it might be the weakest opponent I’ve ever run into.

The skeleton staggers back a few steps, and a cheeky grin spreads across my face.

"Come here, let’s talk a little," I sneer, dragging myself forward across the forest floor. The closer I crawl, the more it seems to recoil, as if it’s the one terrified of me now.

"What’s wrong? Not entertained?" I roar, voice breaking into manic laughter. The skeleton fumbles, dropping my scythe with a dull clunk before fleeing into the trees, clutching the broken stump of its hand.

Did... did I just hurt its feelings?

Who cares. At least I got my scythe back!

Though... I feel like I’m forgetting something important here. What is it?

I prop myself up with the scythe, its aura strangely familiar in my hands. Around me, the sounds of battle return—the beasts are still at each other’s throats, clawing and tearing until only one is left standing. But something gnaws at me. What am I missing?

Then it hits me.

"I had to kill that thing to leave this place!" I groan, smacking my forehead. My quest! I completely forgot about it. Which means... I’m stuck here for another twenty-seven days.

"FUCK!" I roar a little too loud. Instantly, silence falls behind me. Every sound of the ongoing battle cuts out at once.

"...Well then. I should disappear too," I mutter, gripping the scythe like an old man’s cane and hobbling away. When I say speed off, what I really mean is limp pathetically, stumbling every few steps like a drunk grandpa. The pain in my ankle only grows sharper the further I force myself, the rush from my death encounter wearing off and leaving me fully aware of how broken my leg actually is. Definitely not the most pleasant sensation in the world.

If only I had my quill... it’s so unfair.

I manage to find a quiet spot and collapse against the bark of a thick tree, praying the beasts don’t catch my scent. Not that it should matter, the whole forest already reeks of blood.

My eyes drift to my leg. The bone juts out grotesquely, and I can’t help but laugh through the pain. "Never in my life did I imagine this happening to me..."

My hand rests on the ground, but then I feel something cold, thin, and... Hard? I freeze, my fingers brushing against it. Slowly, I glance to the side.

Behind the same tree, a skeleton sits slumped, staring straight at me. Our eyes lock.

"AHHH!" it shrieks, the sound like wind howling through a broken flute, and tries to yank its hand free.

"I’ve got you now..." My voice drops into a low, sinister growl I didn’t even know I was capable of.

"Let me go, you monster!" Death’s voice is... off. Low, yes, but I could swear there’s a hint of something feminine in it. The skeleton yanks its arm with surprising force. So hard the hand actually pops free before it bolts into the shadows again.

"Hey! Come back here! I won’t hurt you! At least it won’t hurt when I kill you—probably!" I call after it, laughing like a maniac. This is entertaining. After days of being the punching bag, I finally get to be the bully.

But... is that really Death? Could it be that weak? Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s just some random skeleton. Then again, when was the last time you saw one of those strolling around the forest? Exactly. I’m not wrong.

"If not for my foot, I’d be running you down already..." I mutter, stooping to pick up the severed hand. A strange energy seeps from the bone, crawling up my arm. It’s eerie, yes, but also inviting, whispering promises I probably shouldn’t listen to.

"I might have just hit the jackpot. If I can harness this... imagine it. Enemies losing their focus, their will, just long enough for me to cut them down."

With a grin, I shove the hand into my pocket like it’s a lucky charm, then push myself upright, limping after the creature.

From today on, I shall be known as Quill, the Death Hunter! ...Sounds cool, right?

My scythe doesn’t make me faster, but the thrill pounding in my chest makes me forget the pain of the past days. If I can just land one clean slice... maybe I’ll finally escape this nightmare.

The clatter of bones echoes ahead, spurring me to limp faster, but then—silence. The world shifts. A biting cold seeps into the air, blue mist curling up to my knees. From within it, the skeleton emerges once more. Only now, a black hood drapes over its skull.

"Really? You ran off just to go dress up?" I blink, half in disbelief.

"You have offended me, mortal. Today, you shall die a horrible death. Face me in battle in my domain. If you win, I shall let you go!" the voice echoes, ghastly, but... not exactly brimming with confidence.

"That’s what I wanted to hear. Even on one foot, I’ll subdue you! I’ll kill Death itself and walk free!"

The tension thickens, the air heavy with promise. The battle I’ve been waiting for is finally here.

Next Chapter: Quill versus Death! Place your bets now!

...Nah, just kidding. But seriously—wish me luck. I’m going to need it.