I've yet to see a thread like this on Veeky Forums so lets try it

I've yet to see a thread like this on Veeky Forums so lets try it.
Take the prompt and write 200 words (minimum) about it, in your own style.

Other urls found in this thread:

reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6eytds/wp_after_people_die_they_must_answer_a_riddle_and/
twitter.com/NSFWRedditVideo

Death then pulled out his cock from under the robe and then assfucked OP's mom with it for 18,000,000,000 hours.

Haha, nice one man!
Reported.

Reddit Jones reread his writing prompt several times before leaning back into his beanbag. "What a twist," thought Reddit, "A story in which a major character...dies. Who would have expected that?" He immediately put his 107 IQ to work. "Which characters died in season four of Game of Thrones?" he asked himself, recalling how his excitement when its trailer dropped.

"Yeah, well, you fucking suck at your job, so there." said Humphrey, the Time Reversal Snail. Death didn't like Humphrey. In fact, Death had a seething hatred for Humphrey. Even his name would have made Death's blood boil, if he had any.

Who gave a snail this job? Who thought it was a good idea to give someone the power to reverse time within a relative temporal area? This little shit would show up and reverse time for Death's clients. How can you kill a baby-faced twenty something, or a baby goat. Death had been trying to end Gary the Goat's life for nearly three thousand years, but every few decades Humphrey would always show up and reverse Gary's age. Every. Single. Time. After five-hundred years of this, Death finally started just putting Gary on the end of his list. Why not, when that little shit would always show up. Fuck that guy.

...

seriously these fucking writing prompts are just shitty little "clever" ideas -- always a bland setup with some "twist" -- which neither need nor deserve an actual narrative fleshing-out.

writing prompts are unilaterally cancerous

it's. just. a little harmless fun? why are you people so edgy?

be like this guy.

Chuck Spaceman unbuckled his gunbelt and tossed it, with a thud, onto the wooden table of the intergalactic saloon. Across the table, Death was staring him down.

"You're early," Death finally said. "Yeah. I guess I just couldn't wait." A long moment passed. Some moon-dust blew in beneath the creaking doors. "I suppose you've come to take what's yours?" Slowly, deliberately, Chuck Spaceman began to unbutton the fly of his Levi's 510's. "You got that straight." With the weariness of eons, Death hauled his carcass off the faded pleather seat, and lifted his robe. "Then let's get it over with."

Even the dim lighting of the tavern shone easily through the diaphanous skin covering Death's thighs and ass. It seemed almost to be pulled taut against his bones. Though it had withered and shrivelled around his anus, the opening was still visible.

Chuck's cock slipped into Death's ass like a powerlifter putting on a child's baseball glove. There was the sound of tearing, and something moved of its own volition, inside, brushing against his dickflesh with a tickle.

What followed thereafter, he was sure, would have made his father proud. He held nothing back, showed no mercy. Chuck was in control now, and he knew it: he had conquered Death itself. As he pulled out, however, and before he could gloat, his quarry's ghoulish hand brushed his own, then closed insistently around his wrist. "You really ought to get tested," Death said, and vanished.

The sound of laughter faded into the distance. Chuck Spaceman looked down at his cock, hanging flaccid from his jeans, still glistening with a sickening moisture; and as the poppers began to wear off, he realized what he had done. He had Space AIDS.

>edgy
nice thought-terminating cliche, loser

you. talk. like a fag?

You mean type?

My self insert looks at a physical manifestation of the idea of death. The symbol created to anthropomorphize the end of mortality looks at the caricature of myself chosen to follow the established plot.

"You're early," the morbid depiction finally says.

I do away with reddit spacing. We must wait for one more.
"Where is OP? Where is the man that has finally brought us together?"
No response.
"Is he busy, sucking cocks or masturbating his ego online?"
Some would say I am wasting my time.
"Perhaps he might be checking out Veeky Forums for the fourth time right now."
The vision before me doesn't even sway in the wind.
"Hey, representation of the human entropy, technically you'll be around as long as something can imagine you. Would you ever be such a faggot that you'd do writing prompts and post them online? If you like to do it, sure, you'd love to have someone stroke your ego over it. You can also use it to make reference to other works so that people will have a better idea of how much of a sperg you are."
"No."
Death agrees. All we must do is wait for OP to kill himself.

