Hollywood Star
If you asked Death what the most asked questions before crossing to the afterlife were.
Well.
You’d realise just how much faith she’d lost her in mortals, as the trending topic was some middle aged actress she’d never heard of before.
“What? No! I can’t be dead already!” said the first of them.
“If I had a nickel…”
“Agatha Harkness’s new movie releases tomorrow!”
And it just… kept happening. Time after time. Maybe she should retire.
“Am I dead?” asked someone else.
“Indeed.”
And they- sighed. “I didn’t get to meet Agatha Harkness.”
Death was not happy about the whole ordeal.
“This is it?” yet another soul, nothing new.
“Yup.”
“Woah. I mean, I knew Agatha Harkness and Kingo co-starring a musical would kill me… But I didn’t think I’d die right after.”
And there it was.
Although.
It didn’t take long for Death to grow curious.
“Damn, I wanted to watch Agatha Harkness’s new interview before I left,” said some other poor, unfortunate soul.
“Who is she, anyway?”
Death could carry conversations sometimes.
“Agatha? Just the best Hollywood actress ever.”
“Huh.”
Death wasn’t one to listen to the soul’s rambling.
“Man, I didn’t even get to know if she and Kingo were dating for real.”
Death didn’t even pretend to pay attention.
Death was then in Hollywood.
There was a corpse on a bench.
“I’m sorry.”
Death did feel pity in some occasions.
The man merely shook his head. “I was hoping to leave already.”
It was in very few occasions that Death received an altruistic smile.
“Any last wish before you go?”
Death could be generous too.
“I thank you for your kindness, lady Death. You’re nothing like the folk tell. But I’d like to rest in peace for once, if you could help me.”
And even fewer ever thanked her.
“Of course.”
The door to the afterlife awaited behind them. And, of course, it was an Agatha Harkness billboard the size of twelve school buses, if public education was a thing.
Death stopped in her tracks.
The man realised.
“I see. Even eternal entities are invested in our local treasures.” The man only chuckled. “She’s astounding, isn’t she?”
She liked the man enough not to feel offended.
And Death had just realised who, of all people, this Agatha Harkness was.
“She’s a witch.”
A beat of silence.
He just sighed. “I should’ve guessed.”
He disappeared behind Agatha’s image then.
Death, also, had a family. A coven of her own, if you will.
“The Witchkiller? In Hollywood?”
Strength was, out of the three, the nicest one to Death.
“Yes.”
“Of course she killed Arishem just to become a full time actress.”
Knowledge was her least favorite sibling for a reason.
Apparently, many other deities did not know that information.
“She did what!”
But of course, Time was the best of them all.
“Is she a deity too, then?” Death had asked her once they were alone.
“Huh?”
“Agatha. You know, since she can absorb powers from everyone.”
“The Witchkiller?” Time also snorted. “She’s but a mere mortal with an ego the size of my dick.”
“Could she not take your power?”
“She could,” Time said. “But she would not know what to make of it. We are the original coven, of course, she may have taken the power of two celestials very well, but there’s no replacement for us.”
“Could she kill us?”
“It would kill her to try.”
Death, somehow, ended up on Agatha Harkness’s path.
“You’re internationally famous. And a millionaire. Did you really need to take her life?”
Death defended the souls sometimes.
“Excuse you?”
The Witchkiller was surprisingly beautiful for a serial killer.
Apparently Death had mortal-like thoughts now.
“You killed her. I thought you were done killing witches.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
Death was offended other times, such as these.
She stepped away from the shadow that covered the upper half of her body.
Shockingly so, Agatha actually is capable of feeling something close enough to respect. She may have killed Arishem in a heartbeat, but the woman in front of her had known her for too long. Agatha knew she had, she’d seen that face in her nightmares.
“Long time no see.”
Death, Rio Vidal in that appearance, smiled for one.
“So you do know me.”
“You tell me.”
Rio bent down and caressed the corpse. Agatha took a hint and walked away.
“What happened?” Rio asked the soul.
“‘Twas the witchkiller! I couldn’t let her escape!”
Mortals are dumb.
Rio, the appearance that suited her best to meet with Agatha, found her next to yet another corpse.
Weren’t celebrity scandals a thing? Or was she falling into Time’s delusions?
Divination witches, she swore to goddess.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Agatha smiled, nothing like the altruistic smile the man from the bench had given her some time back.
Death was fooled by nobody. Most of times.
“What did you do now?”
Agatha scoffed, offended, as if Rio didn’t previously know her only as the Witchkiller.
“Why do you assume I’m the problem? I only put people to sleep temporarily, I’ve literally returned most of my power already. If people attack me first, it’s not my fault.”
Death had only reaped souls who’d taken the offense on her. Then again, Agatha was, allegedly, the best actress of all time.
Rio bent down and asked the soul accordingly, Agatha leaving as such. “What happened?”
“She killed me! Just as I’ve been told, she has no sympathy for other witches!”
Death shouldn’t be biased.
Yet Death wouldn’t believe a word from the souls she’d reap from Agatha again.
Death still got to reap souls that weren’t Agatha’s victims.
She didn’t know if her lovers were worse than her haters.
“Can I watch Agatha Harkness’ films in heaven?”
“If you get there, then, sure.”
At some point, Death thought learning about her planet’s culture wouldn’t hurt anybody.
Rio Vidal was then inside a movie theatre.
“Hey, babe,” a man much, much younger than her said. “What’s a pretty lady like you doing here all alone?”
Death had never thought twice about how she looked.
Death wished they’d allow her in even on her rotting skeleton appearance.
Rio was no longer Rio when she shapeshifted into a man that resembled Santa Claus if anything, and got to watch the movie in peace.
Death was allowed to have celebrity crushes. She was just a girl after all.