//------------------------------//
// Thursday 
// Story: Flash Sentry Calls an Uber 
// by MythrilMoth 
//------------------------------//

Flash stared in horror at the car that awaited him on Thursday.

It was a jet black hearse.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head and slowly backing away toward the mall entrance, his phone already out and the Uber app open to cancel. However, his escape route was cut off when he collided with an unyielding figure behind him. He turned and looked up...

A figure in a ragged black cloak towered over him, the shadowy hood completely hiding its face. One hand gripped the rough-hewn haft of an ancient scythe. Flash gulped. "What—"

Flash Sentry. I have come for you.

"L-like hell!" Flash stammered, backing away and breaking into a sprint. His heart pounded like a jackhammer and his lungs burned as panic wracked his brain. *This is ridiculous,* he thought as he ran. *Utterly ridiculous!* Just as he rounded a corner, an errant bee flew straight up his nose. Surprised, he broke stride, tripping and falling to the pavement as he scrabbled furiously at his face, snorting and attempting to dislodge the bee. He finally managed to eject it and sat up, rubbing at his bruised and scratched arms and knees. A bare whisper of sound behind him raised the hairs on the back of his neck, as did the chill wind that swept over him despite the warmth of the day. He looked up.

You're only making this hard on yourself, you know.

Flash crab-walked backward from the grisly reaper, eyes wide in terror. "N-no!" he gasped out. "I-i-i-it's not my time! I—I have so much left to do! I—"

Death drew an hourglass from his robes.

I don't have the time or patience for this. On your feet. We're leaving.

He punctuated that statement by giving Flash a very close-up view of the razor edge of his scythe. Flash gulped nervously, then bowed his head in defeat and stood. "Alright," he said, swallowing. "J-just...can I have a minute to, to s-say goodbye to...to my—"

Death tilted his robed head.

There's no need for dramatic farewells.

With that, he glided back toward the hearse. Flash sighed glumly and followed. Death opened the rear passenger side door and swept a skeletal hand forward, gesturing for Flash to enter. Flash's heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he ducked into the car.

Then he blinked.

The inside, instead of being designed to carry a casket, looked more like a rather cramped limousine, with padded benches along both sides and a seat behind the driver. "What the—?"

The door closed; a minute later, the driver's door opened, and Death clambered in, tossing Flash's bag into the back as he laid his scythe in the passenger seat.

I have a few stops to make before I take you home.

Death started the engine. A haunting and familiar classic rock song issued from the car stereo.

Flash blinked. "T-take me home?" he stammered.

He got the sense Death was peering at him curiously as the car pulled away from the curb.

Well of course. You did request an Uber, didn't you?

Flash's jaw dropped. "Y-you mean this is...? I'm...I'm not...?"

Death chuckled. The sound made Flash's brain scream.

Not yet, no.

The hearse smoothly navigated busy commercial roads and quiet neighborhood streets, with the same song playing on loop. Flash idly drummed his hands in his lap. "So, are you...I mean, are you really—?"

Death? Yes.

Flash shuddered. "I, uh, I see," he said lamely. "Umm...s-so you, uh...you're Death, but you're driving an Uber."

It's the government shutdown. We're all having to take side jobs to make ends meet.

"You're shitting me."

Let's just say I'm looking forward to the day I meet the President. Very much so.

Flash gulped.

In time, Death pulled into a familiar neighborhood, coming to a stop in front of a house Flash recognized. "Hey, this is—"

Remain here.

Death exited the car. A few minutes later, the passenger door opened again, and a man Flash Sentry knew all too well climbed into the car. He was dressed in a mortician's suit at least a century and a half out of date and had unhealthy-looking, wrinkled yellow skin, deep creases around his mouth, a hooked nose, and thick eyebrows. Balding on top, his grey hair was full in the back and on the sides, framing his broad, intimidating face in an iron curtain. His right eye was squinted closed; combined with the creases in his face and the downturned sneer of his wide lips, this gave him a fiercely angry expression.

"Grandpa Angus!" Flash exclaimed.

Angus Sentry squinted at Flash, baring his uneven yellow teeth. "Boooooyyyyyy," he rumbled. He took a seat on the bench across from Flash, staring stonily at him. Death got back into the driver's seat and pulled away from the curb.

Flash picked at the hem of his hoodie. "S-so, uhh..." He looked up at Angus with a game smile. "Coming over to visit with Dad, huh?"

No, he's going...somewhere else.

"Oh," Flash said, mulling that over. "Umm...doctor's appointment?"

Bit late for that, I should think.

Flash blinked at that. He started to ask another question, then stopped, his eyes wide and his face pale. "You mean he's—?!"

Dead, yes.

Flash stared in shock at Death, then at his grandfather, then at Death again. A long silence stretched out in the hearse.

Awkward...