Jessica hated Death. It was a deep seeded hatred fueled by a need for revenge. Revenge against a being that had done nothing but harm her throughout her life. Death was her enemy, an enemy she knew well, and she was finally prepared to wage war against him.

Jessica looked down to the wooden floor of her one bedroom apartment and smiled to herself as she examined the white markings she had drawn upon it. To her the symbols were only circles and triangles, but the books she had purchased told her otherwise. They told her the symbols would protect her from Death's touch if she sat within their boundaries when she summoned his presence. They told her he would be powerless when they looked into each other's eyes if she strayed not from the protective chalk lines. The books also told her it was a ritual no one had ever before successfully completed.

"Your time is coming you son of a bitch," Jessica proclaimed through clenched teeth. "I will be the end of you."

As Jessica walked to the cabinet which stored the candles she would need her eyes caught hold of the picture that sat upon her dining room table. She saw her two sons, Michael and Bradley, smiling at her as they held their father Adam close. Adam's eyes seemed to follow her as she walked past, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. His eyes also seemed ready to cry, even though the event which would mark his death hadn't been written on any calendar at the time the picture was taken. Jessica became entranced by the images the picture was bringing back to her and stopped moving. She could remember the day with perfect clarity. A beautiful summer day. A family picnic in the park. Their last day together. She could remember her children laughing as they ran and played like all children do. She could remember them screaming at her and Adam, begging them to watch them perform their newest feats of skill. She could even remember snapping the picture as her husband was tackled by their children when he stole their football.

"You Bastard," Jessica screamed aloud as she felt tears run down her face. "You took them away from me. You took away my happiness. You took away my joy. I haven't had a day like that since you came into our lives. Since you came into my life."

"Quiet down in there," someone ordered as they pounded on the wall and interrupted Jessica's monologue. Jessica didn't reply to the man she could only hear, instead she let the tears finish their decent quietly as she looked at the picture. When the last drop of water rolled down her face she turned her head and finished her walk to the cabinet.

Inside the upper left hand drawer Jessica found five white candles, one to mark each point of the star. The books had told her to burn five unscented candles of whatever colour came first to her mind when she thought about her objective, and she had chosen white because whenever she thought of Death she thought of the man in the white cloak.

Whenever she thought of the man in the white cloak Jessica could see him. His image was as clear to her as her own reflection was in a mirror. The first time she had only seen him out of the corner of her eye as he came into the hospital room and quietly took her Mother away from her. The next time she had spotted him was a few years later as he stood at a distance and bowed his head, seemingly mourning her Father with her. She had seen him more clearly that time, but when he noticed her gaze upon him he quickly walked away. Even then, before he played an even greater role in her life, Jessica had associated the man with Death.

The white cloak, which seemed to glow in both the light and the dark, covered the man's body from head to toe. Even his hands could not be seen hanging from the long sleeves. Both great sorrow and extraordinary joy could be seen in his facial expressions. He seemed to understand the pain of all who saw him, but he also seemed to understand the peace of the recently departed. His skin looked pale as if he were cold and dead, but there was something about him that seemed to radiate a comforting heat. A heat Jessica had only known temporarily.

"Why couldn't you have taken me too?", she asked quietly as she placed the candles upon the floor in the points of the star. "Why couldn't you have let us all go off together? Why did let you let me feel your warmth if you weren't planning on taking me along?"

The day of the accident, the day after the picnic, Jessica and her family had been traveling down the interstate highway in their blue sedan. Michael and Bradley had been arguing in the back seat over who would win the main event in the evenings wrestling pay per view. Michael thought it would be The Undertaker, while Bradley choose his favourite grappler Stone Cold Steve Austin. Adam had been sitting next to her in the passenger's seat smiling to himself, listening to their children argue, and probably thinking that it was time The Undertaker shone as the champion once more. They had all been off in their own little worlds, and when Jessica saw the white cloaked man standing on the side of the road looking at their car she knew no one else had seen him.

He had stood motionless, looking towards them. The man's gaze had lain upon her and her family for what seemed like an eternity, as if time had stopped moving. Jessica had been so drawn to him that she hadn't noticed the sixteen wheel tractor trailer veering off it's side of the road and heading directly towards them. She hadn't noticed until she heard her husband shout out and the horn of the truck whine, but by then it had been too late.

