Dancing with Death

The last time I danced with death, I stepped on his toes 

Not many people can say that they’ve met death and lived to tell the tale, but I’ve done more than met him 

I’ve talked with him, walked with him, even waltzed with him 
You may think that death is more of a tango kind of guy, but trust me, he much prefers the waltz 

Or that’s what he told me, anyway 

Now that I think about it, maybe he was just saying that to get me to let my guard down 

My story should be a warning to all: when you’re in the same room as death, you should never turn your back on him 

No matter how charming he is, you must never let your guard down 

Because that is all just a guise to get what he really wants: your heart 

Not in a romantic sense, however it comes across, but in a literal sense 

In order to remain the same age physically, death must consume someone’s heart once every thousand years 

This can’t be just any random stranger’s heart, though, 
it must be given to him willingly 

Trusting death was the whole reason I got into this mess, and it’s fitting that the last thing I do on this earth, as I bleed out into the very paper I’m writing this message on, that I am trusting you, reader, to heed my warning and stay far, far away from death 

There is no sure way to spot him in a crowd, 
because he is always changing his appearance 

However, there is a way to defeat him once you are certain that it is really death you have come into contact with 

He has one weakness, one way to bring him crumbling down faster than a burning building

That weakness is—

--Audrey B., Adult