He removed the man’s head with the rusted knife. The progress was slow, more of a slog when he got deeper into the muscle. He put his hands into his work and ripped it off with his own strength like opening a chest.

  Death loved it entirely. The disgusting pop and squelches of his vertebrae crunching, his skin ripping, his oesophagus snapping like rubber. The sounds gathered a mumbling crowd outside the curtains.

  Time for a show, he thought. I will kill every soul in this tavern.

  Death sauntered out with the head raised, a severed hand shoved into the lifeless gob with fingers facing outward.

  “Good evening, gentlemen and ogres,” Death said, shaking the head as a handshake. “I have an offer for you all. One I suggest you don’t take. Axes, swords, crossbows, put them down, you may all see tomorrow’s sunrise. Is a slaughter what you wish? I am very good at granting wishes.”

  Snow hid behind Death like a shield, clenching her fists and peeking over his shoulder.

  He placed the head on the bar and slid it toward the fish-faced bartender.

  “What do all you jolly, red-faced baboons say to my proposal? What does your wisdom impel you to do?” Death continued. “Are you prepared to part like a whore’s legs and grant me and my companion safe passage, or must I cut a path myself and stain my boots with more blood?”

  “Gimp has only got a fuckin’ dagger,” one shouted. “Someone sprint and fetch the guards! We’ll have him dead by the time they’ve came through; we’ll cut off his face and see if he’s got a nice juicy bounty on him.”

  “A wise choice,” Death smirked. “Stay behind me, Snow, leave the fight to me.”

  “You’re the one with a weapon,” she squeaked. “I’ll just kick any that fall over and scream if they come from your behind.”

  My own personal watchtower, Death thought. Perfect. I shall slay these inconsequential shallow swimmers, tis a mercy on them to put an end to their lowly purposes.

  “The woman has bloody teeth!” one yelled. “She’s a witch, she will cast curses upon our town if we don’t drown her!”

  Death beckoned them and twirled the dagger in his skilled hand.

  “Come then,” he challenged.

  The bravest amongst the drunks proved themselves to be the greatest of fools, announcing their attack with screams and raising their sword above their head like an untrained child.

  Death stabbed him in the throat and took the sword, ripping out the man’s tongue from his newly cut second mouth, throwing it into the face of the second brave attacker, slashing open their stomach and releasing the red eels onto the tavern’s wood floor.

  These nations will fear me as they once did, Death thought. One drained soul at a time… they will kneel.

  For his power to work, the people need to die, not cling to their lives and praying for miracles. He cut the head off the gutless one with a swing of the sword, then put his bloody blade through the tongueless one crawling on the floor like plunging a shovel into dirt.

  Yes, let that fear take you, Death thought. You are no match for me, even at my lowest, my skill with weaponry exceeds all.

  He felt stronger; but only a little. He killed five more with ease after deflecting their strikes, then killed a sixth by grabbing her hair and blocking the shot of a crossbow from a boy barely a man, whom he made his seventh soul taken by ripping the arrow out the back of the corpse’s head and burying it into the lad’s eye socket.

  “I think you’ve killed enough!” Snow yelled. “Why not give me one, huh? You’re taking all the glory!”

  Claimed by bloodlust from tiny gains of power, he couldn’t stop the hogging of the thrill. Another life, then two, then three, taken in under a second from two throats cut by a stolen axe, and the third from slamming it into the neck of a peasant who wasn’t fighting, only sitting drunk on a stool, enjoying their food.

  He released a roar of boastfulness, raising his wounded hand, healed without scar. The first thing he did with it was break the jaw of the fish-faced woman, whom Death claimed looked prettier with the injury.

  He tossed her chunky body into a table; she fell flat at the mercy of Snow’s feet and cowered.

  “Please!” she begged. “I don’t want to die!”

  Snow kicked her in the nose, then stomped on her head until it popped like a pus-filled melon.

  “Fuck you!” she shouted at the corpse. “I’m not a witch!”

