I crawl through the dirt, the mist and grime. On hands and knees I creep ever closer to the great mosolium. I castle of death, centered around this vast and full cemetary. The stench of death perfectly mixed with the moisture of the air assaults my nose, overwhelming as it is, I continue on. Crawling passed graves and crypts. Each looking ancient and forgotten, dirty and barely legible. I see the faint glow of candles and I can feel my journey reaching its climax. I feel the presence of the great castle, the sense of a looming tomb, the home of death himself.

I think and reflect on my life, knowing all I know very well many end here. My wife, my daughter. I find strength to my resolve and continue on, I have to make it back to them. I cannot let them win like this. I recite my speech in my head like a mantra, it’s short but to the point. A simple request of Death. To return to the land of the living, my time can’t be up so soon. I can’t lose my family, abandon my family like this. I feel warmth trickle down my face while I crawl onward. The tears cloud my vision but I follow the candlelight, blurred as it may be. The impending feeling of the castle is so powerful, so potent in the air I could get there blind at this point. I briefly shift my attention to the headstones lining the great walkway, how many of these poor souls made this journey? How many actually convinced Death for a second chance? Is this all for naught? I shake my head trying to convince myself there is hope for me, I can’t give up without even trying to get back. I pause a moment to steady myself, calm my breathing, wipe my tears and then I continue on my knees. 



I reflect on my conversation with the gatekeeper, that hooded man that guided me to this journey. Remembering his words so clear it’s inspiring me to continue on. On bloody knees I move on towards the blurred candlelight, picturing my family in my mind to motivate me through to pain and sorrow. To see this journey to its end. To embrace my family once more.** **The man at the gate told me this would be my eternal resting place, to sleep here at peace just as each soul the passed has before me. I remember how desperate my pleas to return were, how pathetic I must have come across. But he reassured me all the same, I was not the first, I will not be the last and to seek an audience with Lord Death. To show humbleness and crawl to the very heart of his domain, his castle amongst the dead. I mustn’t stand, for that would be seen and rude and I surely would never see this journey end, my fate would be eternal walking to a place I could never reach. But if I stay true and crawl the entirety of the journey, he would see me, listen and judge fairly. He watches over the dead, the souls laid to rest, ensures they are cared for and at peace, but if a soul cannot find peace in death, and they approach him with respect and humility, he gives them a chance to plea their case to find true peace. Even rarely granting a second chance at life for those taken too soon.



Suddenly and immediate the mist begins to disapate, I can’t recall how much time has passed now, how long I’ve been crawling towards this place. But with now clear eyes I see rising above me, so high and grand I cannot make out the top. I see a grand staircase lines with ornamental bones, bejeweled and beautiful. Handrails made of femurs, interlaced tibias make the frame for the handrails. Each end post adorned with a pure white skull with sunken and black eye sockets. They do not frighten me, but give an aura of peace, of welcoming. As if inviting me to join them here forever. I shake the feeling and begin climbing the great stairs on my knees, the icy cold steps burn my raw knees. I hadn’t realized how accustomed to the jagged and sharp gravel walkway I’d become until now. The steps seem as if they rise too heaven itself and I feel my body growing weary, begging me for a break. yet I don’t give in, I am so close now, I can’t afford to take breaks. I shake my head and steady my resolve to continue forward, continue my assent to Death. 



It feels as if hours have passed up these stairs, and on they go. I feels my legs wanting to give out, my body wants to fail me. Yet I press on, pausing only for a moment’s rest. This has to be a test of some sort, a proof of my devotion to this task. I must see it through, I cannot waiver. My thoughts race only to continue to convince myself of this, to refuse to accept defeat here. I’ve come entirely too far to quit, to rest, to lose. And just as I feel myself stopping, as I feel at my limit, I see just a few steps above lays a grand door. “I’m here”, I weep, as I hurriedly climb the remaining steps.  Pausing to calm my breath, calm my nerves and prepare myself to meet Death. As I try to steady myself I finally realize I can smell a comfortable and familiar smell. the smell of my wife’s cooking, of our fireplace roaring and I swear I can even hear my daughter’s laugh. I feel tears begin to stream down my cheeks, overwhelmed with joy but suddenly ruined by the realization that they cannot be here, that I’ve made this journey to return to them back on Earth, not here in Death’s domain. Without drying my eyes I stand and grasp the heavy brass doorknob. I turn it and the door gives way, opening to a cold and dark hall, a throne stands at the far end of the room, and I hear his voice. “Welcome to my home. You’ve certainly earned your audience with me. Passing my trials, my tests, and holding true to your mission. Please come in and speak with me.” I step one foot into the cold room before it bursts into warm candlelight. Chandiliers lining the ceiling come alive with fire and I can see the beauty, the intricate design work of each molding, each groove in the hardwood floors, the walls lined with art I’ve never imagined possible. For a moment I am completely awe struck. How can a place so full of loss and death be so unimaginably beautiful? 



