**Author's note- The title of this chapter is not to be taken as an offense. Plenty of good things have come from Canada. Like Kids in the Hall, and. . . um. . . I'll think of some later, I'm sure.**

***

Old man Whittiker rocked back and forth in his wicker chair, looking off his porch to the featureless horizon ahead.

"My knee's actin' up again," he said, turning to his wife, "Apocolypse must be on its way."

"I'll go get my sweater."

***

"Alright," I was a bit more self confident now- I find that my confidence is always a lot better after I lose consciousness for a while. I can't imagine why. "I'm not entirely sure how detectives in the old days used to find people, but I know how to do it now. I think there's an internet café near hear, come on."

Sitting at a computer a few minutes later, I inserted the tiny ticket that I'd paid for a few seconds earlier. "I'll need to count that under 'expenses,' which is in addition to. . . what now?"

Death sighed. "One million dollars." I grinned in self satisfaction. "And if you keep mentioning it every thirty seconds it starts going down."

"Fair enough. Now, the internet is a meeting ground of information, almost a utopia. Anything can be found here, if you know how to look."

"I was under the impression that the internet was a database for pornography."

"Mostly, yes. What was this girl's name?"

"Katherine Blackwell. There are probably thousands of them on earth. . . the odds of you finding the right one are astoundingly-"

"This her?"

"Holy crap."

Smiling a bit, I turned back to the picture on the screen. "Looks like a goth."

"You expected the Prince of Darkness to impregnate a road scholar?"

"Got some of her poetry here. . . damn. That's. . . far more than I wanted to know."

"Wow. No comment."

"Yeah. . ."

"Does it say anything about where she lives? This is the information we need."

"Hold on, I think she's got a blog on here."

An employee walked up to Death, eyeing his scythe a bit tentatively. "Sir, I'm afraid you can't share computers. If you want to use a computer, you must pay for your own ticket."

"I'll only be a second."

"Listen sir, if you do not cooperate with the rules, I'm afraid I'll have to remove you."

Death looked down at him, lowering his eyebrows. "If you try to touch me, I'm not going to be the one who ends up regretting it."

Losing his calm façade, the man whimpered and backed away.

"Here we are. She's a junior at Clearview High School in Maniwaki, Canada."

"The antichrist in Canada. Can't say I didn't see it coming. Should have known he'd corrupt a high school girl too. Well, thank you for your help, I'll see that the money is put into your bank account. We won't have any trouble. . . it is GOD after all."

"You're talking like you're leaving without me, and it's beginning to concern me."

Death chuckled. "You didn't expect me to take you along, did you? A mortal on business of this sort. . . preposterous."

"Come on! I'm already in this far, it's like seeing a movie and getting kicked out of the theater before the end because some old bat found your running commentary 'offensive' and went and called the ushers, and those guys have absolutely no sense of humor, and on top of that they won't refund your 6.50 so you start attacking the cashiers at the snack counter and the police get all miffed because of 'aggrivated assault' whatever the hell that is, and-"

"Alright, listen, I'll take you to witness this final act if you insist. But you have to promise that if I do, you will butt out of my affairs- and all heavenly matters- and go back to the life of an ordinary mortal."

"On my honor."

"And you think that's worth something?"

"Ouch."

"Come. We shall leave as soon as possible."

***

Moving through the airport was hell with Death. Have you ever seen the amount of fuss they kick up over a pair of nail clippers? Well he was still carrying his scythe.

The woman behind the desk eyed him apprehensively. "Y. . . you're going to have to check that."

"Oh really?" he grunted sarcastically, handing his sickle to her, which she took gingerly as if it was about to explode. She wrapped a tag around the handle and handed it to someone in back, who looked at it just as strangely as she had.

"Where are you flying to today?" she asked, hitting keys at a furious rate.

"Um. . ." Death turned to me, "Where the hell is Maniwaki?"

"How should I know!?"

Death drew out an atlas from inside his voluminous robes and began to flip through it. The receptionist had never stopped her typing. I leaned over and peered at the computer screen. She was typing totally random letters into a text document.

"Alright, do you have flights to Montcerf?"

"Yes sir we do."

"Good. On-two tickets there please."

"Would you like a flight with meals?"

"No."

"Can I see your ID and passport please?"

Death set out a driver's liscence and passport on the desk. Both read "Maurice Sandburg." Ironically enough he was an organ donor.

"Alright your flight leaves in two hours from gate 32. Enjoy your flight."

"Enjoy your prolonged avoidance of death."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Once we were out of earshot, I looked up at Death. "Maurice Sandburg?"

"I have thousands of different sets of IDs, I use them in moderation to avoid suspiscion as to how often I fly. They. . . didn't let me pick my names."

"I can tell. Are the others that embarassing?"

"Yes. There's our gate."

