EVER SINCE I WAS LITTLE, I WAS TOLD THAT A DEATH DEALER WILL COME TO ME.

I would imagine a reaper creeping behind me while holding a scythe. Or he could be a creepy shadow who almost touches my neck as if I will be strangled from behind. He has no flesh or skin, only bones. And he was covered in a tattered cloak. For me, he was just a classic reaper. He knows no time or day. It always lingered near to those it was about to reap. And I was no exception. In fact, I might be a special case for I was not supposed to live in this world. Or at least not yet during the time I was born.

Death Dealers are the ones keeping the balance between heaven or hell. Once a death dealer helps someone, that person is bound to a contract that must be fulfilled. So I was never afraid of the death dealer. I think he is just doing his job. And if ever I meet the death dealer who gave me the chance to live, I will even thank him for it.

That was my initial plan. 

Until I met one…