>You mean type?

Suddenly Humphrey, the Time Reversal Snail showed up. "If I reverse time, we can make it as if OP never even made the thread!" For the first time, Death finally agreed with the tiny creature.

He always mutters such things in the wake of a mirror. Meshed into one suit, supported on a cane, he stumbled out.
The tales of coffee shops and iridescent puddles told him otherwise. Robes embroidered his figure.
"Why do you run away?" Death inquires.
The shallow breath retorts, "Absurd."

The computer screen dims from inactivity. Death still greets in the disconnected surface of the computer.
"What are you doing?"

The pale office lighting reveals only one shadow in the room. Bags stuffed with nothing, and scribbled sticky notes pollute his vision.
In a meek recorded manner, he pushes in the desk chair, turns away the screen, and pulls the nothings with a tight wrist.

The feeble digital light murmurs the time to him. 9:53 P.M.
The bottle reflects Death's face once more.
"Come join me," says Death. The room only reveals a pair of shoulders, slumped.
"Soon enough."

Most posters here are unable to write on the fanfiction.net-tier level of casual internet writers, so they hide behind memes and deflection to avoid exposing their lack of """talent.""" Look at how this entire thread fills up with cynical attacks on the prompt instead of actual attempts at fulfilling it.

>genreplebs

yeah it must be some freudian projection bullshit instead of not wanting plebbit garbage on Veeky Forums

My self insert ironically embraces the absurd as a means to an end. What sweeter oblivion could there be than that of temporal destruction?
Humphry, the Time Reversal Snail, the representation of the highest ideal, and the caricature of an anonymous writer join hands.
"Wait, what if we don't just undo this thread? What if we go back and stop OP and so they never even left Reddit? Then I can finally kill myself in peace".
Humphrey and Death are all over it. We're going to cut away a few cancer cells and slightly delay the inevitable, knowing that a secret area of a quality of very important people awaits.

Saved.

Wow, that's fucking gay.

BRAAAAAAAAAPT
Death: "well I'm glad you came as soon as you did this stuff is great"
BR-BR-BRAAAAAAPT
Death: "please don't stop I love the way this just takes over a room"
bbbbrrrrrAAAAAAAPPTTT
Death: "thankfully I don't have eyes or they'd be burning right now"

Thanks.

please plea se please continue i am going to be banned if i post any more braapp

"What d'ya mean, EARLY, man?! I was just living my life. Just LIVING my LIFE?"

Yeah, that was me, ten years ago. Yellin' at death about my life.

My style is too derivative of Raymond Carver, so it's pretty minimalistic. I tend to avoid dialogue tags, especially adverbs. Most of you would probably find it cringey. Here goes:

"You're early," Death said.
The man shrugged. "And?"
Death put on his coat and they walked to the busstop two blocks away. The sun tried to break through the gray sheet of the sky but failed. They sat in silence on the bench and waited.
Death drank his coffeet and looked at his watch. "You don't talk much."
The man frowned at him.
Death shrugged and said, "Well, the bus is taking its time. Don't make this awkward."
"Alright. What the hell do you want me to say?"
"I dunno, talk about the fucking weather. Jesus."
"It's depressing. Happy?"
"Not particularly."
Death was growing impatient now and kept checking watch.
"Can you stop that?" The man said. "You're iritating the hell of me. Have some patience."
Death chokes on his coffee. "Call me impatient? Says the faggot who knocks at my door at 5 in the goddamn morning. Prick."
"Fuck off."
An elderly couple walked by and waved. They were smiling. Death frowned at them and pulled a sandwich from his coat.
"Want some? It's salami."
"Gross."
"Suit yourself."
A breeze came in and it felt cool the man's neck. He was content.
A ringing came from Death's coatpocket, and he pulled out his cellphone. "Yello? Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Okay. Alright. Buh-bye." He hung up the phone then turned to the man. "Driver called in sick."
The man cursed loudly , stood up and began to walk away.
Death hollered the man made his way down the street. "Sorry, my dude! Give me another call here in a few weeks!"

He waited till the man was out sight, said "Sucker," and finished his sandwich and coffee in perfect silence.

kek

>the morbid depiction
Damn user, I know you're shitposting, but that is just fucking awful.

