[ WP ] `` The fact that you 're here , talking to me about it , means it worked . ''

The two men stood in stark contrast to the nothingness around them, snow and tundra the only element of their environment. The younger of the two, wrapped in clothing and shivering, sat on the snow of the Siberian landscape -- the other man looked at him. `` It was only a legend.'' The younger man looked up at his elder, his eyes barely kept open with the fatigue and wear that coursed through his body. *I know it was a legend. * The older man sat down next to his friend. `` What exactly happened?'' 
 
 The younger of the two tried to stand up, but his legs gave out underneath him, causing him to fall face-first into the cold snow. He slowly stood himself up, his friend grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his sitting position. *The last thing I remember was being locked up in the prison cell. I tried going to sleep, and then this loud whooshing noise filled my ears: it reached a high crescendo, and then... black. I woke up here in the very next instance of consciousness I had. * 
 
 The older man looked intently into the younger's eyes, careful with the words he spoke. `` Are you telling me that...'' The younger man slowly rose, and shed his garments, revealing a ragged and torn undershirt and shredded pants. His body was perforated throughout, adorned with gashes and pure holes in various locations. His face had small dents, places where it appeared as if the skin had been ripped right off. His whole body was bloody as he shook from the cold. 
 
 *Yeah. Death brought me out here. * The younger man began to walk toward the sun, his steps uncoordinated and himself easily imbalanced. The older man grabbed him and forced the younger man's arm over his shoulder, and they walked together. `` So, it's possible then?'' *Yeah, it's possible. * `` And, you did it?'' The younger man stopped. 
 
 *Look. I do n't know exactly what the fuck it is that I even did. The legend said that if you were able to contest Death long enough, that it would let you live and skip you. I did NOT contest Death. * The older man distanced himself slightly from his contemporary. `` You did n't beat Death?'' The younger man's body slumped as he exhaled deeply. 
 
 *No. God, no. I was ill-prepared for that fight. I trained and trained for months straight, I physically peaked every single facet of performance I could imagine: stamina, strength, speed, reactivity. And, for the first week, I was doing pretty well. Death works you to the core, and it does so by taking on the form of whatever thing you loved most. Do you know what it feels like to have to fight the love of your life for days on end? Where the only break you get consists of sleeping the freezing cold for two hours? Where you're woken up, not by your own volition, but by a quiet whooshing noises that continuously builds volume until your eyes are ripped open? I fought her for A MONTH. A whole fucking month. * 
 
 The two men stood in the midst of that frozen field, the sun casting shadows behind and around them. *And, do you know what ended up happening by the end of that month? Death had me on my knees. I felt the freezing proximity of its scythe near my neck, and I closed my eyes as I waited for my life to end. * The older man's jaw hung slightly open. `` But, you're here...?'' The younger man pulled his friend forward and resumed their march toward the sun. *Yeah, I know. I opened my eyes and saw her face in front of me, smiling. She came close and whispered into my ear:'You've done well. I'll be back for you later.'*
