Near Death

Through the haze

Hitting the ground with the scythe's snath grip he helped himself up as his robe flapped in the wind shedding dust.

'Can't say I have ever seen this desert.' I looked around at the ghosts circling, moaning in pain.

'Yet here you are, a pilgrim in an unholy land perhaps?'

'Who are they?'

'The souls of those who dared to challenge me.' The wind began to pick up sand tinting the surroundings yellow. 'Now roaming the void of oblivion. Hope that we don't meet again, friend.' I heard his deep voice raise above the whooshing wind.

'For your sake,' I stared defiantly at the void of the faceless man, 'i hope we don't. Old friend.'

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The smell of burning diesel and the sound of propellers assauted my senses... 'David!'...