I TRIED SO HARD

Okay take me back then lol.

Powerlifter putting on a child's baseball glove holy shit. Good post.

I enjoyed it, particularly the sandwich bit.

No, you are just on time.
I had been certain that only one enemy remained, well two if you counted god.
But now i am certain that you, pale rider should die by my pancake sword!
The golden retriever that consume the earth is also out of his inter dimensional prision
yes
YES

Blog? Ao3?
Books you enjoy?
This is very pretty, user.

No, it's because this shit stinks, but to prove it:

"You're early," Death finally says.
"Finally, man? Really? You're going to include finally there when you know the number one rule of dialogue is to just stick with said?"
"You-"
"And yes I'm going to assume you're omnipotent enough to have made that erroneous as-fuck error, and I'm going to take it upon myself to have you not correct the style choice of 'as-fuck' in my last clause nor explain to me why you're letting me ramble on like this."
"You're early."
"We've established that. Does that mean I can go back to my bleedingly annotated copy of Ulysses?"
"Yes, but know that you're never going to be Joyce or Shakespeare or even Delillo you shitbird."
"Fair enough. Peace fag."

That was awful. You need philosophy man, you seem very insecure

A voice, seemingly coming from all directions, lets out a soft "You're early." Despite it's softness the voice makes the room feel heavier.
Knowing what he had just done 10 minutes prior, the man could only suspect that death itself has arrived to his home.
"Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter now does it?" said the man, looking over towards his body now laying on his clean red oak floor that cost him a fortune to install. Blood pooling onto his throw rug, destroying it's value.
Death now stands behind the mans soul; joining the man in staring at the body.
"Perhaps you are right, as this is merely a role I fulfill. But may I ask you something?",
"Sure, go for it." The man turns to face death. "Why did you take your own life?". After a moment of silence the man responds "Because I just saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico."

"You're early," Death finally says as a strangely dressed man walks into the waiting room and up to his desk. The room was otherwise empty of occupants, except for the decapitated body in one of the chairs pretending to read an old copy of Mad Magazine.
"Yeah... Sorry about.. that." Said the man as he signed the clipboard with 'Sign in please :)' written at the top.
Death looked up from his game of Windows 95 Solitaire and was able to get a clear look at him. He was dressed in a cheap Batman costume, some sort of steel cable noose was tied around his neck. The crotch was cut out of the costume and his penis had been severed.
Death sighed, "You know, when I posted that, I didn't think this many of you would actually do it."
"What?"
"The post, you know, from-" Death cut himself off before going on another tangent. Gorgo had already warned him that if management got one more complaint about Death yelling at customers about the "tibetan finger painting forums" he frequents, upper management may force him into disciplinary action.
"From... what?" Said Batman. Death jumped, realizing he had been staring at no-penis while spacing out.
"Nevermind, nothing important."

No worries famalam, imma just have a quick nap then...
>one short sleepe past wee wake eternally;
>and death shall be no more, Death, thou shalt die
heh nuthin personnel kid

"Early eh? I'll tell you what Death -stupid macho speech about not being afraid of death-"

"Your early" he finally says.
I look at him now."You talkin' to me?" Pause. "You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?
How about that. It's starting to grow one of those deer startled looks in it's eyeballs. I turn around, look behind me. "Well, then who the hell else are you talking, you talking to me?"
Nothing? Nada. "Well, I'm the only one here. Who the fuck do you think you're talking to? Oh yeah? Huh? 'kay"
Death leaves. Not today motherfucker.

"You're early," Death finally concludes.
"You still don't seem happy? Do you prefer me older? Will i stay like this for ever? What about the others? Who will i see again?
What are you going to do? Will i be death for a while? Or will i go straight to the other lumberjacks? Is segregation still a thing? I mean how can one be equal if we aren't equal before death? Does death make us equals? I don't mean you, i mean the others.
Man don't you get bored? I mean i can't be the first guy asking that stuff.
So what was my verdict? Sentence? Am i free to go? To go where i don't even know, ha!"

"I don't suppose that means you'll send me back?" Asked Micheal. Death's face was impassive. Not the grinning skull Micheal had been anticipating. More like a neutral mask. As Death spoke, the mask remained motionless.