I step slowly into the hall, nervous steps echoing across the room. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, nerves so inhumanity alive knowing I will be face to face with Death in but a moment. The walk through the hall is short compared to the journey to took to get here, I almost try and slow my pace to procrastinate the meeting, to calm myself before gazing upon him. I see his figure, massive and grand. Adorned with a beautiful black cloak, a hood obscuring his face. All the legends and storybooks describe him as a skeleton the very end stage of our bodies. But mere feet from him now I can assure that is anything but true. His face is mine, identical to me in every way, his face is my wife’s and my daughters and everyone’s. I cannot put into words to describe him beyond that, a calm comfort washes over me as I see each loved one’s eyes stare back at mine. Not a shapeshifter mind you, more a void filled by memories. A void in a humanoid body. A reflection of life.



I bow deeply upon reaching him, awaiting his acceptance of my virtue. “Rise my dear fellow, rise and speak your story. How may I be of service to you?”. I whimper, the thoughts race, reflecting on my journey, reflecting on my mission. Reflecting to my family and my life. Each memory flashes before me, so fast I can’t enjoy it, there is no time to savor each beloved memory. “Please sir, you have to send me back. I have to go back to my family, they need me!” I beg, mustering the strongest voice my wreck of a body can muster. “Please”. I pause and await his response, yet no words come out. I look into his void of a face, at each of my loved ones faces reflected back at me, and sob. My voice cracks, as tears fall yet again. “Please, won’t you say something?!”. There is a pause broken by a deep sigh, “You’ve come so far, fought through pain, exhaustion, and maintained your resolve all this way. But you do not remember dear boy. You cannot remember for my kiongdom won’t allow it. Here all souls lay to rest, souls broken, battered, exhausted. Those are the ones you’ve seen on your journey here. Restless spirits, that this land allows peace, allows them to forget what keeps them clinging to life. And you’ve made it all the way here and deserve answers before it is your turn to rest.” Shocked and angry I yell, “I was told you could send me back! I don’t want to forget my family so I can just sleep for eternity!”. Another pause before he replies, “look into my eyes, and you will remember what brought you here”. I look into his void, my family’s faces disappear, only blackness, nothingness until a light shines. Suddenly I feel guilt, overwhelming guilt. This is it, the memory, the moment that lead to my death. The moment that lead me here. 



I watch through horrified eyes at the lifeless bodies of my wife and daughter. Killed in the car accident I caused. “I was distracted!” I cry out. But the memory continues. Watching as I turn right without fully checking, distracted by my favorite song on the radio, by my daughter’s voice singing along to it. Then blackness fades as I loose consciousness, hit, T-boned by a semi-truck. The memory comes back with me being gurnied away by the paramedics. Begging to know if my family is okay, while I see them being zipped into body bags. The last time I ever got to see their beautiful faces. Then blackness again. Recovering in the hospital with ease physically, because somehow I left the wreck with some cuts and a fractured rib. But the guilt was overwhelming. I went to grief counseling, to therapy, to drinking. Nothing helped. Nights I’d lay away, haunted by that memory, by that scene. The booze helped me sleep but only because I’d pass out. Until finally I slipped the noose around my neck to join them. I survived a whole year in hell, in my own self torture. Racked by guilt, self loathing and self hatred. An accident, but it was still my fault. 

“No..” I sob as I fall to my knees, the memories clear in my head. Quietly I weep to myself, bloody knees on the once again cold floor. The lights have dimmed and gone out now. Death stands from his throne and kneels beside me. “It was not your fault, being distracted is a lie you convinced yourself a long time ago. Surviors guilt they say. But that truck driver was high. He barreled into your car while you were safely stopped at a red light. The memories you saw just now were those that haunted you this whole time, but not the truth. Your untimely end however was real, and it brought you to me. Looking for them. Alas you cannot find them here, but you may rest with the memories of them, the happy and joyful ones. You’ll forget the loss and finally be at peace.” His voice soft and calming now. He extends his hand and I take it. Together we walk outside to see the vastness of his kingdom. And quietly we walk down the steps, now significantly shorter a trip. He guides me to my plot, my new home. Another resident of the kingdom of Death.