An excerpt of If Death Should Love Me
Morning Dearies!
Today, I figured that I'd share a small excerpt of If Death Should Love Me with y'all. So... here it is. Enjoy!
If Death Should Love Me Chapter 2 Excerpt
Comoros Africa200 A.D.
I'd just turned twenty-one years of age.My father, Afolabi, meaning 'born in high status', was the tribe's leader, and as such he was allotted six wives. The remnants of the tribesmen were allotted only three. My mother was Nandi, meaning 'strong willed'. Her name suited her, truly.I was during that time called Amari, meaning 'prince'. This was the name given me upon my birth. I was my father's fourth wife's, first child. Kamau, meaning 'silent warrior', was my mother's sixth child, and my younger brother. Only the two of us being male as the rest of my mother's children were female.
The remembrance distends in my mind even still. The image so clear that it portrayed a feeling of time just passed, as if I'd seen her proud face just yestermorning. Honor glimmering in her eyes. I was my father's first born son and the one who resembled him most of all. This fact made me a preferred child in his eyes. This made my mother happy to the point of almost gloating.
My tribe and I were celebrating the twelfth birthday of my brother Kamau. Our tradition called for a tribe wide hunt. This hunt was meant to prove the boy child, a man. The hunt consisted of only the men of the tribe. The women stayed behind in the preparation of the enormous feast and festivities that would follow.I was excited! Happy to have the privilege to finally show my young brother the exhilaration of pursuit. It was a rush, an almost intoxicating thrill that had no compare. Your blood pumping, your heart racing, your will at the brink of losing all composure.When you hunted, you were a man! Not just any man, but a 'man of the tribe'. This feeling had purpose, it had meaning. It defined me: us!I can barely put into words the elation of the tribe when we unanimously lifted our voices in a cry of triumph when our prize animal had been slain. It was- it was, right!
I saw it. The beast. About fifty feet away. It was glorious. With a shiny, golden coat, glowing blade like teeth. Forced to guess, I would say about two hundred pounds of pure strength and savagery. A lioness. Bewildering, almost. Almost. Even still, not intimidating enough that she would cause me fear or aversion. Kamau crept up behind me; I motioned, swiftly and quietly, putting a single finger over my lips as to inform him of my intent. It was imperative that he remain in tremendous silence. With one hand I made a motion, telling him to wait where he was. I moved forward carefully.
I could practically feel the stares of my fellow tribesmen gazing at me from between the wilderness—eyes fixed on my every move in the midst of the potent greenery of the jungle. I moved forward some more, skilfully and with ease—slowly lifted my spear, preparing to launch it towards the intricate beauty that was the majestic lioness.A sudden sharp pain probed my back! Agony! Disorientation, confusion, then pain! My spear fell, hitting the ground with a bounce, yet I heard no sound. Things slowed exceedingly. The beast ran off. I looked around. I saw Kamau, shock crossed his eyes, his arm extended, positioned as if he had launched a spear of his own.More perplexing, agonizing pain ravaged through me, I fell to my knees. Screams surrounded me. Running. More screams. I touched my back and felt it lodged directly in its center. With precision I felt it rip through my ribs and lungs causing me to gasp for air. I drew in another labored breath, this time harder.Scarcely I could hear my name being called from afar. Nothing now. No air, no movement, no pain. Just nothing.Blackness, darkness, emptiness followed.
My eyes opened. I was standing. I reached for my back and felt nothing there. I tried to look around, access my surroundings, even still puzzled by all that had just transpired. The area was foreign to me. This place was dark and void. The feeling was unique, relatively inexplicable. I could feelmyself there, but I could not seemyself there. Lifting my hands to my eyes I tried to look at them but the darkness was so deep that my eyes failed to adjust to it.
It was impossible to make out my own hands in front of me, or any partof my person, for that matter. I heard something. A wind. A motionless movement, as if something floated in the air.The lights came back on, yet I still saw nothing. Nothing except for it. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Approximately six feet tall. A spirit. A ghost, if you will. A white ghost who spoke in my language, my words. He told me that I was chosen, that I would not pass on. That I was meant to linger amidst life and death. I was, The Collector.“What is 'The Collector'?” I asked“You would better know it as 'Azriel Dèvas', the Angel of Death.” The white ghost replied.“What? Why me?” I could not grasp it, it seemed too surreal, too unbelievable.“I told you. You have been chosen. This is your fate.” Coldness in his voice, as well as a small hint of contempt.
Such was the beginning of my existence, or nonexistence, as I prefer to call it.