"It doesn't work like that, Mike." Death beckoned Micheal closer. His gait was uneven. His new body, if it even really was a body, protested the most basic motions. Even his words slurred.

"Mike? What, are you supposed to be my friend?"

"I am. I know you better than anyone."

"And you say I'm early."

"By about 10 years, yes." A door materialised out of the blackness behind Death. Micheal could swear it was the same door f the house he'd grown up in.

"Does that change things? In the real world I mean?" The door opened silently and smoothly.

"Probably. I'm still running the numbers on that." Death fell in step with Micheal. His practiced, graceful motions made Micheal look like a baby trying to walk. Truth be told, he didn't really want to go through the door.

"What's through there? Nothingness? The end?"

"Our conversation should be evidence enough that there's something more after." Micheal nodded sluggishly. He supposed that made sense.

"But what is it?"

"I don't know, I've never been there. I'm fairly sure I can't know."

"That must be very lonely." Death didn't respond. He stopped at the precipice while Micheal stepped through. Micheal became less distinct, fading as he hobbled down a corridor that wasn't there.

"What if I'm alone?" Micheal asked as he dissipated. His voice echoed for a moment longer. "I really don't want to be alone."

The door itself began to fade. Death lifted a hand to pass through the precipice. As he made contact, the door became dust.

"Goodbye Mike, I hope you're not alone." Death turned away and waited for the next one. More would come soon.

i bend, and take the bony fist. I can feel the pinch of the joints of his hand on my rectal walls and i moan with pleasure as I submit to Death.
*record scratch*
yep, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got into this situation

'Nice get-up you have there. I'm loving this whole "Reaperman" vibe you've got going on, but ... '
'YOU'RE EARLY.'
'Yeah, well ... I was just reading this comic book by Neil Gaiman, have you heard of him?'
'DEATH KNOWS EVERYBODY. EVENTUALLY.'
'That's great, just great. Anyway, uh. Do you know what "Rule 34" is?'
' ... '
'I may have made a slight mistake.'

10/10

-"You're early," Death finally says.
-"Is that a problem?", responded the figure entering the room.
-"I, well-" mumbled the spectre. "Most people aren't quite so eager to meet us".
-"Most people, yes. Quite right."

The room was dimly lit and reeked heavily with a mixture of chloride and talcum powder. The figure, now sliding sofly closer to Death, procured a briefcase from its side and deftly placed the correct numbers on the lock. There was a second, a breath, before the briefcase was opened.

The room darkened, the stench grew stronger yet imperceptible. Whatever was inside the case filled the room with dread, it numbed the senses, or overstimulated them. There was no space for coherent thought. There was no time.

The briefcase was closed again, and both occupants stood up. Death reached out with a bony hand; -"A pleasure, as always, old friend."

-"Do not mistake our relationship for friendship."
A moment of silence. Death took his hand back.
-"We will meet again, as usual."
-"Yes. As usual."

Death turned back onto the small table in the centre of the room. A small envelope had been left behing, as per usual.

"What have you got for me today, Adonai?", as the envelope was delicately opened.

The note was unfolded, still.

>The Game

"Heh." giggled Death.

This is the worst attempt at being funny in the whole thread, I applaud you for the effort

How about 200 words MAX amoyroite gents?

"Hello there my name is Susie what's yours?" she smiled and lightly bounced, quietly screaming for a response.

The darkness subsisted while Death uncloaked, stepping out of the shadow of his robe. "Well..." he began, at first to stall but then in honest reflection. "I have been called many names."

"I bet you haven't been called Sunshine teehee."

"None are mine."

"Whatdya mean?"

The skeletal, obscure figure drew closer. "Uh... well I make my own name and they are all wrong."

"But everyone's name is given. OH WAIT! You just have to choose one." She smiled far too much for his taste. Her grin pierced his carnal wrath. "Do you have a favorite??"

"Well... Death is... simple. Easy. I do enjoy.... hmmm... Grim. Yes that too. Grim.... Death?

"Hahahahaha that's silly. Death is like your play name. Or work name. Is it play or work for you?"

He stared and she stared and eventually she talked again. "Well that scythe makes you look like a reaper..... LIFE REAPER!"

