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Mmmmm....the lead singer reminds me of someone...just can't put my finger on it!

;)

~And now it's too late, for me it's too late.

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Everything was perfect. I had my alarm on my phone on while I lay down on the bed, waiting for the washer machine to go off. The cloak had picked up some of the dusk from the plastic container it was in and I figured it would like a nice wash. It was a friendly gesture of kindness, almost a peace offering towards this ‘Death’ character.

As I lay on my back on top of my neatly tucked in comforters I couldn’t help but wonder why he needed the cloak so badly and why he dropped the cloak at my house in the first place. He had made it clear he wanted me to put it on as well as the words, “See the deal your mother made with me only fourteen years ago.”

I swear, that man was as sketchy as it came.

“FA-ITH!” Marcy yelled from the other room. “Our laundry is done!”

My breathing hitched. Our laundry? But I had only put the cloak in the washer machine! Would it even matter if she added her clothes to the wash? It wasn’t like she was going to pour some bleach into—

Marcy appeared at archway of my bedroom door with a purple towel wrapped securely around her hair and a green mud mask along her face.“Here’s you blanket,” she said, throwing a white piece of clothing at me.

I caught it easily, my eyes wide in shock. My fingers brushed over the slightly warm material with foreboding. “Oh no, oh no, please no,” I muttered, my hand clawing around the material in search of a specific area. Everything’s alright Faith! It’s not what you—

My hand found the opening of the hood. I swallowed a large, dry lump in my throat before opening my mouth and whispering, “Oh my God,” I held the fabric up to my face, my heart racing. “It’s—it’s…”

“White?” Marcy asked, her eyebrows raised at my strange reaction. “Yeah, that’s kind of what bleach does—“ “THE CLOAK IS WHITE! THE CLOAK…IS WHITE” I burst out, shaking the material in front of me. I jumping off my bed with the material in my arms. I let out a small yelp when I realized the material felt heavier, and flimsy, almost as if it wasn’t…alive anymore.

Marcy yawned, stretching her arms out to the ceiling. “It’s just a Snuggie, relax. I have to get up early in the morning, cya.”

I flashed a tight, furious smile at Marcy as she left before flopping backwards onto my bed. “I’m dead,” I concluded, hugging the cloak to my chest like a safety blanket. I hopped off my bed and began walking down the hallway into the laundry room to find some sort of solution. My eyes frantically moved around the shelves for something I could use. Finally after minutes of panic I stepped away from the shelves with my hands to my head. There was absolutely no solution to un-bleach the cloak.

I was dead.

There are no other words to describe the big pile of steaming crap I just got myself into. I bleached the Grim Reaper’s cloak. I’m so dea-

The lights flickered. It was only a small motion but had a huge impact on me. Without hesitation, I moved from the freezing cold tiles of the laundry room to the hallway’s wooden floors. “What the…” My eyes glued to the tan wall lamp at the end of the hallway. It continued to flicker as if going to its own beat, followed by a deep, solid hum.

I told myself something was seriously wrong. The lights of the hallway flickered to a blinding brightness until they went out completely surrounding everything with darkness. Unable to move, I took shaky breaths trying to calm myself. What is going on? Why can’t I move?

A soft blue light extenuated from behind me, basking the back wall of the hallway with light. A small, tempting voice told me I had to turn around. My feet unglued themselves from the wooden floor and I deliberately turned towards the light source.

I put my hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream. A giant white cloak in the shape of a man floated out of my room, the sleeves brushing against the wall as it moved. A blue orb glowed from the center of the material creating the blue streams of light.

My heart thudded at a new beat as it slowly made its way into the kitchen, ignoring my shaking form in the hallway. Had it not seen me? The head moved back and forth as a solid hum echoed off the walls.

I horrible feeling seeped into the pit of my stomach as I realized what it was doing. With wobbly knees I followed it from only feet away, watching the cloak slowly levitate to the front door towards the dark wooden cross. It outstretched its arm, sending a beam of light towards the door, it’s humming becoming louder.

It would let him in.

“NO!” I shouted, covering my mouth quickly afterwards. The cloaks head whipped towards me, it’s blue orb brightening with anger. I backed until I hit the kitchen table my arms out in front of me. “STAY!” I told it, as it crept over to me, it’s humming sounding more like a scream than a song.

Before I could take another breath the cloak flew towards me and knocked me to the ground. It wrapped itself around my head, cutting off any hope of oxygen I had and pulled itself over my body. I tried to pull myself up onto the table, at the same time trying to pull the cloak off of my neck. It slowly tightened itself against my small figure. The ending material pooled around my feet, the hood completely draped over my face. I was blinded by the clothing and stumbled to find my equilibrium. A cold swirl of wind crept along my bare feet, crawled up my legs, and spread throughout my chest and lungs as I struggled to reach for help. My screams were muted. The soaring pulse in my chest was at its fullest; my breaths were in short pants and sweat poured down my face. I continued to try and escape the cloak but it was like being in a large straight jacket.

