No longer was he sitting in an elevator. It was now a dark pit, an abyss. It was hell. An ethereal shadow was cast before him, ghastly. But not as unusual as the creature that cast it. Its hideous head was hidden by a loose cover to hide the monstrosity. Its emaciated fingers, clenched tightly on what seemed to be a scythe. A scythe covered with blood stains, each one telling a different story. As the beast drew closer, the muffled voices became clearer...

By pessimist, January 26, 2015.

Mustafiz Khan.


The angel of death was tasked with lighting the way to the dimension the departing soul would be bound to for their next life. For a human soul there were infinite paths. She had never yet lost a charge to the emptiness, the vast pool of the other entities that vied to be a God, for she was an ambassador of the only true God - one who can Create and Love. The angel was His channel, His connection to the earthlings, for all angels came from the human race in a time far into the future. All times were nothing but a vast puzzle to the only living deity, all of them important but not sequential in the way we experience them.

She appeared as human for she once was, ethereal yet almost tangible enough to feel. She radiated love, smiled and beckoned. She was quite simply the one no-one would run from, she was the one to take them "home."

By Angela Abraham (daisy), June 25, 2015.

Wherever I went I was followed by a shadow. I knew the time was near but couldn't accept it. I dared not look at the being itself but tried to figure it out slowly by taking in glimpses of it's shadows. There were magnificent wings, huge and bird-like, extending from it's back. I saw its glowing eyes in the shadow. The angel of death was here and i was about to die.

By Iman Malik, June 25, 2015.