"What about... The Grim?"

"Hmmm. The grim WHAT? Bagel? Patricide? Void?? Oh hehehe. Reaper."

"Grim... Reaper. Hmmmm."

"I think it makes you sound spooky and menacing like a ghost!"

"My real name is ________"

"Wow. Okay. Well. Maybe build your way up to that. Is there candy here? In deathland? Deathville. Ghoston!"

"Ugh."

This is fun but could be better if you lightened the fucks

Best itt

I smiled. Keep writing. :)

>You're early

for you

What is this, some shitty high school English class?

Lol

Sorry reddit-chan, it's just that making fun of idiots like you is Veeky Forumss idea of a good time.

got so far
That was my first attempt at creative writing in awhile. Thank you.
Thanks

>EVERYTHING I DON'T LIKE IS REDDIT REEEEEEEEEE

People like you are extra strength retarded.

BUT IN THE END

does it matter?

one thing
i don't know why
it doesn't even matter how hard i try
keep that in mind
i designed this rhyme to remind myself how
I tried so hard
in spite of the way you were mocking me
acting like i was part of your propertyyy

"Not early enough," Veeky Forums said, "If this reddit-tier shit is all we have to look forward to."
"Agreed," chinese moot said, as he raised his scythe and deleted Veeky Forums. "Now to deal with those /g/ faggots who keep avoiding my targeted ads."

>reddit spacing
Figures.

Bump for more

and then Death finally came early.

Death raises his scythe; its time... To Reap.

Wren Nightshadow smiled as the corners of her blood red lips curled upward ever so slightly. "To be early, I'd have to care about when you asked me to meet you regardless," she added suddenly.

This is the best in the thread because of how accurate it is. You could make a living writing YA user

>regardless
Icing on the cake, well done

>irregardless
ftfy

"For this," the man in the cloak whispered, "I would have preferred fashionably late."

From under Death's cowl, a hint of a smile formed. "Be seated."

The cloaked man sat. Death leaned forward.

"I have found, in circumstances like these, that it would be best for the both of us to be honest with each other. You agree, yes?"

The man met his gaze. "If we're being honest, then don't pretend that I shouldn't be here yet."

Death was silent. The air seemed to still momentarily, as if the world held its breath.

The man continued, a gleam in his eyes. "Have I not sent you more than your fair share? I haven't stained my hands with this much blood only to die before my task is ended."

Death was unmoved. The man ranted on, his movements growing excited.

"I have crossed mountains, felled kings, slayed monsters! I have buried truths and innocent men! I have crossed uncrossable lines and opened doors which should have remained closed! And now..."

Death was unmoved. The man paused for a moment, and his anger flickered and failed.

"...and now, you would undo all that I've fought for. Are you so cruel?"

Death was unmoved, and fear bloomed where anger had once been.

"Please, I only need a few more days. What would it take for me to finish my quest?"

Death spoke, and it was a terrible sound.

"More than you can bear to pay."

The man smiled back triumphantly, and it was a terrible sight to behold.

"I'll pay it."


R8 pls, and apologies for Reddit spacing.

10/10 would read again user

What is it with kids peppering their texts with unnecessary question signs? I've noticed this lately. It seems to be a mark of non-committal, of blanketing their disagreement under some dainty assertiveness and ironic detachment.

or u can not police language???? like it isnt? even hURTing u????? honestly lmao

The gays

I designate you the true heir of GRRM. You must pick up his series after the rest of his flesh rots.

GRRM? George R.R. Martin? Damn user, I'm touched.