I fell to the ground and my body starting to spasm. The lights of the kitchen flickered on and off, the walls shook with a tremendous amount of energy. The floor seemed to bounce from underneath me.

The cloak’s humming ended abruptly as I rolled over on my back to face the ceiling. Instead there was a dark sky, with dark storm clouds zipping past the moon. Understanding that I was no longer in my apartment, I sat up in a fog to see that I was situated in a dark parking lot. The scene seemed to be in fast motion, cars parking and unloading people, and then leaving as the owner returned with groceries until it became morning. The market was familiar, since it was the where my family got our food growing up. It was small, but had all of the necessities.

“It’s just a dream,” I told myself, turning 360 degrees around the area. Then why does it feel so…real?

A grey vehicle caught the corner of my eye. I turned to see the driver park only feet away from my position. Their hair was a wavy look to it, cut short at the neck in a stylish way. They fixed their blouse and opened the back door to carry out their child, whose hair was a lot curlier than the mother. The girl seemed to pout as her mother turned to get a nearby cart, her hand pressing against her stomach.

I frowned, and started to walk towards them like a robot. As the mother came around the car once again my jaw dropped. “Mom?”

She picked up the little girl, not even flinching at my call. The younger me ‘wooed’ as she sat in the shopping car, and hit the bars of it, her body bouncing with excitement. “Mommy, push me!” she screamed, having a voice that was a few octaves higher than my own. Her eyes were large, light blue, her chubby cheeks slightly flushed from the warm air.

Mom got in a ready position as if to run, her eyes locked onto mine. I giggled in anticipation. “One…..two…three!” They sped down the parking lot, weaving towards the entrance of the market.

That’s when I saw him.

My eyes locked on a crouching figure on top of the market their head following my mother and my younger self’s retreating form. I recognized them instantly since they wore a black cloak. The hood was down, revealing a black beanie, and he gripped the edge of the roof with leather gloves. As I quickly neared the market he stood to his full height, seeming to look in my direction.

Tires screeched from behind me. I turned to see a white van come to a haul right behind me. I let out a scream and jumped out of the way. The man in the driver’s seat was fumbling around the car, giving both the passengers and the back seat hand gestures as if describing something. The back door of the van opened and a man with a gun came stumbling out, a gun in their hands.

I starred wide-eyed, as five of them ran into the store.

“Damnit, light already,” a voice growled from behind me. I whirled around at the familiar voice, my heart in my throat. The hooded man had their hand over a lighter trying to light a cigarette. The wind continued to blow it out so he chucked the lighter down the parking lot with a hiss. “You’re no better than a match.” He turned in my direction, leaning against the wall casually and lifting his wrist to his face as if he had a watch on.

As I readied myself for him to notice me a gunshot pierced through my ears as well as a woman’s scream.

Mom.

I ran through the automatic doors as quick as lightening, my whole body in panic. Would she be shot? Was someone else shot? Could this possibly not be a dream?

To the left I saw a girl all dressed in black flat on the ground with a dark stain on her back. I stared at her for a long time trying to soak in that she had been shot. My eyes roamed around the scene to spot each of the masked men’s position. Three of them were digging through the money drawers of the registers, one was watching the door, and the other one had a gun to my Mom’s head.

I was gripped by the armed man by one of his arms, my own arms secured around the center of my stomach as I shook.

He my younger self on the floor and pointed the gun at my chest. “WRONG ANSWER,” the screamed, before nailing me right in the stomach. My little head went back painfully against the tile and the teddy bear that was clutched in my chubby hands flew out of my grasp.

My mom screamed, tying along with my own as I clutched my stomach. I stumbled over to the little girl, tears in my eyes as pain erupted from every inch of my body. The girl twitched; sweat forming on her forehead as mine currently was.

Am I really dyeing?

I looked up to scream for help, but it got stuck in my throat. “What do we have here?” the hooded man asked, stepping over the unmoving form of the shooter. His tone was almost cheerful, despite the horrible situation.

My mom continued to sob in hysterics, staring widely at the man. "Are--you--are--are--" She stopped, returning her blue gaze to my dying form. "Please....don't," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I know who you are."

"Really? What gave it away? Was it the cloak or the scythe? I'm taking a survey." He cleared his throat at that unnecessary joke. "So, are you cremating?" he asked casually, his black covered arms.

I went to curse him out but instead stared at the little version of me who was coughing up blood. My eyes widened with fear. If she died, would I die?

The hooded man made a gesture with his hand."I have..." The rest of his words I didn't catch, as my vision wavered back and forth. It sounded a lot like; “I have a very busy schedule as you may assume. People die constantly really, it’s annoying.”