***

We waded through the sea of people in the aisles of the aircraft, desperately searching for our seats. Death kept his hands above his head, avoiding touching people at all costs. Finally, we found our seats and the plane readied for takeoff.

"You gents doing alright?" asked a stewardess, leaning into our row.

"Yes, thank you," answered Death.

"Your seatbelt looks a bit loose, let me-"

"NO!"

The attendant brushed Death's hand, and dropped to the ground. Everyone around us gasped and turned openmouthed to the body.

"Damn it!" Death hissed, "Gabriel's gonna have a fit."

Not a soul passed by our section of the plane the rest of the flight.

***

A hell of an awkward luggage claim and a day long car trip later, we perched behind a large bush across the street from Clearview High. Death had out a pair of quite ancient looking binoculars and was surveying the wave of students that had flooded out of the building the second the bell rang.

"There she is!" he whispered excitedly, "She's with her boyfriend. . . that's funny, he looks like. . . oh dear God."

"What!?"

"Sssh I need to think now! It'll all be revealed soon! You just watch and try to stay out of the way." Death tucked away his binoculars. "This is going to be one hell of a lot harder than I initially expected."

Without another word, he took off like a bolt of lightening on caffeine, his scythe manging to slice a few leaves off the bush as he left. I followed at a somewhat slower pace, wheezing with the effort and the hunger in my stomach. Death, being an immortal, did not seem to understand the human's basic need for food.

In the distance I spotted Katherine walking home, dressed of course in black, her arm around the waist of a tall boy in a black trenchcoat. Both had heavy eyeliner and chains, naturally, and boots that very much resembled the ones that Death himself wore. I could see them talking and laughing together. Until her boyfriend looked in our direction. His heavily shadowed eyes widened with fear, I saw his mouth form the word 'Run.' Katherine's face fell, with a deer in the headlights look she asked why. This was met with shouting from the boy, and grabbing her wrist he took off.

We followed the couple through a small suburban neighborhood, drawing nearer and nearer by the second. But unfortunately they reached a house- I'm not sure if it was hers or his- before we reached them. The boy fumbled with his keys for a second, then finally threw the door open and dove inside. The door slammed. A few minutes later Death reached it.

Barely stopping, Death drew back his scythe and smashed it against the door. The spintered wood flew inward, and Death stormed in. I slipped in after him.

Inside Katherine stared wide eyed and open mouthed at Death, clutching the arm of her boyfriend as if it were a life preserver. He didn't look the least bit afraid. A look of cold determination lined his features.

"Go into the kitchen," he commanded, not taking his eyes off Death.

"Ronnie, I-"

"DO IT!"

Wimpering, a few tears coming to her eyes, she released his arm and retreated into a door. Death didn't even move for it.

"Hello Labdacus," he said simply.

A small smile reached the boys lips. "Mordacus." Suddenly he seemed to burst into green flame. When the smoke evaporated, a seven foot tall man stood in his place. His hair dark black and dreadlocked, and reached well past his shoulders. He was dressed in the same trenchcoat and boots as the boy whose form he'd taken, minus the chains. In his right hand he clutched a staff, on the end of which was a clean flame, which looked like it could burn forever. He grinned, displaying his blackened fangs. "Long time no see." His voice was smooth, yet harsh, like being hit across the face with a frozen stick of butter.

"There's a good reason for that."

"You got that stupid job. . ."

"You fell in league with Lucifer."

"Water under the bridge. You really should consider coming over to our side, Mordacus. It's a lot more fun, no messy rules to be dealt with, none of this 'struggling for the betterment of mankind.'"

"I'd sooner suffer the greatest perils."

"Honestly, I don't know why you care about these mortals. So weak. . . frail. . . and annoying too. Talking to them for five minutes makes me wish I wasn't immortal so I could commit suicide."

"There's more to them than that. They don't deserve to be slaughtered like animals, like Lucifer is trying to do with his Antichrist. You can't believe that-"

"Slaughtering humans is evil, you say? I think you'd better take a good look at your profession."

"That's totally different."

"Is it?"

"Yes, it is. Now I'm sorry you find mortals so annoying, but I'm afraid that the only thing I've come here to do is kill your girlfriend."

I heard a gasp. I'd been so involved in the conversation between these two immortals, I hadn't noticed Katherine poking her head out from in the kitchen. She was a spectator to these proceedings just as I was, she watched with the same horror on her face that you'd expect of someone who'd just witnessed their boyfriend turning into a seven foot tall demon in the middle of their living room.

"You have to get through me first," Labdacus continued.

"Believe me," Death raised his scythe, "I intend to."