Jessica stood to her feet. She undid the button and zipper of her jeans, and let them slowly slide down her long legs to the floor. She lifted her white t-shirt over her head, and flung it to a dark corner of the room. The books told her that nothing could restrict her, nothing could cover her, and nothing could be allowed to protect her dignity. If she was to succeed in her battle, the books said, she must be willing to lay everything on the line without hesitation. And Jessica was more then willing, so without a second thought she removed her socks and undergarments and left them crumpled in a pile upon the floor.

For a moment Jessica stopped what she was doing, and as she looked down upon her naked body she felt ashamed. She knew that if her family were there they would never have known her. It had only been a year since they had passed away, but within the year she had let herself go to her own personal hell. Not only had her mind seemingly lost it's way on the path of sanity, but her malnutritioned, pale white body also looked to have lost it's desire to survive.

"Can't stop now," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth. "I've gone this far and I gotta keep going. The bastard must pay."

Jessica's moment of weakness passed, and she dropped her arms to her side as she moved into the centre of the circle. Before she knelt she pushed aside the knife and matches with her bare foot which were the only objects between the chalk lines with her. As she knelt, balanced only upon her toes, she recalled the words the book had told her to memorize and began to recite them.

The words were foreign to her and held no meaning. They stumbled off her tongue, and she spit them from her mouth as if they tasted bitter. The books had taught her how to pronounce them, but they told her nothing of their meaning and only said they were a necessary part of the ritual. Her eyes looked up and to the left at an empty corner of the room as she spoke, but soon she lowered her head and reached for  the matches that lay to the right of her foot without a break in her speech.

Jessica lit the first match, and as it flared to life she looked towards the candle in the northern point of the star. She continued to chant as she bowed her head to the white candle, and placed the tip of the burning stick upon the exposed wick. When the candle was aflame she shook the match until it's fire was nothing more then a stream of grey smoke and threw it away from the circle. She turned counter clockwise from candle to candle, preforming the same routine until all candles were alight.

"My life is not for you," Jessica spoke aloud defiantly as she turned to face the northern point one more. The final stage of the ritual was about be preformed, and it was a stage the books had told her that she must write the words to. They were to be her words of challenge to Death, and no book could tell her what to say. "My life is my own, and none shall take it from me. I defy you and all you stand for. I am she that shall be named the killer of Death."

The room grew silent as Jessica's last word died away. She reached down, placed her hand upon the steel blade of the kitchen knife, and tightly closed her fist around it. She could feel it bite into her flesh and draw warm blood from her. She lifted the knife and used her other hand to delicately slide it from her clenched fist.

"Come and get me," Jessica stated to the barren room as she used the knife to slit open the vein of her left wrist. She shivered and moaned lightly at the pain, but it didn't stop her from taking the knife with her left hand and using it to cut open the right wrist in the same fashion. "Come and get me."

Jessica felt her life blood flowing from her, but her will was strong and she would not give up. She sat down upon the floor, crossing her legs and bowing her head almost in the same instant. Her hands she joined together in an symbolic display of unity. Her mind was growing foggy and her eyesight was growing dim, but she fought the urge to sleep. 'He will be here soon,' she thought. 'Just like the last time.'

Jessica had never known as much physical pain as she had known the day her families car had been hit head on. It had even hurt to think, but her mind had furiously continued to work as it tried to remember every last detail of the crash. The scream of her husband, the horn of the truck, the cries of her children, and snap shots of images without any fluidity to them were all she could remember. As she laid in pain, she had seen a white light approach her and had felt it's warmth surround her.

The light had made her forget her pain, and she had found herself able to turn her head and look directly towards it. The first thing she could remember seeing was the man in the white cloak standing over husband. Adam hadn't been moving, and Jessica had known instantly that he was dead. The man in the white cloak touched her husbands forehead and drew a light from him, freeing it from it's mortal shell. He had then moved to the bodies of her children. Jessica had known that they too were dead even before he drew their light from them. Once he had finished Jessica could remember him turning and walking towards her.

She had been frightened at first, but the pain she had been feeling longed for his touch. If her pain had been able to speak it would have gladly accepted the invitation of Death, but neither it nor her body had been able to say a word. She had only been able to watch as his hand drew close and suddenly pulled away. She had only been able to feel the heat turn into bitter cold and watch the light fade to darkness as the man walked away with the souls of her family.