“How long?” Mom asked, her watery eyes locked on my dying little form.

He tilted his head towards the floor. At the angle it looked like he was not only looking at the girl, but looking at me also. Chills crept down my back as he turned back to my mother and whispered, “You're in luck. I’m prepared to make you an excellent deal.” He tilted his head to the ceiling as if to think it over. "Well, excellent for myself at least."

“Leave my family alone!” I managed through painful gasps. The pain in my stomach had only increased as the scene played out.

I am Death, yada, yada let’s get to the point. I will graciously give her life, if you offer me a single promise. Shake your head yes if you understand, human.

My mother started to nod her head frantically.

“What?” I burst out, looking from him to my mother, to the girl bleeding out on the floor. “Why are you shaking your head? Get me the hell out of here before he does—“

Once she turns nineteen years old I will seek her out and take her in as my own, his voice hissed inside my skull. I clenched my teeth, not wanting to hear the rest of what he was going to say. I will check on her every Halloween and every birthday she has until she is old enough to live and take care of herself on her own. If you tell a living soul of our agreement you will endanger her life even further, plus I will personally come after you and your family until none of you breathe my air, starting with the chubby child. He motioned to the limp little girl on the floor.

That little...he called me fat!

She stared wide eyed at him as he added that last part.

"That...doesn't answer my question at all," he said after a long pause. "Yes or no?"

“Anything, please just save my baby!” she burst out, clutching the small child on the floor. I felt tears come to my eyes as I realized just how much my mother needed me.

I jerked my head up to the hooded man to see him grinning. The bottom portion of his face was revealed, showing a tanned chin and slightly pink lips. He leaned down and before I could see the rest of his face I got a hard kick in the ass. Literally.

“Enjoying the show, little bitch?” a voice sneered from behind me. “Sorry you have no popcorn I know how much you are enjoying this.”

I turned to see a tall, muscular man, with a leather jacket and faded blue jeans. The t-shirt he had on pulled up as he stretched lazily with his arms over his head, and revealed tan, chiseled abs. He suddenly pointed behind me, his shadowed face tilted towards me, “Ha-ha, look your first kiss and you were passed out, how classy.”

I moved my eyes back to the scene to see him leaning over the girl, his hood over the girls face. A blue light burst from his cloak, covering the girl lying on the floor. When he lifted his head there were black veins crawling up the girls face like spiders. I let out a yelp as they crawled into the girls hair, turning everything they touched black.

“Oh…my—“

“God!” a falsetto voice finished, into my ear. I got a small whiff of cigarettes, mint, and an expensive cologne. I turned over weakly, making him situate himself until he was over my body in a push-up position. “Just so you know, I personally love your hair black and if you ever change it I will be devastated. It makes you look like... ” he said casually, his hot breath tickling my cheek. He pulled at the shirt I was wearing. "It's worse than I thought, I'll have to take note of that."

I looked down to see I was wearing a shorter version of the white clock.

“Hmm, looks familiar, eh?” I put my head back against the tile as he started to stroke my cheek to get away from him. He moved his fingers through my hair, humming out loud as the cloak had did. “Now you know why your hair is so lusciously black,” he started, doing fast push-ups as he added, “I…own…you…Faithy…Poo.”

“You wish.”

“Do I?” He stopped his pushup midway. “Hope you like water, baby. Cause one day I’m going to drown you in your tub and it’s going to be amazing,” he said, continuing to work out. “Really, I just can’t wait.”

“Not if you can’t get in my house,” I said with the nastiest tone possible. “You will never get in my house no matter what contract you have on me.”

“Don’t have to.” I could sense his wide, arrogant smirk from underneath the hood. “I have my ways of finding you. Just haven’t done it—“

“LEAVE ME ALONE,” I burst out, staring at one of his hands that were situated by my face. I refused to look at the black hole where his features should be. Did he even have features? Did I even wantto see them?

I didn't.

I slammed my eyes shut as if it would make the situation better. The pain in my stomach had had disappeared. Nevertheless, I had continued to sweat profusely in the heavy cloak. The air shifted and for a moment I was so exhausted I felt myself become weightless. I’m overheating from the cloak.

“I don’t know how you wear this,” I blurted, as I opened my eyes once again. Instead of seeing his shadowed face, I saw the dark ceiling of my kitchen, and the bright white cloak I was wearing. I sat up gently and looked around the shadowed room for any sort of figure. An object clattered to the floor in my periphial vision and my eyes darted in the direction. The cross.

I stumbled across the room and hung it back onto the wall with shaky hands. After securing it I backed up and pushed my sweaty hair back from my face before taking off the cloak and glaring at it for all it had just put me through.

Well, that was by far the strangest experience of my life while wearing a freaking toga.