  Can’t have all the fun… Death thought. I’m willing to sacrifice a little bit of power gained just to see her feet get dirty. I’ll crush every one of you, become more powerful than when I was sealed, I will not stop until I am the only strength in my world.

  Death was shot in his right shoulder-blade with an arrow. Snow gasped, trying to rush to him, but an armoured soldier knocked her cold with a pommel strike to the side of her skull.

  Three soldiers in standard iron armour and chainmail rushed the doors, joining the fourth who dragged Snow behind them.

  I must get to her. My life is at risk every moment I do not protect her. Damn you, Snow, you’ve put both our lives at the mercy of fate.

  “A bloodbath,” one muffled. “That peasant wasn’t lying about the viciousness of the act here. Well hang this one. The white-haired bitch, she’s long overdue for her acts of common thievery. Hang her too. Get them to the dungeons.”

  “You dare put an arrow in my glorious back?” Death said. “Do you have the faintest of clues who I am?” He threatened them with his axe, raising it like a sword. “You should bow to me! I am a king! When I wear my crown, I shall remember the faces of those who stood in my way!”

  “Think he’s had too much to drink, reckon he’s got a bounty on him?” one guard whispered to the other. “Nice big pool of gold for a man who does something like this.”

  “I don’t recognise him, shame, just a rogue knight I’d bet, wife probably birthed another man’s child and he took his rage out on the poor drinkers. Drop the axe, criminal, justice awaits at the end of the rope for you.”

  Death snickered. “You think you can—”

  A woman Death thought he had killed slashed his heel deep into the bone with a dagger. He didn’t yell in pain, but he buried the axe into her skull so deep it would take two men to yank out. He spat on her, then fell as his tendon tore when he tried to take a step.

  This cannot be my end, my conquest hasn’t even begun, Death thought. Sealed for ten thousand years and dead in a day? What a cruel, unfitting end.

  “We’ll hang him them in the morning,” one said. “Knock him out and drag them to the dungeons.”

  “You will not knock me unconscious; I cannot be rendered to such an embarrassing state—it’s impossible.”

  They knocked Death to sleep with a vicious kick.

  “Idiot,” they chuckled. “This one thinks they’re a god. Get these two in one of the deep cells. No food. Clean this mess.”

  Death awoke to the scent of dampness and rat shit, shackled to the wall. Skeletons, cobwebs, and a hole to shit and piss in, which overflowed with decade-old, petrified droppings from dozens of previous prisoners. Four stone walls, an iron gate to his left, unable to be seen through due to the awkward angle of his constraints.

  Snow is not in this cell with me, Death thought. I must break free from this and hope they haven’t tied a rope around her neck.

  He pulled against the chains, too weak to snap them. He kicked the wall, trying to tear them out the stone, still nothing. As a last method, he released his grip on the chains and pulled with all his might, breaking and severing his thumbs on the handcuffs to free himself.

  He crawled towards them and picked them up, wiping the muck before nibbling on his own flesh for energy.

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  Would be a waste, he thought. I will need everything for this.

  With blood still leaking, he tried to bend open the bars to fit through. After failing, he punched it until his fingers and knuckles broke in several places.

  “You should stop that,” Snow giggled, leaning against the bars of the cell opposite. “You’re hurting yourself, silly god.”

  “You heard my struggles and didn’t think to alert me before I broke both my hands?” he shouted. “Why did you stay silent?”

  “Aw… did you care so much about me you were willing to break yourself to try and save me?”

  “I care about my own life,” he hissed. “Have you forgotten that our souls are so closely tethered by the rope of your wish?”

  “Out of us both, they’d hang you first, you’re the one who did all the killing… I just stood back and watched my handsome, strong, sexy man do all the hard work while I imagined myself licking him clean of blood and rewarding him with the warmness of my mouth.”

  “I have been awake minutes, Snow, you mean to tell me you’ve been aroused in this cell the whole time?”

  “It was the grunting when you were kicking that wall,” she said, blushing. “Made my mind have plenty of daydreams.”

  “There is no time for that, Snow. No cell can hold me; I will kick this gate of iron off the hinges.”

