Prologue (from the perspective of Death's servant)

My body quivered vigorously. Heat seemed to vanish quickly from my being. A sense of bitter frost shackled my feet.

“What is happening to me?”

Two black hollows that held no eyes stared down at me.

“What is going on?!?”

I wrapped myself with my arms and looked at him frantically. He wore a large green cloak, latticed with whitby-jet stones and amethyst. He leaned against a horse so thin and pale-green, that I had questioned in my mind if the animal could breathe.  Sprouting from the figure’s back was a set of six fine-feathered wings of dark gray.

“Answer me, Death!”

I collapsed to the floor, my knees shaking; heavy ‘frost’ was leaking into my lungs and slightly weighing me down.

“Why are you surprised, dear boy? You sold your soul to me, and so I will do whatever I want with it.”

I gasped for a large cursing rage, but the oxygen was gone. Some sort of burning substance began to disintegrate my skin. My vision blurred; my heart’s pulse began to slow down. Darkness seemed to be coming from all angles, consuming my humanity like a pile of meandering serpents.

What have I done?