Episode 1: If it's your time... (Part 2)

Warning: This episode contains themes of death, emotional distress, and burnout.

"Y-You're not Mr. Lucero..." Ivory whispered fearfully.

The man smiled.

"Was there ever a Mr. Lucero to begin with?"

Ivory's eyes widened.

His face suddenly began to melt.

Like burning wax dripping from skin.

She stumbled backward in horror as his appearance slowly peeled away into something inhuman.

Tears blurred her vision.

Then the melting stopped.

A tall figure stood before her beneath the flickering light.

Dark robes.

A scythe.

Glowing eyes staring directly into hers.

Death tilted his head slightly.

"It's time to go."

--------------------

Tears rolled down Ivory's cheeks as her legs trembled beneath her.

She still couldn't process what she was seeing.

Death stood right in front of her.

"How about it, Ivory?" Death spoke calmly, his deep voice echoing through the dark hallway. "Your death would be a wonderful lesson for Miss Esguerra."

Ivory stared at him in disbelief.

"You're going to use my death just to torment Miss Esguerra?" she asked shakily.

Death chuckled.

"Wouldn't that be entertaining?" he replied. "But more importantly... tonight is your time to leave this place and finally rest."

Ivory's brows furrowed.

"And what does my death have to do with her?"

Death tilted his head slightly.

"Don't you want her to suffer?" he asked. "You're emotionally exhausted. Mentally burned out. Don't you want to rest?"

"Yes!" Ivory suddenly exclaimed. "But not literally!"

Death sighed heavily, almost annoyed.

"Look, missy," he muttered. "I've worked in this industry for a very long time. Eternal rest has always been an effective offer for humans like you."

He lazily spun the scythe in one hand.

"Honestly, convincing people to end things themselves is much easier than orchestrating traffic accidents."

Ivory gasped in horror.

"You orchestrate traffic accidents?!"

Death blinked.

"...Well, not all of them."

"That's still horrifying!" Ivory talked back.

"You'd be surprised how difficult humans are to schedule these days."

Ivory stared at him speechlessly.

"This is insane..."

Death crossed his arms.

"If it's your time to go, then it's your time to go," he said firmly. "You believe that too, don't you?"

Ivory suddenly fell silent.

Her own words from moments ago echoed back at her.

Fear crawled back into her chest.

"And honestly," Death continued, gripping the scythe with both hands, "you're wasting my time with all this talking."

The hallway lights flickered violently.

"Let's get this over with."

Ivory's eyes widened in terror.

Death raised his scythe above her.

The blade gleamed beneath the flickering hallway lights as it came crashing down toward her—

—but at that exact moment, memories suddenly flooded Ivory's mind.

Her mother gently tucked her into bed when she was little.

Her father pulled her close whenever thunderstorms frightened her at night.

The warmth of being loved without needing to earn it.

Then another memory surfaced.

Her ex-boyfriend stood silently in front of her two months ago.

The way she stood there quietly as he walked away because she was already too emotionally drained to stop him.

Then came the laughter of her friends during late-night dinners.

Their smiles.

Their teasing voices.

And finally—

Her dream.

To travel.

To finally see the places she only stared at online during breaks from paperwork and sleepless nights.

A life beyond classrooms, deadlines, and exhaustion.

Her breathing trembled.

No.

Not yet.

She still wanted to live.

In one swift movement, Ivory stumbled backward and narrowly dodged the scythe.

The blade slammed against the hallway floor with a deafening sound.

Death froze.

Then he let out a long, irritated sigh.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed frustratingly.

Ivory stared at him in shock, breathing heavily as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She almost died.

She almost—

"Little missy," Death complained, rubbing his forehead. "You're not the only human scheduled to die today, alright? There's only one of me in this industry!"

He lazily lifted the scythe once more.

"Stop wasting my time and just die already!"

"100 days!"

Death stopped mid-swing.

Silence filled the hallway.

"...What?"

Ivory quickly wiped her tears with trembling hands.

"Give me 100 days," she pleaded desperately. "I'll spend those days living the life I never got to live."

Her voice shook.

"After that... you can take my soul."

Death stared at her blankly.

"That's impossible," he replied. "Today is your expiration date."

Ivory looked directly into his glowing eyes despite her fear.

"Then make an exception."

For the first time since revealing himself, Death fell completely silent.

Ivory's legs trembled beneath her.

"Please..." she whispered weakly. "Please let me enjoy being alive before you take me."

More tears rolled down her face.

"I'm only asking for 100 days."

Death stared at Ivory for a long moment before letting out a deep sigh.

"You're going to rot during those 100 days," he said bluntly.

Ivory blinked.

"...What do you mean?"

"Like I told you," Death explained, "today is your expiration date. Your time to leave this world has already arrived."

The flickering hallway lights reflected against his glowing eyes.

"If I allow you to stay for another 100 days, your body will slowly begin to decay."

Ivory's face paled.

"Decay...?"

Death casually nodded.

"Rotting skin. Weakening body. Gradual deterioration." He shrugged. "Your soul is supposed to leave tonight. Keeping it attached any longer will damage the vessel."

Ivory swallowed nervously.

"Can't you just... stop my body from rotting for a while?"

Death stared at her in disbelief before suddenly laughing.

"Look," he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "My job description is to collect souls. Not grant wishes."

Ivory lowered her eyes.

For a brief moment, hesitation crept into her chest.

Maybe this really was a terrible idea.

Maybe she should just—

No.

Ivory slowly clenched her trembling hands.

"I don't care," she said firmly.

Death's laughter faded.

"If my body rots..." Ivory continued quietly, "then so be it."

Silence filled the hallway.

For the first time, Death looked at her differently.

Not as another exhausted human begging for escape.

But as someone desperately choosing life despite the suffering attached to it.

A faint smile slowly appeared on Death's face.

Then he lowered his scythe.

"Humans really are troublesome creatures," he muttered.

He extended his skeletal hand toward her.

"Very well."

Ivory hesitated for only a second before standing up and taking his hand.

The moment their hands touched, an unbearable coldness crawled through her body.

Then suddenly—

Light burst between them.

Ivory gasped softly as glowing markings spread across both of their hands like cracks of light.

A contract.

A deal between life and death.

Death tightened his grip slightly as he stared directly into her eyes.

"Ivory Ramirez," he spoke solemnly, his deep voice echoing throughout the dark hallway. "I will grant you one hundred days to continue living."

A strong gust of wind suddenly swept through the corridor.

The hallway lights glowed violently brighter.

"At the end of those one hundred days..." Death continued, "...your soul will belong to me."

Ivory's breathing trembled.

"Do you accept this agreement?"

The cold wind surrounded her like invisible hands.

Fear crawled through every part of her body.

But beneath that fear...

was determination.

Ivory slowly lifted her head and looked directly at Death.

"I accept."

The glowing light between their hands burst brightly one final time.

And just like that—

the agreement was sealed.