Jessica lifted her head with what little strength she had left as she saw her apartment room brighten. She could feel the warmth of Death's light before she could even see the man. She tried to call out to him, but the words that came to her mind could not flow from her mouth. 'I've failed,' she thought as she watched Death come to the edge of the circle and reach out to touch her.

She watched the pale hand of Death stop suddenly. It was unable to penetrate the unseen barrier that lay between them. He walked slowly around to another point along the circle and tried to reach in to her once more, but again he was stopped. He pulled his hand back and let the long white cloak silently reclaim it, and he stood without movementlooking in towards Jessica.

Jessica saw the face of Death and wondered if she had been wrong about him. His face was not one of a cold hearted killer like she had been expecting, instead it was the face of a warm hearted, passionate man. With but one glimpse of his sorrowful eyes Jessica knew she had been mistaken about him all along. His mouth he held in neither a frown nor a smile as he tiled his head to look at her. His pale hands at first lay to his sides, but soon he raised them and joined them together by interlocking his fingers.

"Will you not come with me Jessica?", Death asked quietly in a soothing voice.

"No," Jessica replied in nothing more then a gasp. "I must defeat you."

"You have already defeated me, for I cannot take you unless you let me. You have a choice in the matter now."

Jessica smiled weakly as she felt satisfaction flow throughout her body. She had won, and it felt good. The books had told her that none had ever before been successful, and yet here she was victorious. If she could have gloated, or jumped up and down in joy she would have, but she found that she had no strength to do either. Something wasn't right, but she didn't know what it was.

"What's wrong with me?", she lightly asked herself aloud.

"Your body is dead," Death responded, "but your soul has not yet left it."

"How can I speak if my body is dead?", Jessica asked sarcastically.

"You can speak and move a little in my presence, but once I leave you will be alone, trapped in your shell. Allow me to take you to your peace, and you can avoid eternal damnation."

Jessica realized what it was she had done. She had wanted revenge, but the defeat the books had mentioned did not mean the demise of Death, they had only meant the individual avoidance of Death. The ritual had allowed her to defeat Death by giving her the choice of giving her soul to him, or keeping it for herself. And if she kept it for herself, she had no means of using it. She had won, but it had cost her her life.

'Nobody has ever been successful before because there is no way to succeed,' Jessica thought, 'or is he bluffing? Maybe I haven't won yet. Maybe this is a test.'

"No, I won't go with you," she stated bluntly upon deciding to call the pale man's bluff. "I don't believe you."

"That is your choice," he replied, "but never shall I return for you, and never shall you rejoin your friends and family."

"Shut up!" Jessica screamed. Death's words had struck a cord; a cord she didn't wish to hear. 'What if he isn't lying?,' she thought. "I did this for my family. I did this to avenge them. They will understand my decision."

"Will they? Will they understand why you choose to be alone? Will they understand why you choose not to rejoin them? Would they have ever asked you to make such a sacrifice for them, without first knowing what it is you sacrifice?"

"Yes."

"Maybe they will understand, but will you? When you are alone, trapped, and rotting in the ground, will you still be able to say that you understand? Will you not regret the path you have chosen?"

Jessica felt Death's words touch her. She wanted to ask for his forgiveness. She wanted to ask him to take her away.But she didn't. She would not let her will be broken, and she would not let her course go astray. When the day had begun she had been willing to risk everything to defeat the man in the white cloak, and now that the day was coming to an end she was still just as willing.

"Go away," she mumbled lightly.

"As you wish," Death replied as he turned from the circle and walked away slowly, taking his light and heat with him.

Jessica lay motionless upon the wooden floor, staring up to her left where last her gaze had lain. All her strength had left her, and she could not move even her eyes. Already her mind had begun to question her decision, but it was something she would forever have to live with. She wondered how long it would take for someone to find her, and she wondered if she would feel anything as the undertaker removed what was left of her blood and filled her body with embalming fluid. She even wondered if she would feel her body decay. Those were questions she knew she would know the answers to all too soon.

'I'm sorry,' she thought, hoping that somehow her husband and children would hear. And then her soul began to scream, and it didn't stop for quite some time.