I am at the start. I am at the finish. I come to everyone in the end. Sometimes they beg for me. Other times they curse and rail to keep away from me. I am your dream. I am your worst nightmare. I am nothing. I am everything. I am Death.

What do I know of joy? Of love? Of sorrow and hate? The closest I have come to love is when I walked into the bedroom of an old couple. They looked at each other with a strange emotion in their eyes and followed me holding hands. They left like that too. Love seems to be something that holds people together.

I have seen hate although I do not feel it myself. I have seen what a person will look like in the depths of despair as they end their own life. I have seen everything the world has to hold, yet I have never taken part. I am nothing yet I am always there.

I feel nothing, so why do I want to become…something…human? What would I do as a human? Live out my paltry life, scrabbling in the dust and squabbling with the other termites as I grow old and die? Why would I want that?

Yet I do. So, I made a plan. When a human wizard with the audacity of naming himself 'flight of death' split his soul, I crept into the void that was left behind. Not all of me, just a little. Enough to experience what being human was like.

My human was powerful, charismatic. I felt the pull as he drew people towards him, to their deaths. I saw them salivate as they looked upon his beautiful form and his magic tingled in their senses. Then I felt the pleasure of being attractive. No longer an object of repulsion, I, or at least my human, was something to be coveted.

Then, that night, on the day that was traditionally my most hated, if I could hate, his doom came. That day when the ghosts and spirits of those who fled from me came out of hiding as though I didn't stalk the world, as though I was gone. He had changed. Perhaps it was my presence that lent him a certain amount of indifference or maybe I nudged his mind towards slight insanity. Maybe it was nothing to do with me. In my experience, megalomaniacs tend to have a predilection towards insanity.

He was ejected from his body and I followed. His soul was rent into pieces yet he almost entered my grasp that day. His downfall, a year old baby and his mother. I almost had two for the price of one that day, yet in the end I had none. I felt frustration, something strange for an emotionless being such as me. Maybe when I influenced the wizard, I was in turn influenced.

Time means nothing to me, but it meant a lot to that wizard that I was still joined to. The insanity increased with the time that human spent in spirit form, inhabiting the bodies of snakes and finally humans. His attempts to regain corporal form were constantly foiled by that baby who had first ruined him.

Over the years, a bond, first caused by the failed attack, was formed. It extended even unto the soul, and I, as part of the human wizard's soul, became part of the one with eyes the colour of that curse so often used to deliver souls to me. In the end there was only one option that I could see; they would both have to die.

My wizard gained his body, but now it was something of revulsion. No longer did I gain those glances that pleased me; I was back to being something that was feared and hated. I spent more time at the other end of the bond. Unfortunately, being who I am, this meant that the young wizard was hounded by the deaths of those around him.

I saw as he broke numerous times and then was fixed, leaving cracks that were merely papered over. He grew with an aura of power and the good looks that drew other humans once more. I was…happy, I suppose. The bond grew though and the end drew inexorably closer.

In then end, only one died; my original wizard. The curse of death destroyed the bond between the two and I was ejected from the young wizard's body. He, however, was left alive, only to kill the wizard named 'flight of death' once recovered. I received my host warmly to my breast and sent him on his way, as is my job.

I watched the younger wizard from afar afterwards, feeling a strange sense of…pride. One day I will meet him again as I meet all in the end. I will remember those two with affection for as long as my emotions remain. After that, they will blend into the memory that forgets nothing and be just two more in an uncountable multitude.