26 Facets of Death

“Just imagine you are looking at a huge gem: the sheer size of it would never allow you to see its whole in one glimpse.  All that you could see, at any given time and from any given angle, is nothing more than a single, glittering facet.”

-          ???



1.  Amoral

He committed his whole life to good deeds and never refused aids to anyone.  His characters embodied benevolence; his actions championed virtues.  He was practically a living saint in the strictest definition of the title.  Even the most cynical and skeptical critics of humanity could not spot any blemish on his personality.  Then one day he was diagnosed with a rare disease: the affliction slowly but inexorably robbed him of all his five senses and inflicted unthinkable pains on his body.  Just one hour before a treatment with 100% cure rate was discovered, he died in tortured convulsions, agonizing until his very last breath.

He never even knew the meaning of the word “good” to start with; everything he did in life can only be categorized under the entry of the word “evil” in any dictionary.  He was such a disgusting human being that his mother killed herself out of shame, when he was only six years old.  He was finally caught of the many crimes he had perpetuated; his trial went swiftly, resulting in a unanimous verdict: he was to be sent to the electric chair.  One hour before his scheduled execution, he was found dead in his cell by a guard.  Autopsy failed to determine a clear cause of death, although the medical examiner did notice his last expressions were content and peaceful.   



2. Beautiful

Tiny and crowded words were written on a torn and slightly rumpled piece of note-paper:

“Your beauty is such that,

  It defies descriptions from me.

Your skin is pale as the faces of wave-drowned under great sea;

Your hair shines the color of thoroughly burned bodies at the stakes;

Your lips are bright and red like the dripping blood from a slit wrist;

Your cheeks adorably pink as if taken from victims of carbon monoxide poisoning;

Your figure swings in graceful harmony with the hanged forms on a scaffold;

Your dance is passionate as the last moments of the electrocuted dead;

Your smile brims with happiness of an addict shortly before fatal overdose;

Your expressions are serene as those of the terminally ill finally granted euthanasia;

Your words unpredictable and lightning-quick like the beginning of a chain car accident;

Your every move mirrors the fascinating contortions of suicide jumpers in mid-air.

Your beauty almost petrifies me,

I only wish to ---”

Rest of the lines was cut off by blood splatters.



3.  Craving

Those were the times he could never forget.

Like the time he pressed trigger and watched a bullet cruising through distance:  it left a bright trail behind and smashed into the front of a skull, churning out bone fragments and brain tissues in a mini-explosion; the top of the head collapsed like a fragile vase, dispersing liquid drops of mixed white and red wide into the air.  Or like the time he pushed the tip of a blade into a still pounding heart: he heard that distinct sound of metal invading flesh; he watched the last tiny sparks of life vanishing from a pair of terrified eyes.  Or like the time he hooked fiber wires into an unsuspecting throat: as he exerted more and more forces with his fingers, he could feel a warm body gradually stiffen and cease to struggle; he could hear the final choking sound as precious air escaped through the crushed trachea. 

Those were the times that he could never, ever forget.

After his retirement, he took up hunting.  It was far from satisfying: the occasional deers and rabbits he found were not nearly enough.

So he bought duct tapes, strong sedatives, large rolls of plastic sheets, chainsaw and big, black garbage bags that promised never to leak.  He considered buying a new hunting knife, but decided the old one was still alright.

He spent two weeks observing and tracking the selected target until he knew every detail of her schedule in heart.

Today he could not wait any longer.

He knew that one day he would make a fatal mistake, that one day he too would become the hunted.

He also knew when that day came, he would finally be able to fully satisfy himself once and for all by feeding a bullet into his own brain.



4. Death

The following words are lies.

Death is just death, who or what else can she be?

Death is that charming girl who always smiles kindly at you, with warmth and affections in her deep but embracing eyes.  She likes to dress up in Gothic style with black leather boots, black jeans, a black leather belt and a black tank top.  A mysterious symbol that resembles the eye of Horus is usually painted under her right eye, also in black.  She wears a white silver ankh on her neck, its color matching the snow-pale skin around it.  She will appear in front of you shortly before you die.  She will talk to you and with you, while patiently waiting for your discarded bag of flesh to carry out its last moments.  She loves to talk and she loves to sharply point out the truth wherever she sees it: after all, no one and nothing can really deceive death (though that does not stop them from trying).

