Five Tales from Death

By H. E. Salian

"I am Death.

It's not every day one hears a story from one such as myself. Normally you only meet me once in your life. Or maybe a couple short times, if you are unlucky or have a weak heart. But even then I don't tell you stories…"

 

From tragic accidents to gruesome murders, Death sees it all and shares the tales of everyday individuals who meet him.

Death is a constant companion who has no favorites and shows no mercy, taking young and old alike. Despite his grim reputation, Death is not an evil force; he simply fulfills his duty as the inevitable end to every life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. E. Salian
• Release date: Oct 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223757726

H. E. Salian

H. E. Salian is the author of the series The Vis Remaining beginning with the book A Step Through The Empty. She lives in the Montana wilderness when not traveling or getting lost. In her free time, she enjoys hiking, welding, and many attempts at creating art.

Book preview

Story One

I am Death…

It’s not every day one hears a story from one such as myself. Normally you only meet me once in your life. Or maybe a couple short times, if you are unlucky or have a weak heart. But even then I don’t tell you stories…

So why am I bothering you? Mostly because you humans — yes, and you specifically — bother me.

I know, a being like myself, as old as the universe. Older than Life. What could bother me?

You would be surprised.

I always am. Surprised at you humans and all the antics you get up to.

But here I am, being distracted before I have the chance to be annoyed. I’m not starting this story correctly. Or, at least, not the way I meant to. (Communicating in your languages is so much harder than communication needs to be. Were you aware of that? No, of course not.)

Anyway… I will try again.

.

.

.

Let’s see…

It’s a lovely day. One of the last before summer turns to autumn. Today, I am following Luisa Martin on her way to visit her elderly parents at the hospital where they currently reside. Hospitals are not my favorite places to visit; too many people complain about how they don’t want to meet Death and how unfair it is. 

As though they know anything about fair.

This hospital, though, is right near an assisted-living home in a small town with nothing to do on the weekends. This hospital has mostly older people, and they are much nicer to meet. They so rarely fuss about meeting me.

Truly some lovely people in this hospital.

Lovely like Luisa’s father, Barley Kaminski. I almost caught up with him flying over Korea in 1950. And twice in ’51. And then in ‘53 too. That daft pilot is lucky to be alive after escaping me so many times over the years.

I am glad he did though. I’ve watched him over the few short years it takes for humans to live their lives, as I watch every living thing that has come close to meeting me.

Humans are such lovely beings…at least you are when you’re not being pompous about what’s fair and how I’m not.

Nothing I love more than when beings that live only a handful of years tell me — Me! — about what’s fair in life and death. Imagine the hubris…

But I’m getting distracted again.

We were supposed to be meeting Luisa. Or you’re meeting her; I’ve known her since she was oh-so-small and slipped in the bathtub. She almost met me then.

But now she’s grown and has a little rascal of her own, though I’m glad to say I have not met him up close yet.

Luisa seems to be here for a quick visit with her parents to discuss some bills, if the bundle of envelopes and documents she is gripping so tightly is any indication.

Luisa looks upset the moment she reaches their room.

Mom, please sit down.

Edyth Kaminski: another lovely human, I’ve known her since before she was born. Almost had to take her then, but she is and always has been a fighter.

Edyth smiles at her daughter but remains as she is, hobbling around the hospital room at her ever-slowing pace with the help of her walker.

Luisa is less amused than I am at her mother’s willfulness.

Mom, please. We can’t afford another hip surgery if you fall again. Not when you haven’t even been released from the first surgery.

Luisa, honey, leave your mother alone. You know the hospital will release her before me in a couple days.

Barley sits, propped up in a bed, exactly the way he has been every day for the last while.

Dad. Luisa raises her arms in an exasperated gesture and continues grumbling under her breath. Fine, do what you want. It’s not like I’m the one who has to take care of everything when you come back to my house.

Luisa closes the door and slumps into the chair furthest from either of the two hospital beds. Her dark circles and bloodshot eyes testify to the stress she is under even more than her uncharacteristic short temper.

I wonder if Barley and Edyth notice too. Neither says anything, but they share a small regretful smile.

They know. Of course they know.

Luisa doesn’t notice the sad smile. She straightens with a burdened sigh and drops the bundle of mail she carried on the table next to her.

The VA messed up some of the paperwork we sent in. Again. 

Luisa rubs a hand across her face before she leans forward to shuffle through the pile, looking for something specific.

They lost some of your war records and sent a notice that this hospital visit and the last one aren’t going to be covered. They said…ha — Luisa laughs with scorn — they said we owe them fees for some of what they covered last time.

Luisa grumbles something caustic under her breath. She shoves papers to one side or another as she keeps searching.

Barley frowns. The cough he had been suppressing while Luisa was talking breaks through and wracks his fragile body with the effort.

How’s your garden, honey? Edyth asks, smiling at Luisa.

Luisa blinks and glowers, confused at the sudden shift in topics.

Fine. Growing. She turns back to the papers and continues muttering. The dangerous plants are all fenced off again.

Edyth hums, staring into the distance before her mind picks up some other thread of conversation.

We met during the war, you know, or ‘police action’ as it was called, Edyth says, the thread she picked up being far from the present.

I enjoy the