They lunged at each other, Death swung his scythe and it was stopped by Labdacus's staff. The flame on the end erupted on the moment of contact. They withdrew, and clashed again, and again, and again. Death swung, Labdacus dove out of the way, and Death's sickel sliced a hole in the couch. Taking this opportunity, Labdacus aimed a blow with his flaming staff to the back of Death's head. Death ducked, drew the blade of his scythe from the couch cushion and held it ready. He slashed at Labdacus with it, Labdacus blocked. They froze in this position, Death staring with his shadowed eyes at the pale face of Labdacus.

"The girl," he wheezed, "must be destroyed. The seed she carries in her womb is to be the end of humanity!"

"You kill her over my dead body."

"You can't die. We're both immortals."

"Precisely."

They backed away from each other, and readied their weapons once more.

"Stop!" cried Katherine's voice. All three of us- Death, Labdacus and I- turned to the girl who had emerged from the kitchen. She clutched a large meat cleaver in her shaking hand. Her tears had run her dark mascara all the way down her face. "You're talking about me? I'm carrying the antichrist?" she said this with more fury than curiosity. Fury directed at Labdacus, the demon she once believed to be her boyfriend.

"Yes," Death said quickly. "In eight months, you shall give birth to the son of Lucifer, who will soon cause Armageddon."

Katherine's eyes focused on the demon. "Coulda mentioned something about that to me, couldn't you have!? Along with this demon business. . . what happened to honesty in a relationship!?"

"I-"

"Shut up!" she sighed, and cast her eyes downward. "I can't cause the end of the world. Be responsible for the death of everyone on the planet. . . I always talk like that'd be awesome, but I couldn't let it really happen." She raised the knife, gripping it with both hands.

"Kat, don't!" Labdacus screamed, dropping his staff and leaping toward her. He wasn't fast enough. She plunged the knife into her heart, and fell dead at Labdacus's feet. He screamed. "NO! Lucifer's seed!" He knelt beside her and lifted her lifeless head.

"Yes," Death moved over him, "He won't be able to produce another for many years, and when he does, you can bet we'll find it."

"Damn you!" he shouted, stretching out his hand. His staff flew into his plam on its own accord, and he attacked with it. Death stepped back and blocked, but the force of Labdacus's swing was so great that Death's scythe snapped in two. This had two effects- first, Labdacus's staff connected with Death's chest, sending him flying backward into the wall. Second, the blade of Death's scythe, separated from the handle by Labdacus's blow, flew into the air and slashed Labdacus across the face. He howled in pain, and dissapparated in a puff of smoke, leaving only his extinguished staff and his coat behind.

I watched in awe as Death stood and shook himself off. He walked over to the other side of the room, grabbed the two pieces of his scythe, pulled a roll of duct tape from inside his robe, and taped them back together. Rather apprehensively because of the display I'd just witnessed, I approached him, my legs shaking.

"I'll have to get another one of these," Death muttered, inspecting his repair job. "I wonder if Home Depot still stocks them."

"Um. . . is Labdacus. . .?"

"Dead? No of course not. We're immortal, remember? But, as with the spirits in heaven, when he is wounded he must return to his source to receive medical care before he can continue." Solemnly, he knelt beside Katherine and lifted her head. "She turned out to be very noble. Pity she had to die. Probably would have eventually ditched the goth thing and become a hell of a woman." He stood and bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he said to her body.

"I didn't know you had feelings."

"Of course I have feelings. I was an angel before I got this gig, I feel the same compassion we all do." He looked over my shoulder. "Good afternoon Gabriel."

I whipped around. Gabriel, the short old angel whom I had seen earlier leading Death, had appeared in the wrecked doorway.

"Mordacus," he acknowledged, then looked down at the Katherine's body. "I see you carried out your mission."

"She did it for me. She was very selfless, deserves a good place in the kingdom."

"So I saw. I'll see to it that it's done. Now," he looked up at me, "As to him."

"I'm very sorry about that, sir, he wouldn't let up, I-"

"All is forgiven, Mordacus. We'll just have to get his memory erased."

"What!?" I shouted.

Death advanced on me, and using the handle of his sickle, pushed me forcefully onto the mutilated couch. Gabriel approached, and Death kept pressure on the scythe holding down my chest. Closing his eyes, Gabriel touched his fingertips to my forehead. My senses were filled with a bright white light. . .

***

Death took his scythe off Fred's chest and turned to Gabriel. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Better than ever."

"Good. God help me, I actually started to like the stupid mortal."

"All immortals feel that bond form. As long as it doesn't affect their duties, it's perfectly alright. Don't worry, he'll wake up feeling good and not remembering his encounter with you or anyone connected with it. He might lose some of high school too. . . but I'm sure he won't miss it. Come, there's a holdout right in this area if I'm not mistaken. . ."

***

I awoke feeling a hell of a lot better than I usually do. Rubbing my eyes I sat up. The last couple days were just a haze to me. . . I must have had a lot to drink last night. No hangover, fortunately. Lucky chance. I stood and stretched.

"Where the hell did all my furniture go?"