​

-The Push will listen to one man, and one man only, and it’s me. So you better do exactly what I tell you to do if you don’t want to alarm them.  

​

She led the way to a little room in the back, just beside the washrooms. 

She opened the door. 

Handkerchief was right behind, following her as she got in, and death was peacefully following them. He didn’t really need to be there, but he was curious.

​

The three of them entered the room.  

-He is in the next room. This is where we meet him. I’ll have to go knock on the wall. 

-Well than do!  

-He does not come if the door is open. 

 Handkerchief grabbed her by the neck. He was done being played.  

She gasped in surprise and tried to reach the hand around her neck. 

Death stood there. Watching. 

-I am getting annoyed. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now? 

-He needs the code. You don’t have the code. He will never come if he thinks that something is suspicious. I am telling you; everyone needs to enter the room. Or he’s going to know that something isn’t right! They are prepared, they would kill you in a second. If you want your money, you’ll make your men come in. 

Death could feel that something was sloppy. It could smell it. 

Handkerchief gave them the order, the man entered in the room, and shot the door behind them.  

-Now, GO GET THE PUSH!  

​

She smiled.  

​

-I am right here!  

The men turned around to try to open the door.  

-It’s locked!  

She was just buying time.  

-You’ll never have your money, Brandon.  

​

The explosion destroyed not only them, but it also took three blocks down and hundreds of lifes.  

That’s what Death had smelled just before, a strong and powerful decision to die. 

​

The explosion wasn’t finished yet that it was already at work.  

It took the time to guide every single soul that the journey had just ended back to where they belonged. 

​

It was important for it to do it properly, even after millions of years and trillions of souls.  

Every soul had it’s most profonde respect and deserved to be properly guided and cared for. It enjoyed doing that work. Being there for them, at that crucial moment.  

​

Even after so many souls, it was still fascinating to see their vitality, their desire to thrive, their love, their own selves.  

Death still cared about the souls.  

​

And then, there was only one soul left to collect...  

Death did not want to go collect her.  

It wasn’t ready.  

The soul was, but not him.  

Death was not in charge of this type of thing.

It had to. It had to go.  

​

It actually planned to save her. After it saw that she was going to be there, that she was going to die, it took the decision to oddly deviate all the bullets coming her way. So that she would leave, alone and probably traumatized, and would go back to a very peaceful and boring life. Where she would marry, have kids and die very very old, it would have gave death years to get ready to face her again.

 

But it misjudged her.  

​

She was pure chaos and femininity. She wouldn't simply be.  

It had to face her again. And it had to face her now.  

​