  “Have you looked at your foot?” she asked. “Your heel is split open like a mouth, you’ll bleed out, how’d you even walk from your chains to the gate?”

  “Injuries do not bother me.”

  “Don’t lie, I heard you hopping on one leg.”

  “I am the conqueror of nations; I do not hop.”

  “I command you—”

  “How dare you,” he interrupted. “You call me a liar?”

  Her mouth hung open, teasing him with the sentence.

  “Fine,” he admitted. “I hopped from my chains to here, are you satisfied with your truth?”

  “Very,” she whispered. “Did you have fun at the tavern, hm? I saw your smile, made me tremble at how cute it was.”

  “Do not call me cute, that is insulting. I killed thirteen people.”

  “Twelve,” she corrected. “I killed the fish lady.”

  “Ah, yes, it’s your fault we lost then. Surely, I would’ve cut through those armoured pigs if I had that extra bit. I need a fresh kill to apply some healing to my wounds, and then we can fight our way out, find the scarred man at Fool’s Lake that the shrimpy-postured man told us about.”

  “Won’t need to fight our way out,” she assured. “Only one man patrols these cells, the rest just wander about Sekoi. We’ll be gone like ghosts if we get out.”

  “You know this how?”

  “I’ve been here before,” she said proudly. “So much so that I always get put in the same cell. Nice and tidy in here, no shit, no piss, no skeletons. I have a comfy bed in here, just had a nice nap.”

  “How pleasant,” he huffed.

  She blushed and seductively teased one of the iron bars like it was Death’s cock.

  “This counts as the privacy of four walls and a roof. I could pull up my shirt and show you some motivation to get to me.”

  “At my highest power I could destroy this whole putrid town with a single snap of my fingers. Motivation is not what I need.”

  “Death,” she giggled, squeezing her breasts between the bars and pulling her shirt down, exposing her small cleavage. “Be my good little conqueror and give my chest some love.”

  “Do not talk to me in such a condescending way.”

  She squeezed them even harder; Death finally saw a reason for his motivation. Slipped between boob and cloth, he saw the shine of iron, a key.

  “I did say I was good with my hands.” She took the key out and waved it. “Nice and warm my tits, you should be thanking me for finding us a way out while you snored all the way here. You shook the floor with those monstrous growls.”

  “I do not snore.”

  “Mhm, if you say so.”

  “How did you get the key?”

  “Oh, you know, the standard… throwing myself into the arms of the knights with feigned tears. Oh, woe is me, please find mercy in thy gentle hearts, do not execute me! Some begging, a hand brushed against their cocks to weaken their attention, a ripe situation to pluck the key from their pocket.”

  “Give it to me,” he demanded. “Toss me the key.”

  “You don’t sound very thankful.”

  “I am thankful. Give me the key.”

  “Say the words,” she teased. “Say… thank you.”

  “Thank you,” he forced through gritted teeth.

  “Say my name.”

  “Thank you, Snow.”

  She licked the key from base to tip then tossed it to him. Before he could unlock his freedom, the loud scraping of gauntlet against stone echoed through the dungeon. He hid the key in his sleeve and glared at the torch-holding guard patrolling the cells.

  “Just you two and some third thieving cunt here tonight. Should be a quiet night,” he said. “Don’t you be giving me any bother. Justice waits for you in the morning.”

  “Why don’t you come in here and fuck me?” Snow said with a moan. “I’ve never offered before… I’ll reward you deeply if you let me out of here.”

  “You crossed the line, Snow,” he said. “Joining the likes of a killer like him… a rope is where you belong. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Use the rope to tie me up instead… rip off my clothes. Keep me as a pet whose only purpose is to pleasure you. Come on, one little quickie to show I’m serious.”

  “I can’t help you, Snow,” he said, getting close to the bars. “I listen to the orders of my superior. She’s adamant it’s time rid the streets of you... I’ve convinced them to let you go dozens of times already. This time the crime is too dire to even suggest it.”

