Not Croton At All...

Of all supernatural servants, none are quite as disconcerting as Fear. The right-hand of Death was often mistaken for his master, as most cultures tended to view his coming as the herald of Death, as Death itself.

John Rosling sat quietly at the bar. Most of the patrons had left for the evening, leaving only the few regulars who regularly closed the bar. When the door opened, most of them looked up and were surprised to see a newcomer walk in. Through the haze of smoke, the man moved quietly to the bar. When asked later what had happened, the rest of the patrons were able to only make the vaguest descriptions of the man, and none could say what his face looked like, as it was obscured by a dark hood.

The bartender was rather gruff, hoping to get the newcomer to leave quickly. There was something unsettling about the man. “What do you want?” The response he received sent shivers down his spine in a manner that nothing else had ever done.

“My business is with my friend at the bar. Don’t be alarmed, as I will leave when my business with Mr. Rosling is concluded.”

At hearing his name, John looked up from his glass. The man stood up from his seat and walked over to him, speaking the entire time. “You’ve led quite a number of lives.” John began to feel a knot growing in the pit of his stomach at the sound of the man’s voice. “All those failed marriages, the drinking, the abuse. You’ve caused a lot of pain in your life.”

John fell off his chair, hitting the ground hard. “What do you want with me!?” his voice a gaining volume as he attempted to flee backwards on the ground. The stranger kept slowly walking closer.

“In the end, what did it get you? A regular spot at a grungy dive bar in a backwater city.” As the man drew closer to John, the darkness hiding the man’s face began to reveal skeletal features. John shrieked for help.

“They can’t hear you anymore, John. All men must feel Death’s touch. You are no exception.”

Babbling almost incoherently, John began pleading, offering to change his life, turn over a new leaf, make things right. “I’m not here to judge, John. I’m merely a harbinger. Fear, John, for your life is at an end.”

The bartender looked at the stranger quizzically. “What business with John? He’s... He’s drunk himself unconscious again!”

The stranger stood up, placed a few crumbled bills on the counter. “I’ll cover his last drink.” And with that, he headed out the door as the bartender tried to shake John awake.

Fear’s nature was to be a harbinger. But it was not always those he visited who had the most to fear from him.

Mary’s daughter’s 6th birthday party was going gloriously. They had blocked off the street and all their neighbors had come by to wish her Lilly a “Happy Birthday.” There were so many, she lost track of them all. It just happened that her daughter’s birthday happened to be on the 4th of July, so most of the visitors were from out of town and her daughter’s birthday was merely the impetus, but it was still an excuse, and she did have the largest yard, and a clear view of the fireworks.

Everyone had brought something to share with the rest of the group. Mary was sure to check to make sure that Lilly only ate those dishes that didn’t have nuts in them of any kind. The one time Lilly had tasted peanut butter Mary and her husband Bill had been in the hospital for days while Lilly was recuperating. Since then, Mary had been rigorous in her duties to protect her daughter.

Bill was around, talking to the other men, comparing their respective collections, when he caught a man moving through the crowd out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look, the man wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Bill wanted to shrug it off as a friend of a neighbor, but there was something about the stranger that caused a chill in his heart. Excusing himself, he went off to look for the man.

Around the back of the house, Lilly was playing with one of her new toys and eating a large slice of cake, happily munching away. She looked up when a man sat down next to her, squinting into the late-afternoon sun. “Hello, mister.”

“Hello, Lilly. I’ve brought you a gift.” He reached behind him and brought out a small stuffed bear. “I know it isn’t much, but you never go to a party without a gift.”

Lilly looked at the toy and pulled it to her, hugging it close.
“It’s ok. I like stuffed animals.” She looked back at the man. “Thank you, mister.” She thought for a second. “Why do you wear a hood like that?”

A small grin seemed to peak out from the darkness. “My face tends to get odd looks.”

“Well, you seem nice to me.” She shuffled closer to him.

The grin widened a little into a smile. “Thank you, Lilly. It’s not often I hear that.”

Bill found his wife in their kitchen and told her about the strange man he saw. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think he’s one of the neighbors, or their friends.”

“I’ll look out back, you check the house,” Mary said as she headed outside. Somehow, the feeling of fear and dread had passed from husband to wife. The first feeling told her to check on her daughter.

Lilly was standing on the far sidewalk from the house, holding the man’s hand when she heard her mother shriek from the backyard. She craned her head around to look up at the man, “What’s wrong with Mommy, mister?”

He looked down at her, his voice regretful, “She’s hurting right now.”

“Would a band-aid help?” she asked, feeling her pockets. “Mommy gave me one to always keep on me.”

“It’s not the kind of hurt that can be fixed with a band-aid, little one, only time. And, one day, you’ll be together again and the pain will be gone.” He gently tugged her hand and they started walking down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”