She is ever by you side: if you look around, you can always find her just nearby, as if she is your most loyal friend or your most passionate lover.  She will never let you down, she will never leave you dry: when you are feeling hurt or anguish, you can always rely on her.  You can turn to her for advices whenever you like, and she will tell you what to do in that sensual and mesmerizing voice which she alone possesses.

You will easily fall in love with her.  You will find her presence so attractive that you can never put her out of your mind.

And she loves you too, she loves everyone and everything that exists/existed and lives/lived.

The first statement at the beginning is false. 



5. Equal

         The wise-man said: “Death is not some ‘great equalizer’.  Death could not bring everyone to an equal footing.  If I were to die now, many people would mourn me; they would still remember me even after my death.    The things I said would be recorded by my disciples; those who admired me would carve my words and deeds into stones.  I would not be completely forgotten for a long time to come.  However, if that beggar outside this window would die now, fewer people would mourn and remember him; certainly what he did and what he said would not leave any kind of record.  Soon he would be forgotten, as if he had never lived at all.”

         Sixty years after his death, anyone that directly knew the wise-man had all died.

         Six hundred years after his death, the civilization the wise-man belonged to had died.  Most books and monuments that detailed his life had either been lost or destroyed.  Only few second-hand accounts about him still existed in some obscure corners.

         Six thousands years after his death, not a single living soul now knows anything about the wise-man.

         Just like no one now knows anything about the beggar.

         Death still remembers both of them with absolute clarity, as she does for every being ever existed and thus died.



6. Fickle

         Some say because Death is fickle, therefore she is female; but others say since she is female, hence she is fickle.

         Hold on a minute, whoever said that Death is a she?  Was there ever any consensus on this?  Did everyone just meet up somewhere and vote on what the gender of Death is?

         Actually, you see, there really was a meeting.  Just last week, we all met up and agreed that Death indeed is female, didn’t we?

         Last week?  More like last month.

         You are all WRONG.  We had already established that Death has no gender since a very long time ago.

         Death really is fickle.

         No, still not right…



7. Graceful

         She was the most beautiful person on earth.

         Countless heartstrings were attached to her every smile and every gesture.  She had numerous admirers from every place and every walk of life, be they men or women, young or old, rich or poor, kind or cruel.  Nations would go to war for her one low whisper; children and parents would slit each other’s throat for her one slight nod.

         One day before her thirty-fifth birthday, she took cyanide and killed herself.  She was found serenely lying down on her bed, surrounded with pictures recording her most glamorous moments.  Her will specifically requested that she be cremated and the ashes to be scattered into the ocean.

         Not a living soul knew why she did that.



8. Humorous

         “Listen, do you want to hear a joke?”

         “A sailor walked into a pub, he had a parrot perching on his shoulder.”

         “The barman said: ‘Hey pal, where did you get that?’”

         “The parrot answered: ‘From the harbor, just outside this door.’”

         “Oh, you think that was not funny?”

         “Ah never mind.  You are already dead.  Seems like a human being really cannot take too much physical pains.  I think for our next experimental subject, we do not need to pull out his fingernails.  Also, dilute the acidic solutions a little, and do not heat the scalpels.”

         “So, little guy, do you want to hear a joke?”



9. Indifferent

         An Athenian and a Thessalian received the same prophecy from the oracles of Delphi: they would both die in ten days.

