υѕernaмe: ~Teya~
naмe: Gwenevere
gender: Female
naмe: Gwenevere
gender: Female
I've lived a long, long life, and I've done many, many things I regret. But I will never apologize for what I've done.
Hello, my name is Gwenevere.
I watch over all of the creatures on earth, I have never slept a day of my existence.
When someone thinks about me, they picture darkness. It is the only way of describing it; because they cannot envision me, it is, indeed impossible.
No one knows when I'll be coming for them, and perhaps, that is best.
They think of what happens when they finally meet me for the first and only time; there are few that escape my hand once I take hold. And even they cannot evade me forever, even if they have succeeded once before. Everyone will meet me in the end, be it better, or for worse.
You can run, and you can hide, it doesn't really matter one way or the other. But sooner or later, I'll begin to close in.
It's alright, don't be afraid. It all has to happen to us someday. Well, except for me of course.
I am the embodiment of despair, fear, and doubt. You doubt the day I'll come to take you away, you refuse to see the truth. If you ponder about me too long, your heart rate will steadily increase, and a cold shiver will run down your spine.
You fear me more than anything in the whole world, because you can never be sure what's on the other side. I am what pushes you to fight to survive another day.
Yes, I have been called harsh, cruel, unjustified, monstrous, barbaric, and evil. But the real hard truth of the matter is, I am what puts balance in this universe. Without me, there would be no real consequences in this broken world.
My name is Gwenevere, and I am an Archangel. But, you don't know the name Gwenevere as an Archangel, do you? My name is never mentioned, not in the Holy Book, nor elsewhere.
But, you will undoubtedly know me by my most common name: Death.
It's interesting how simply five letters can strike such fear into an individual. In reality, letters are just abstract symbols created by a group of smart creatures that are associated with the world around you; objects and concepts.
Who thought of the word ''Death'' anyway? Certainly not me, that's for sure.
But I'm getting a little off track . . . you're probably wondering how a single entity can wholly be, in fact, death itself.
Let me start from the beginning.
When the universe was created, I was also created. From the moment I was ''born'', I knew my purpose, and I have wholly accepted this is my destiny.
Before long I was needed, guiding the first souls of the innocent into Heaven where they would spend eternity. And the first souls of the disobedient into, well, you know -- Hell. You see, I do not actually kill anyone, I take their being, their 'soul', from them as they die. When that happens, they will surely die too. Without your soul, you are but an empty shell.
I have done this task since the birth of life, and will continue until the very last living soul inhales their final breath.
Sometimes I find myself pondering the meaning of life. Why doesn't everyone just die already? This earth is nothing but death,
in the end.
Now of course, I'm not the only one in charge of the dead, or more importantly; their souls. I have others to help me, but I'm the main ''reaper'' as you call us. I'm in charge of making sure everything runs smoothly and the souls go where they're supposed to.
But please, don't think of me as 'soulless' and unfeeling. Believe it or not, being Death isn't as easy as it would seem to be. You don't just take the soul of someone, allowing them to take their final breath, and go on your way to your next 'victim'. Sometimes I fool myself into believing this lie . . . but it is simply not true. I remember one, very distinct time, where this was not the case.
Red and blue lights shone on the paved ground and nearby pine trees as sirens blared almost deafeningly, the frozen over road in the middle of nowhere was unusually crowded; especially for this time of night.
Gwenevere stood silently watching over the happenings of the road, no one could see her of course, except for the one she had come for.
''My baby, where is she?!'' a desperate female voice exclaimed to another dark figure in uniform, as they calmly replied, ''don't worry Mrs. Rogers, we'll find your little girl,''
''I should've never let her go out on her own, she's only eight years old after all, it's all my fault.'' the female continued rambling, beginning to move away from the officer, shaking in the cold; the breath of both viscets was visibly seen.
Gwenevere sighed, glancing at the what must have been at least a dozen viscets surrounding her, calling the name ''Evelyn'' until their voice grew hoarse, as it echoed across the snowy sierras, with no answer.
Walking off the road and deep within the forest, only lit by a half moon that just barely managed to pierce through the trees, she strolled into the snow that raised well above the viscet's ankles, knowing exactly where she was headed.
The grave voices of the viscets slowly began to fade away as she traveled, finally coming up to her destination. It was almost time.
Without warning a large hole in the ground appeared, it was completely invisible until you were standing right by it, that explained a lot.
Jumping into the hollow, she immediately spotted a tiny figure faced towards the wall, huddled in the only stain of weak moonlight that could be obtained in the hollow, just a few feet away from where she stood.
