He's coming for you. Death is meant to come on a chariot of broken dreams or in the dark trenches of a storm, not in love letters and gifts. He did not take my soul when I was meant to die. He did not want it all the other times that I've offered it to him on a silver platter. Yet, time and time again, he reminds me that I am his: His night monster, his dark love, his perfect other. Death was the...