         The Athenian offered huge sacrifices on a scale seldom seen to the temple of Hades.  He begged for forgiveness from the lord of underworld with prayers that could have moved the Muses.  He bought from artifact merchants expensive armors that were said to be forged by Hephaestus himself.  This suit of armors was extremely durable but also light-weighted: it could not be penetrated by any blades or arrows, yet its wearer could move with ease.  The Athenian then commissioned the best architect in Greece to build him an underground safe-room.  He spent all his fortunes in constructing and strengthening the room, to the point that many thought even the catastrophe that sank Atlantis could not harm those staying in this room.  The room was also very large: it contained enough air in it to sustain one person for a long time.  On the night of the ninth day after he heard the prophecy, the Athenian entered the safe-room and sealed the only entrance from inside.  He wore his expensive suit of armors and brought with him enough food and water to last him many days.  When the tenth day arrived, he died.

         The Thessalian became a mercenary after he left the oracles.  He joined the great war between Thebes and Sparta.  No more than one from every hundred combatants survived that bloody conflict.  The Thessalian was the sole survivor of three hundred and fifty-seven soldiers from his unit.  He went on to sign up for underground gladiator fights.  Equipped with no protective armors and only a small dagger, he won more than two dozens matches in a row, often fighting alone against multiple opponents, until the organizers forced him to leave.  He squandered all the gold coins he earned on boozes and prostitutes.  The drunken-to-unconscious Thessalian slept by himself for a whole night in the wild countryside, where feral beasts and poisonous snakes roamed free.  He woke up in the morning none the worse, except with a splitting headache from hangover.  On the tenth day, he also died.     



10. Job

         Before they took out their targets, it was rumored that hit men usually liked to say: “This is nothing personal, it’s just business.”

         Oriental folklores held that in ancient times after executions, executioners would pray to the spirits of the just departed with the following words: “Befall your vengeances on to those who wronged you, but not to us who merely did what we were told to do.”

         Many who participated in massacres and ethnical cleansings often answered blames directed at them like this: “We were only taking orders / We were just fulfilling duties.”

         To those words Death could only shrug her shoulders.



11. Kind

         “Wanna talk about it?”  She asked.

         “Nah, you wouldn’t be interested.  They all say it’s too boring, none of them wanna listen to it.”  I answered.

         “Try me.”  She insisted.

         “Well, if you say so.  Are you sure about it?”  I was still uncertain.

         “No problem, bring it on.”  She sounded really confident.

         So I told her all about it.  I told her everything that I could remember, from the very first moment to the very last.  I did not omit any detail no matter how insignificant it was.

         I talked; she listened.

         “I love it.  You got more?”  She surprised me with that as I was just finishing my last sentence.

         “Nope, that was all I had.  Are you really sure it did not bore you?”  I cannot believe her reactions.

         “Believe me, no one’s life story is boring.”  She flashed her unique little smiles; they made her pale, elfin face full of warmth and affection.          

“Well, I suppose some people do have boring lives…”  I disagreed with her purely out of my old habit.

         “You really think so?  Wanna talk about it while we take a walk?”  She extended her delicate, snow-white hand to me.

         I looked back to that abandoned husk on the bed and all the mourning people around it, then turned and held up her inviting hand.



12. Limit

         This is the last work of a young and promising writer.  He died the day he finished writing it.

         “At the beginning of everything, men did not die.”

         “Even though all beings must die, men were too young in the world to have known Death.  Thus, having no restraint to their growth, men soon prospered and their numbers swelled the earth.”

         “However, men were curious, that was one of their natural affinities.  They saw animals rot in the fields and plants wither by the ground; having not met Death by then, they could not understand.”

         “The not-understanding soon turned to frustration, frustration soon turned to anguish.  Men asked themselves: what is the purpose of this strange phenomenon, from which all living creatures but us are destined to meet?”

         “It was then that Death came to men; men instantly recognized her for what she is, that was the natural instincts of all beings.”

         “Having finally met Death, men asked her the question that had tormented them for a long time.”

         “Death smiled her little smile and said: ‘Why don’t you find it out yourselves?”

         “From that moment on, men, like all other beings, began to die.  Their numbers began to dwindle and their unchecked growth came to an end.  It wasn’t long before men, like all other beings, gradually learned to spend away their whole lives in playing hide-and-seek with death, just as how it is today.”

         “And they never did find out the answer to their original question.”

         Although all of the young writer’s past works were highly regarded, this strange tale only received poor reviews from both critics and readers alike.

