RAIN

Rhea Byrd yanked the hood of her raincoat over her messy curls. It was a rainy day in Burnsville, Minnesota, and Rhea was unfortunate enough to have been caught in the worst of it on her walk home from work. Hard pellets of water shot at her like seeker missiles. It was as if Mother Nature was targeting her. She heard a car roar by and looked up. On the other side of the street was a man. She tried to stop herself from looking, but her gaze kept being drawn back to the man.

"Excuse me?" she calls, finally, "Are you okay?" She crosses the street.

"I'm just fine, thanks," says the man. "And who might you be?"

"Rhea. Rhea Byrd."

"Nice to meet you, Rhea. I'm Anton."

"Hi," says Rhea breathlessly. "You don't look like you're from around here."

"Aptly noticed," says the man. "I'm just visiting." Rhea tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"What's the cause of your visit?" Rhea asks. The man chuckles.

"Just business, I'm afraid. Nothing too exciting." Rhea nods in his direction and continues down to her apartment.

Today, luckily, sleep comes easily, and she thinks no more about the man.

The next day, however, she turned on the television to see his face.

"Wanted; Anton Philipe, for a double murder. He's a naitive of Atlanta, Georgia."

A double murder?

"The victims include Skylar Perry and Rhea Byrd, both Minnesota residents."

Rhea Byrd? But that... that's my name, she thinks. I'm not dead.

She looks down at her body. Nothing. No scratch, no blood. She couldn't be dead...

"Hello, are you Rhea Byrd?" She jumps and turns to face the strange man who had just now appeared in her house.

"Who are you? How'd you get in here?"

"Calm down," he says, with a sigh. "This part is always so annoying."

"Who are you?"

"Look at your bed." She does, and sees her body, lying battered on her sheets.

"What- how-"

"You have to come with me, Rhea."

"Who are you?"

"Mortals call me Death. Now, please, come with me."