nonpareil Veeky Forums post

"You're early." Death finally says.
They exchanged a long glance, but it was one between equals.
"I wouldn't want to make you wait, like last time."
His eyes burning like incandescent coal, Charon stood there, holding the gaze of his life long master. Not that something that had been perduring for eternity could be defined life long.
Of course, there was the need adapt, over the course of the centuries. Ferrying souls was a practice sufficient for the Old Times, but as the number of people increased, and increased, a quicker method was needed.
Therefore, the ferryman of the dead started driving a bus.
Stopping in front of the place of death, he hauled the victim, and brought them to the afterlife every full load.
"Some school shooting, I got filled quickly this time around. The kids kept chanting for the duration of the trip, it felt like a real schoolbus. I got really fucking mad, I took apart a couple limb by limb, that calmed them a tone." Charon continued.
"Styx Avenue was also rather free of traffic this morning."
"Is the shooter on there?" Inquired Death, intrigued by the muffled chaos originating from the bus, parked some distance behind the two of them.
Death got a sense of excitement every time someone new came to him. Far from the bored indifference one would expect from millennia of welcoming the souls of those who passed, the grim reaper fed on each and every individual experience, on the shattered dreams, of the mother's death in childbirth, on the confusion of the 3 months old infant killed by otitis, on the deluded sense of hope of the teenager slain by a hit and run, on the quiet serenity of an old grandfather who lived his life fully.
And this looked like it'd make for an interesting one.
"Yes, the shooter is in the back, he really didn't expect me to show up. Kept rambling about the dark, painless void everybody seems to be obsessed with these days. He also has some kind of 'manifesto' you may be interested in hearing about." Charon knew about Death's fixation, and made sure to provide him with all the details.
"The highschoolers also gave him shit for the whole trip. That I didn't try to stop, it was rather amusing."
"Perhaps we can accomodate the same destination for the lot of them. I'll take them from here." Death concluded, levitating towards the schoolbus.

...

"The premise of these video games are retarded." said War.

The question mark in his post, used as it was, is a relatively new development and appears to be used to make a statement while indicating confusion at the same time. Sort of indicating an implicit question without actually stating it.

Death hadn't looked like what he expected. He continued smoking the cigarette still twitching in his lips. He couldn't remember how he died, but it wasn't the smoking. No, was it the smoking? Who's to say? But then why would he be early?

"Well?" Death spat out, the silence apparently hanging too long. "Say something already, you're dead and I told you you're early, most people are begging to be sent back by now."

"Why would I want that? There's an afterlife so it can't be all bad around this side." He grinded the cigarette. He was still wearing his beat up sneakers. Drops of fresh blood were evaporating. Hm, an accident?

"That's petty. Don't you want to see your friends and family?"

"I'll see them again won't I?" Still staring at his sneakers, the drops of blood looked like they were being sucked up by a microscopic vacuum.

"Whose to say? I'm simply your valet. Lets get on with this."

He walked forward, still staring at his sneakers.

>He waited till the man was out sight, said "Sucker," and finished his sandwich and coffee in perfect silence.

I dunno why but I really liked that. Made me chuckle.

I like your writing style, it's very "punchy"

No, I replied. You're late.

>it's. just. a little harmless fun?

Are you asking him or telling him?

bump

“You’re early” Death finally says.

“Ah sure you know yourself” says my Father in his meath Brogue. “I was after talking to my Daughter about the sweetest way to die”
Death stood there momentarily. He held his scythe in almost careless disregard, nearly leaning on it in the white nothingness of afterlife. Heaven. Here.

“Well, ehm… did you find it?” Death eventually stuttered out. My Father counted the digits on his left hand, calloused and white from plaster like during my childhood. Not the soft caricature they withered into being.


My father stopped on his ring finger. “Three” he replied, looking down to his hand and grinning, before finally starring death in his face. “Three” he repeated.


Death was my face. Death takes a pleasing form, it is believed in some cultures. “Three what?” Death questioned, stupefied.
“Three is a sacred number in many world religions” My dad grinned. “Three is the trinity. Three is the number of divine inspirations in my life. Icons and theophanies. My father, my son and my holy spirit”.


Death and my Dad stood there on the periphery for what seemed like an age. Death finally asked “Well what was the sweetness in that?”
My Dad laughed for what seemed like another age in the ever expanding time. “Before her”.

i dunno

"You're early," Death finally says. John stuttered out a "what?" in response, to which Death repeated his statement and they stood staring at each other for another 5 seconds. John started to ask "what" again, but Death cut him off with an "it doesn't matter" and beckoned him over. Frightened of what came next, it took a little for John to actually walk over to death, who, though he couldn't pinpoint any actual change in his expression or body language, seemed to be growing annoyed somehow. When he finally came over, he noticed the air chill in a gradient as he approached the near-motionless figure of death. Standing next to the entity was intimidating; it was tall, and completely covered in black except for its grey face, stern and male, whose eyes were unwaveringly locked onto his. He could have sworn he'd seen the face before, but couldn't place it.