         Not that the dead writer himself would have cared, anyway.

         

13. Mystery

         Esolon of Sazalnar once said: “The only thing I am sure of is that I am not sure of anything at all.”

         He then added: “I am sure that Death is a simple and straight-forward affair.”



14. Near

         John was walking on the way; he turned a corner and met Death.

         John waved: “Good morning, Death.”

         Death waved back: “Good morning, John.”

         John and Death resumed walking.

         Death made the parting words: “See you later, John.”

         John replied in kind: “See you later, Death.”



15. Oblivion

         Statistics say that everyday tens of thousands of people die in the world.

         That means tens of thousands of worlds vanished everyday, leaving not a trace behind.



16. Period

         If Che Guevara did not die early, might he not become just another Fidel Castro?  If that were the case, perhaps his images would not be printed on so many t-shirts and posters.”



17. Quiz

         “According to old tales, during the middle of seventeenth century, two bored Londoners made a bet.  One of them (let’s call him A) claimed that he could make a new word and let the whole London adopt its use right away; the other Londoner (let’s call him B) did not believe it.  So A and B made a bet on it.  A day after, every alleyway and narrow street of London was painted with the word ‘Quiz’.  This strangely new word suddenly became the hot topic among everyone within the city.  A of course went on to win the bet.  Nowadays, the word ‘Quiz’ generally refers to a question or a test of some kind.”

         “Death told me this story herself, and I re-told it to many other people afterward.”

         “You ask what the stakes of the bet were?  That is not important.  In fact, whether it was A or B that won the bet, or if the bet was made during that time at that place, or even if there really was a bet, those are all not important.  The important thing is…”

         “I forgot.”



18. Relief

         He came to me again.

         For the whole last month, he came to me by the clock, every night.

         From the talks I had with him, I came to know that he had loving parents that cared for him unconditionally and would sacrifice everything for him; I came to know that he also had a wife and a daughter that loved him perhaps even more; I came to know that he had a successful career, while all the fames he earned only came with admirations from everyone.

         I also came to know that he wanted to die.

         His silhouette began to take form in front me, piece by piece, bit by bit.  His height was one hundred and eighty centimeters, two millimeters and five micrometers.  He weighed seventy-three kilograms, forty-six grams and nine milligrams.  The well-cut and groomed hairs on his head were not as black as they used to be when he was young, but had not yet completely gone gray and white.

         I knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth: “I want to die.”

         My height, which was at one hundred and eighty centimeters, two millimeters and five micrometers, matched perfectly with his: “I know that.”

         “You are not even going to ask why I want to die?”  He said.

         My body, which weighed seventy-three kilograms, forty-six grams and nine milligrams, stood still: “I know that, too.”

         He randomly scratched his head: “You are a weirdo.”

         I refrained from messing with my well-cut and groomed hairs on my head; they were not as black as they used to be when I was young, but had not yet completely gone gray and white: “So are you.”

         Then like all the times before, he grew tired of talking with me and prepared to leave.

         I still had time to add one last sentence: “See you again here tomorrow, as always.”

         He stared back at me: “This is the first time I have ever seen you.  I would never come here again.”  Then he just vanished.

         Everything around me started to grow fuzzy.  Outside the night was nearly gone; the dawn was breaking.

         I knew for certain that tomorrow night we would meet here again.



19. Spontaneous

         When you climbed to the top of a high building or a mountaintop, did you ever have the impulse to jump down from where you stood?  When you held something sharp in your hands, did you ever fancy turning the sharp end into your own chest or slit your own wrist with it?  When you strolled on the sidewalk of a busy street, did you ever wish to just run into the rushing traffics?  When you looked down near the edge of a bridge or the deck of a ship, did you ever imagine diving headfirst into the murky and deep water below?

Do not confuse this with any death wish or suicidal intent.  You are afraid of Death, of blood and pains.  You are ever so careful that you always avoid anything that might seem even remotely dangerous.

         Still, during those moments, you had those thoughts.

         So next time, maybe you ought to just follow them and try it?