  She reached through the bars with a pout and rubbed the bulge on his leather. “Are you sure,” she whispered. “Think of it… your cock nice and warm inside me, think of how each thrust would have the wetness of a virgin… don’t you want to know what my moans sound like, how it feels to put your hands on me? You know you want that.”

  “That does sound nice,” he admitted, getting closer. “You are a naughty little criminal, so desperate… I’ve never seen you like this when in these cells. I don’t want to make promises, Snow, the odds of this working are low but I’m willing to try save you.”

  “A girl has to do what she has to do to live,” she said, teasingly taking off his helmet and putting her hand in his hair. “Sometimes a girl just has to be a distraction…”

  The guard turned to see Death standing inches away. He had carefully unlocked the door in complete silence.

  “You’re the one who knocked me cold,” Death remembered. “I doubt you’ll be recognisable when I’m done.”

  The guard reached for his hilt. Death head-butted him and then squeezed his head through the thin gap of the door, cracking his skull in the process. His screams were agonising, eyes popping out the sockets and dangling like acorns on a string.

  Snow laughed at him, punching him in the face, then a sadness took her heart as the man began to weep.

  “I was only doing as I was told,” he cried, slurring every second word. “Snow, why would you do this to me? My mother is sick. please look after her, she can’t live on her own.”

  “No,” Death said. “I will find her and kill her too.”

  Death pulled the sword from the scabbard and aimed for the killing blow at the back of his neck, barely able to hold the sword from all the broken fingers.

  Snow felt guilt, immense guilt, and she hated that she did. She ordered death to stop, and he obliged against his will. She then gave the order to free his head from the gate without killing him, which Death did, then freed her from her cell.

  “He will only keep on suffering,” Death said. “Did you want to make the kill yourself? Rescind your command, Snow.”

  “I feel bad,” she whispered, holding her belly and feeling sick. “He has been nice to me each time I’ve been in this cell…”

  “Should’ve thought about that before seducing him. You saw me coming, watched me crush his head between the bars, could’ve ordered me to stop at any moment.”

  The guard was in agony. He barely looked human with how his skull was malformed, eyes wonky, bleeding from every hole on his face. Death didn’t understand how he was alive.

  “Kill me,” the guard begged. “It hurts.”

  “Or leave him alive,” Death suggested. “I will get the power regardless. I quite enjoy his displays of suffering.”

  “Help him,” Snow pleaded. “Just this once. I will never ask you to help anyone again, we can kill all others… I was so eager to make you smile and impress you that I overlooked how this guard was the only man to ever show me kindness, even if he was a little aroused by my temptations.”

  “Snow—”

  “Just this once!” she begged. “Please, Death, in our new world, this man will be a good and loyal servant.”

  “Is this a command?” he asked.

  Snow nodded her head.

  “I barely have power as I am, Snow,” he huffed. “But I must obey the command. Guard, raise your hand.”

  He took the guard’s hand. The power of Death’s gifting gave the man more than half the strength he had drained from the brawl. His skull and jaw rebuilt themselves, eyes sucking back to their homes, handsome once more.

  Snow caressed Death’s face from behind. “Thank you, Death, I will never ask you to do this again.”

  “I’m going to live?” the guard said, touching his own face. “Oh, thank you… how did you do that?”

  “Use your second chance wisely. My companion has a soft spot for you in her heart.”

  “I like it when you call me your companion,” she whispered. “I love being by your side.”

  “You have your uses,” Death admitted. But your commands of me are proving to be annoying. He took the guard’s scabbard and belt, wearing them. “These are mine now. When the other guards ask what happened, you tell them I spared you as a kind gesture.”

  The guard nodded and stayed sat silent, still in disbelief.

  A loud yawn and bang interrupted their conversation. A bald, skinny man stretched an arm out the adjacent cell. “I’m hungry!” he yelled. “Need food! Need water!”

  Death looked at Snow, then at his own broken hands.

  Fate is playing with me, Death thought angrily. I have always hated the idea of fate weighing on my decisions… but a soul is a soul, I will rebuild my hands.