Free Whispers of Death by Alicia Rivoli

entirely of some type of black shimmering stone. I searched the room, looking for a way to escape.  On the far side of one wall I found a tiny hole with an even smaller amount of light shining through.  I bent to get a better view and saw on the other side a dark figure holding a large silver-edged blade atop a beautifully carved wooden handle.  He held it carefully away from his body, almost as if he were afraid to touch the blade.
        The image changed again, and this time I was back in my own living room, surrounded by even more spirits.  Death released my mind, and I collapsed on the couch.  I gasped for air.
        "What was that?" My voice cracked and came out as a whisper.
        "That was my mind," said Death.
        I took another deep breath, trying desperately to calm my wildly beating heart. "Why have you shown me this?" I whispered.
        "What you have seen is the death and burial of a mother.  She was hospitalized after a car accident.  You witnessed as she took her last breath, as her husband said his final goodbye, and as she said goodbye to her daughters before pleading with me to relieve her pain."
        "Then why didn't you give it to her?  Why couldn't you take away her pain?" The anger was clear in my tone.
        "The next image you saw," he said, ignoring my questions, "was of Fear holding my most prized treasure."
        "Why didn't you help that woman?" I said, not caring about his most prized treasure, only why he didn't give relief to that poor mother.
        Death stared at me; I thought I saw for a moment a flicker of his own pain inside his black eyes. "Fear has taken my power, and you must get it back."
        My heart stopped. "Fear?  How can Fear take away your power?"
        The dark eyes of Death grew darker, and an image flashed through my mind.  A dark figure laced in shadow holding a large silver blade atop of a wooden handle.  The same image I had seen earlier.
        "Fear has taken hold of the hearts of humans.  It has become so powerful and so prominent that it has begun to take on the shape of man.  The image you see is that of Fear, and he has stolen my most prized possession."
        "The world has so much fear that it created life?" The question was mostly rhetorical, but as I said it aloud I realized I sounded completely insane and waited for Death to answer. "How can humans have created a living Fear?"
        Death moved around the room.  There were spirits everywhere, some following him, pleading. Others watched me, pain etched on their darkening faces.  None stayed for long before being replaced by new Spirits.
        "Humans have created Fear from many different things.  War, murders, dishonesty, pain, sin, sickness, money, power.  All have, in some way, caused someone to fear.  When you have so much fear resonating from person to person, a part of their soul gets lost.  That small piece of soul begins to seek another host, unable to survive on its own. It finds only other parts of peoples souls that are also full of fear.  They cling to one another, and Fear is born.
         "Fear is a human?"
        "No. Fear is not human.  It is not a solid form, but it has become so strong that it can now move and think for itself.  It knows that with more pieces of soul, it will become stronger."
        I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, but I chose to ignore it. "How can Fear take something from you if it's not a solid form?" I asked. My phone buzzed again in my pocket.
        "You need to answer that," Death told me. "Your son needs you."
        I inhaled sharply and grabbed my phone and quickly answered.
        "Hello?" I said
        "May I please speak with Mrs. Sable?" said the voice on the other end of the line.
        "This is she," I answered.
        "Mrs. Sable this is Ms. Cathy from the front desk at Glendale school.  Your son Hunter has had an accident on the playground." Her southern accent filled my ears as she