20. Tolerant

         I declared to Death my love of her.

         Death answered back to me: No, you don’t.  You do not love anyone or anything at all; you do not even love yourself.  You are just an abomination, a monster, and an error that should have never existed.  Perhaps you could fool everyone else, but I still know who you really are.

         Then she gently whispered in my ear: Yet, I will always wait for you, my love.

         Thus I fell in love with Death.



21. Unique

“Thine Life held by Thou only, none may partake none may share;

“Thine Death ---”

- Written words on a torn page from the sculptures of an unknown religion, the rest of page had been destroyed.



22. Void

         Today he went out to see a movie.  He had not been to a cinema for a long time.

         The movie was good; it was the kind he liked, the kind that made people laugh and think after they laughed.

         He went back home.  The instant he opened the door he began to talk: “Darling, I just watched this movie.  Believe me, you would love it…”

         His words echoed back in the total silence.

         Then he remembered: she had already past away a week ago.



23. Wall

         A wall stood near where I usually came and went.

         The wall was high and it was also thick.

         I could often hear sounds from the other side of the wall.  Sometimes the sounds were heavenly gracious; sometimes the sounds were hellishly terrible. 

         I had always been curious about the origin of those sounds; but the wall was too high, and it was built in such a way that nothing on this side of it could provide support for climbing.

         Until one day,          I saw a long ladder rested on this side of the wall.

         I hesitated for a while, but finally decided to climb it.

         It did not took me long to climb from the first step to the last, my hands could reach top of the wall while I stood on the upper end of the ladder.

         I put both my hands on it and used all the forces I could muster to lift myself up.  One of my legs made it first, then the other one left the ladder and my whole body settled onto the top of the wall.

         I eagerly looked to the other side, yet all I could see was nothing more than an unending expanse of rolling gray fogs, which completely hid everything below from my sight.

         Suddenly screams of pains that almost sounded inhuman reached me from beneath the fog.  The screams only lasted for a very short while, and were soon replaced by gentle voices singing angelical hymns.

         I sat on top of the wall: one side was the familiar path; the other side was the strange unknown.

         When I looked back, the ladder I used to climb the wall was gone.

         So I sat all alone on top of the wall, unable to come back to the past while fearing for the future to come.



24. X

(Please mark “X” on the space before the choice that you think is right.)

At the end of your life, you would certainly, without exception,

_________ A. be rich.

_________ B. be famous.

_________ C. be happy.

_________ D. die.



25. Yonder

         The five-years-old kid poked at the upturned belly of the floating goldfish, he did not understand why all of a sudden “Goldie” stopped moving.

         The thirteen-years-old teenager heard a classmate that he did not know very well committed suicide.  The following day he noticed the newly emptied seat in the classroom.

         The twenty-four-years-old young adult listened as the priest announced “Until Death Do Us Part”.  At that instant, he looked across to his lifelong partner and glimpsed something at a distance, but soon forgot about it as he became distracted by other things.

         The thirty-seven-years-old man was with his parents until their very ends.  He arranged the funerals, he took in condolences from families and friends, he watched as the coffins were laid down into the ground and suddenly felt his back had nothing to fall back on any more.

         The forty-nine-years-old retiree found this year’s school reunion lacking many familiar faces.  He asked around and was told that those absent from the occasion had already gone, forever.

         The sixty-five-years-old senior watched as the accursed disease sucked life out of his beloved little by little, while he could do nothing to stop it.  He listened as the invisible clock slowed down; he heard the unseen wheels coming to an eventual stop in grudging sounds. 

        It, had traveled from a place far away, and had finally arrived.



26. Zero

         Somewhere not here, the crone of the sitting three snapped-cut a long and thin golden line.

         Somewhere not here, one tiny flame among the numerous floating candles flickered no more.

         Somewhere not here, the gigantic hourglass had its last grain of sand dropping down from top to bottom.

         Somewhere not here, “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” was once again uttered by trembling lips.

        Somewhere not here, a light was switched off, a door was shut, not with a slam or a bang, but with a gentle click, a farewell that is almost imperceptible.