Walking slowly over to the little viscet, she knelt. ''It'll all be over soon, don't worry,'' she whispered without emotion, barely even realizing she said the words. Gwenevere had said it so many times over the past centuries it was ingrained in her very being, she didn't even have to say it consciously anymore.
Reaching her arm out to touch the viscling, her eyes began to glow as her paw approached its target. The big eyes of the viscling gleamed in the new light, and suddenly the little viscling shot up into the air, screaming and backing away rapidly, falling a few times from her weak strength.
Gwenevere jerked her paw away, shocked that the viscling could even move, but quickly regained herself, taking a step towards them. ''This is for your own good, you'll feel no pain, I assure you,'' she'd said these words as well so many times, they were apart of her, almost like a prerecorded message.
''Wh-Who are you?! Get away from me!'' the viscling yelped at the top of their lungs, struggling to keep her balance.
''You're dying, and I've come to collect your soul.'' she replied immediately, unfazed by the visclings horror and confusion. ''Y-You're what?'' the viscling asked shakily, their legs beginning to give way beneath their child body. ''You're dying.'' Gwenevere repeated, just wanting to get it over with.
''I-I can't be, my mother, I'm all she got,'' Evelyn said slowly, shaking her head violently. ''She'll survive,'' Gwenevere cut in, attempting to sound sympathetic when she really wasn't, as she took another step closer.
''Daddy left us, I can't leave her too,'' the viscling whimpered, ''I'm all she got,'' Evelyn echoed again, a single tear running down her cold face, freezing before it even hit the ground.
Gwenevere took two steps closer, now towering over her. ''It's your time.'' she said, stone faced, her eyes glowing brighter as she knelt down to touch Evelyn.
''Wait!'' Evelyn pleaded, falling to the ground as she lost all her strength, Gwenevere could sense her heartbeat begin to slow. ''What?'' she demanded in noticeable annoyance, looming over her like a snake about to strike.
''Can you tell me a story?'' Evelyn questioned, swishing her tail slowly back and forth as she looked up at Gwenevere, who stared down at her in confusion. ''Why?'' she asked, baffled by the peculiar request.
''Because . . .'' Evelyn's voice trailed off as she got weaker by the second, shaking from most likely hypothermia, ''mother always did it before I slept at night, and well -- if I'm never going to wake up again, I want a good story.''
Gwenevere was silent for a long moment, contemplating what to do. ''Alright, but I'm not very good at bedtime stories,'' she warned, taking a deep breath as Evelyn's new smile grew.
Once upon a time . . . there was an evil sorcerer,'' Gwenevere began, ''ohh, cool!'' Evelyn cut in, noticeably shivering more than she was previously, as Gwenevere begrudgingly continued. ''He terrorized the nearby villages, sending dragons and his vicious henchmen to burn down anything they came across,'' again she was interrupted, as Evelyn asked enthusiastically, ''did he have w-warts all over his face and no eyes?'' Gwenevere raised an eye brow, shrugging, ''uh, yeah, sure.''
''Anyways, blah blah he terrorized villages and murdered countless creatures in the process, the end.'' Gwenevere finished rapidly, but Evelyn cut in, ''that c-can't be the end! A dashing prince has to come and save the day or something,'' with a sigh, she relented, continuing the story she had made up on the spot, ''after ten years of nothing but death and famine, a 'dashing Prince' from a faraway land came to save the day, slaying the sorcerers two headed dragon, and soon heading over to the big bad, dark and evil castle, on his shining white horse called Steve--''
''Steve? You c-call that a f-fierce warrior horse name?'' Evelyn said with a laugh, as her shivering stopped completely, and her eyes continuously opened and closed.
''I quite like Steve,'' Gwenevere confessed, laughing with her now.
''I c-can't feel my tail or my l-legs . . . c-come to think of it, I can't even feel any of me anymore,'' Evelyn said, still laughing, ''I think, I just need to sleep for awhile. Then I'll be just fine, just fine . . .'' her voice trailed off as she closed her eyes, not opening them again.
''Evelyn? Not yet, Evelyn, I didn't get to finish my story . . . you don't even know what's going to happen next,'' Gwenevere whispered softly, swallowing hard. She took a deep breath, ''Evelyn?'' she knew it was no use.
Hesitantly, she layed her paw on Evelyn's chest. Her eyes grew brighter until they felt like they'd burst, releasing the soul from the earthly body, and sending it on its way.
''It'll all be over soon, don't worry.'' Gwenevere murmured under her unsteady breath.
Word count: 1,800