Snippet #1823896

Blake looked over at the five spirits that presented themselves as a family. He was glad they were happy and almost laughed in delight when they asked Death if she was their queen. He wanted to scream, Of course she is! She should be the Queen of all Souls. But yet Death humbly declined the title. He walked a little ways to the side after Life presented the offer of freedom after fifty years. He was met with his handsome silver haired reflection. He brushed his hair to the side so his eyes stared seriously back at him. He was used to seeing spirits, but most were either in heaven, hell, or wandering the Earth all meloncholy about the eradication of their human bodies. It was a warm feeling to know that some were still enjoying the curse of Death. He frowned, though, as the soul remarked that she couldn't be paired with someone in marriage. He dreamed once that he was married. A ridiculous thought that was gone the second it came.

"You may sign a contract if you wish for written evidence," Blake interjected politely. He produced a thin linen cloth type of paper from his invisble bag, handing it to Death with a golden feather pen.