Surprise:

 

     Amara now overcome with great age and riddled with sickness laid on his, well he lost count of how many times, death bed. For more than 500 years he has been imprisoned in the land of the living forever to be reborn fully conscious of his infractions that led him to this point. As he labored, he reached out towards the darkness calling out for his siblings and even Death herself to come to his aid. Many times, he called for them, and every time they were deaf to his cries. Tears filled his eyes, as he felt the hold of this life departing and next one ready to snare him before his current vessel succumbs. Why? Oh, why did he think it was a good idea to steal another soul’s clock? He’d only just wanted to know what it was like to live in the mortal world.

 

            Death stood in her great hall festooned with several clocks of varying style. These clocks represented both mortal and immortal souls, all of which that have been expertly handcrafted by herself and her sister, Life. Most of the faces remained out of focus, a sign that a being’s time has yet to come. She and her reapers heard Amara’s cries, in fact they have always heard him, but they never been able to reach him for Death’s sister, Life, has never permitted the clock he currently possesses to come into focus in her hall. This was Life’s punishment for Amara’s infraction and warning to other reapers not to interfere in her affairs or else. Death understood her sister’s anger, and accepted the terms of the punishment only to a point, 500 years was long enough. Death reached out and touched the face of the clock, and her reapers watched in amazement that the face became readable and Death slowly faded from view.

 

            Amara laid in his chamber listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall that was mounted somewhere in the shadows. Life certainty knew how to add insult to injury. He turned his gaze out the window as he awaited his inevitable rebirth only to find that there stood a figure silhouetted against the moonlight. His blinked multiple times and pinched himself for good measure to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming, but it was Death. Tears of joy filled his eyes as he looked at his mistress. Before he could say one word, Death placed a single finger on his lips. In that one motion he understood that she was there to save him, but that he would not able to return as a reaper for Life was never going to release him willingly and will forever hunt him. He slowly nodded as he gazed into her deep green eyes and she lifted her soft finger his mouth and she bestowed her delicate kiss. Amara then closed his eyes for the last time as he felt Death embrace him with her velvet robes and he was gone.

  

 

Suspense:

 

 

Death stood in her great hall festooned with several clocks of varying style. These clocks represented both mortal and immortal souls, all of which that have been expertly handcrafted by herself and her sister, Life. Most of the faces remained out of focus, a sign that a being’s time has yet to come. Death and her reapers stare intently at one clock in particular as soft cries began to release from its face, but the it refused to come into focus.

 

The cries came from Amara, who was now overcome with great age and riddled with sickness on his death bed. As he labored, he reached out towards the darkness calling out for his siblings and even Death herself to come to his aid. Many times, he called for them, and every time they were deaf to his cries. Why did he want know to what is was like to live as a mortal? Tears filled his eyes, as he felt the hold of this life departing and next one ready to snare him before his current vessel succumbs. For more than 500 years he has been imprisoned in the land of the living forever to be reborn fully conscious of his infractions that led him to this point, and Death accepted the terms of his punishment.

 

Death and her reapers always heard Amara’s cries in blurry faces of the clock he possesses, but Life never allowed their faces to become clear enough for his fellow reapers to reach him. Death understood her sister’s anger, and had accepted the terms of the punishment only to a point, 500 years was long enough. Death reached out and touched the face of the clock, and her reapers watched in amazement that the face became readable and Death slowly faded from view.

 

Amara laid in his chamber listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall that was mounted somewhere in the shadows. Life certainty knew how to add insult to injury. He turned his gaze out the window as he awaited his inevitable rebirth only to find that there stood a figure silhouetted against the moonlight. His blinked multiple times and pinched himself for good measure to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming, but it was Death. Tears of joy filled his eyes as he looked at his mistress. Before he could say one word, Death placed a single finger on his lips. In that one motion he understood that she was there to save him, but that he would not able to return as a reaper for Life was never going to release him willingly and will forever hunt him. He slowly nodded as he gazed into her deep green eyes and she lifted her soft finger his mouth and she bestowed her delicate kiss. Amara then closed his eyes for the last time as he felt Death embrace him with her velvet robes and he was gone.