The Messenger in the Garden
Dusk came upon the city as soon as the day had risen for Anna, whom was inside her white room, a canvas in front of her green eyes, a rather large paintbrush in her hand slashing away at the paper with no remorse. Her door was closed to the outside world behind her second floor bedroom, soft music played from a radio above her bed on the lightly painted shelf, she hummed along as she worked, glancing down her window at her muse, the garden.
The garden was their yard, lush green grass was hidden away by flowers, shrubs, and a large willow that hung over the stone steps leading toward a small pond of lily pads and small little fish in a large garden of rocks in circling it and the fence. A few items such as benches, chairs, and tables were around this area. Among the items a stone angel sat weeping with her dainty hand around a robed chest, her stony gaze cast down at the grass below.
Anna's eyes were content to watch the angel near the rocks and pond, what she had been painting all day, but to her surprise, the normal darkening grass had a mist coiling around the angel's feet, the mist however was not a smoky grey or milky white, but a mint green.
Eyes wide and heart thudding, Anna watched, not saying or screaming a word, but watching with curious fear.
The light mist seemed to dance amongst the ground until it found a center where it began to move upward and form something, something of human stature. Two legs came from the mist; the legs were covered by black pants and the feet by two large boots. A male torso came next, it was bare and rippled, but not a bronze color of flesh, but a grey cold stony color. Two hands were next, one as normal as her brothers, but the other was much more like a large claw with long fingernails. Now for the head, two large ears hung low like a donkey's, piercing littered them, his face, human but stern and with glowing green eyes, his hair was a black mop on his head, hanging in his eyes and around his ears, a cigarette in his teeth.
Anna’s breath was caught in her throat, her pale skin tingled with fear as she watched him eye the ground around him and smoke the cancerous thing, the smoke green like the mist he appeared in. Glancing up, he saw her, a crooked smile on his lips, he pointed with the clawed hand while the other was holding the cigarette by his side.
Anna opened her mouth when she felt herself be pulled toward his outstretched hand, paintbrush falling onto the ground as she floated out the now opened window toward him, landing next to him with a soft thud, her white night gown brushing the grass; her feet were ready to run as soon as she was near him.
“I’m here to take you.” He said, his voice plain, not deep, not frightening but plain.
“I…I they said the treatment worked…” she said, now realizing what he was now, what the cancerous smell was, he was Death’s messenger, Death’s demon which was the color of infection and sent out to find the infected.
He nodded his head, knowing the look, “It didn’t work…” he said blandly.
Cancer had taken her now.