After looking away and then back at Death four or five times, each time meeting the stare, John timidly asked "am...am I dead?". Death's stare intensified and after a moment it said "No, not yet." "Then wh-" John started, but was cut off "there is still time to save yourself." death said in a solemn tone. He continued "many mistakes are made here; my work is a messy business. You still have time, but you must do something." John's eyes lit up, "What do I need to do? I'll do anything!" he said, more frantically than he had meant to. In response, Death simply pointed to a spot about ten meters away to John's left. "You must go stand over there." Death said in a booming voice, whose tone sounded much more important than the words it was imparting. "W-what? Just over there?" John said in disbelief. "Go!", yelled Death. John cringed back and said "Okay, okay, I'm going. Uh, thanks." Death just continued to stare as he walked over. To John's increasing disbelief there was a little red "X" painted on the ground. He stood on it, and turned back to look at death. "Like thi-" and then he was falling.

"You're early," he finally said, but he said this to everyone. It didn't mean anything, but it always made things a bit more fun. Though he hadn't realized it when God had offered him the job, being Death was incredibly boring. God had offered it to him over drinks, and with a casual tone that implied that it was nothing serious, and he could back out anytime. He thought it'd be interesting for a while, and when he was spent he could just go back to endless parties and sex. Turns out once you sign on you have to serve at least a year, and each day seemed to be an eternity, to have to deal with every single being in the universe that dies. It was insane. "Bastard", he idly thought as the human stared at him. The only way he was able to get through each encounter was to mess with them a little. It seemed cruel at first, given the context, but after a while it was hard for him to think of anyone but himself as a victim.

"What?" Death wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn't. That wasn't how he was playing this one. After a little he was able to, without breaking his solemn act, get the human to come over. They were staring at each other again, though the human's eyes kept breaking off of his to look at other parts of his form. He had total control over his appearance, and though the human seemed to be recalling something, he could tell that it didn't get the reference. "They have no appreciation for art these days", he thought to himself bitterly. As he continued to stare he considered how much he preferred being Death for basically every form of life other than humans. His favorite was cats. He'd take the form of a raven, taunt and fly around them, leading them, sometime for hours, through a jungle that he'd use especially for the occasion. There was something kinetic to it, something that made him feel alive again. When he'd finally had enough, he'd fly in front of them with his back turned. They'd pounce and he'd vanish, leaving them to tumble into the afterlife. He had an idea.

Doing his best to keep a straight face and act convincing, he pointed at a random point to his right and told the human to go stand there. Though it took a little convincing, the human finally started walking over. He allowed himself a smile, while its back was turned, as he made the X appear at the spot. Finally arriving there, the human turned back it him and started to ask him a question, when the trap door fell out from under it and it fell screaming into the darkness. He giggled a little "sometimes this isn't so bad", he thought. He felt a sudden presence in his hand, as was typical at this point, and looked at the small scrap of paper that had just appeared. Reading it, his eyes lit up with glee. The tall, imposing figure turned into a raven and vanished.

this is shit

thanks

I LIEK CHOCOLATE MILK

...

"W-would you like to play a game for your life?" Death asked.

"Naw, I'm good." Replied the man removing and then replacing the baseball cap back on to his head.

"Are you sure? I-I have Monopoly."

"Naw man fuck that game. Shit is dumb."

Death looked surprised, and hurt, and mumbled something about how Monopoly is one of the best board games of all time and how it's a game well worth staking your mortal life on.

"Yeah yeah, so like you got anything to eat around here?"

Death spun around to face the man. A gleaming white grin showing beneath his cowl, from which his announcement came.

"Hungy Hungry Hippos it is then."

I thought I'd give them the benefit of the doubt but this is genuinely awful.
reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6eytds/wp_after_people_die_they_must_answer_a_riddle_and/

Jesus Christ.

"Hey man, you're early, I told you 5 o'clock on the fucking dot!" said Death.

'Woah, hey, calm yourself friend. 'A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to', heh, bit of the good ol' LOTR there for you. You into that sort of stuff?"

"No, not really."

"Oh, okay."