The sky itself was tired. The outlook was grey and listless, drab, as if to strike down any chance for sunshine. The schoolyard was deserted in the weather, but one figure remained. He was a young man, with ancient eyes that knew more than they let on. He appeared to have a walking stick, although he had no limp. He was leaning on the split trunk of a centuries old tree, enjoying the condition of grey. A light rain was dripping through the pine needles onto his head and black garb.
He was silent as he hefted his walking stick and looped it above his shoulders. The life he lived was longer than time and a rather depressing one, if he cared to think of his life as pointless. Oh no, this young man knew he had a needed existence in the lives of man. Right now he was on the job, and yet he should be getting out of the rain soon. The child he was looking for wasn't outside; nobody who cared about their well being was out in this morose weather.
The tintinnabulum of the school bell interrupted his philosophical reasoning of his existence. He must get inside to do his job. The child was waiting.
Sighing, the man flipped up the collar of his jacket and with his heavy leather boots he sauntered across the mud and grass. The man's senses were acute beyond human reach and he could hear the soft squish of his boot soles sinking into the mud and the subtle bending of the grass over itself. His dark eyes looked up at the school's grand entry way and jogged his way up the cement steps. As he wiped his feet on the mat he could feel the eyes of the school secretary and the vice principal slide over him. He was nondescript to them, and because of his average looks the eyes of mortals did not see him. Not until it was their time. They were quite safe for now. Dark and looming like a raven, he was not coming for them but instead he was reaching out to the boy child.
~Dedicated to my personal 'Death'~