Today, I figured that I'd share a small excerpt of If Death Should Love Me with y'all. So... here it is. Enjoy!
If Death Should Love Me Chapter 2 Excerpt
Comoros Africa200 A.D.
I'd just turned twenty-one years of age.My father, Afolabi, meaning 'born in high status', was the tribe's leader, and as such he was allotted six wives. The remnants of the tribesmen were allotted only three. My mother was Nandi, meaning 'strong willed'. Her name suited her, truly.I was during that time called Amari, meaning 'prince'. This was the name given me upon my birth. I was my father's fourth wife's, first child. Kamau, meaning 'silent warrior', was my mother's sixth child, and my younger brother. Only the two of us being male as the rest of my mother's children were female.
The remembrance distends in my mind even still. The image so clear that it portrayed a feeling of time just passed, as if I'd seen her proud face just yestermorning. Honor glimmering in her eyes. I was my father's first born son and the one who resembled him most of all. This fact made me a preferred child in his eyes. This made my mother happy to the point of almost gloating.
My tribe and I were celebrating the twelfth birthday of my brother Kamau. Our tradition called for a tribe wide hunt. This hunt was meant to prove the boy child, a man. The hunt consisted of only the men of the tribe. The women stayed behind in the preparation of the enormous feast and festivities that would follow.I was excited! Happy to have the privilege to finally show my young brother the exhilaration of pursuit. It was a rush, an almost intoxicating thrill that had no compare. Your blood pumping, your heart racing, your will at the brink of losing all composure.When you hunted, you were a man! Not just any man, but a 'man of the tribe'. This feeling had purpose, it had meaning. It defined me: us!I can barely put into words the elation of the tribe when we unanimously lifted our voices in a cry of triumph when our prize animal had been slain. It was- it was, right!
I saw it. The beast. About fifty feet away. It was glorious. With a shiny, golden coat, glowing blade like teeth. Forced to guess, I would say about two hundred pounds of pure strength and savagery. A lioness. Bewildering, almost. Almost. Even still, not intimidating enough that she would cause me fear or aversion. Kamau crept up behind me; I motioned, swiftly and quietly, putting a single finger over my lips as to inform him of my intent. It was imperative that he remain in tremendous silence. With one hand I made a motion, telling him to wait where he was. I moved forward carefully.
I could practically feel the stares of my fellow tribesmen gazing at me from between the wilderness—eyes fixed on my every move in the midst of the potent greenery of the jungle. I moved forward some more, skilfully and with ease—slowly lifted my spear, preparing to launch it towards the intricate beauty that was the majestic lioness.A sudden sharp pain probed my back! Agony! Disorientation, confusion, then pain! My spear fell, hitting the ground with a bounce, yet I heard no sound. Things slowed exceedingly. The beast ran off. I looked around. I saw Kamau, shock crossed his eyes, his arm extended, positioned as if he had launched a spear of his own.More perplexing, agonizing pain ravaged through me, I fell to my knees. Screams surrounded me. Running. More screams. I touched my back and felt it lodged directly in its center. With precision I felt it rip through my ribs and lungs causing me to gasp for air. I drew in another labored breath, this time harder.Scarcely I could hear my name being called from afar. Nothing now. No air, no movement, no pain. Just nothing.Blackness, darkness, emptiness followed.
My eyes opened. I was standing. I reached for my back and felt nothing there. I tried to look around, access my surroundings, even still puzzled by all that had just transpired. The area was foreign to me. This place was dark and void. The feeling was unique, relatively inexplicable. I could feelmyself there, but I could not seemyself there. Lifting my hands to my eyes I tried to look at them but the darkness was so deep that my eyes failed to adjust to it.
It was impossible to make out my own hands in front of me, or any partof my person, for that matter. I heard something. A wind. A motionless movement, as if something floated in the air.The lights came back on, yet I still saw nothing. Nothing except for it. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Approximately six feet tall. A spirit. A ghost, if you will. A white ghost who spoke in my language, my words. He told me that I was chosen, that I would not pass on. That I was meant to linger amidst life and death. I was, The Collector.“What is 'The Collector'?” I asked“You would better know it as 'Azriel Dèvas', the Angel of Death.” The white ghost replied.“What? Why me?” I could not grasp it, it seemed too surreal, too unbelievable.“I told you. You have been chosen. This is your fate.” Coldness in his voice, as well as a small hint of contempt.
Such was the beginning of my existence, or nonexistence, as I prefer to call it.
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