[ WP ] Tell me who the grim reaper used to be

`` Who are you?'' The woman said. I pushed open the door and strode into the room towards her. She stumbled back and asked again, `` who are you? What are you doing in my home?'' 
 
 She was old, and unable to fend me off any longer. She retreated down the hall, and I followed. She kept asking, `` who are you? Please, do n't hurt me.'' 
 She passed through a doorway, into what looked like a bedroom. She tried to close the door behind her, but I forced it open and she fell on her back. 
 She crawled away from me and said again `` who are you?'' 
 
 Finally, I answered, `` I am Death. I am the Reaper of Souls. I am Mot. I am Giltinė, Śmierć. I am King Yama. I am Azrail. I call on everyone, rich or poor, great and weak. And all will answer.'' 
 
 She looked at me, and we both paused, examining each other. `` Why are you here?'' She said. Again, I replied, `` your time here is over. You must come with me to the other side. `` Slowly, she nodded her head. `` Alright. Alright, I'll come. But you must tell me something first.'' 
 
 I was, well, intrigued to say the least. And a little taken aback. Most people when I appear go through the five stages of grief very very quickly. They deny that I'm real, they bargain with me, they threaten me, they cry, and finally they accept it. 
 Not this one though. No, she knows it's over. Whether it's a heart attack or a brain aneurysm, she knows she's dead already. Lying in the same bed she is next to in fact. In a few hours time her grandson will come by to paint with her, and will find her seemingly asleep. He wo n't want to wake her. 
 
 `` What would you like to know?'' I ask. I want to grant her request, if I can. If it's within my power I will. Out of respect if nothing else. It takes a certain sort of mettle to literally look death in the face with acceptance. 
 
 `` Who are you?'' She asks. `` I want your name, and your story if you have one. Were you human once? Like us? Like me? I - I just want to know. It would make this easier.'' 
 
 I pause again, and think for a while. Her, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall. Me, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. For a moment, I studied the room we were in. Decorated like any old woman's bedroom would be. Old musty drapes, and a lamp that looked like it was alive at some point. 
 Even she knew I did n't want to answer the question. `` Please. I know it must be hard for you, but please. I just want - no, I need to know. Who are you?'' 
 
 `` My name is Cain.'' 
 She looked at me with shock. `` Cain, like from the Bible?'' 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 She looked at the floor, away from me. 
 `` I murdered my brother in a field. He and I presented gifts to The Lord above, I presented produce that I grew from the land, and he presented part of his flock. The Lord preferred his offering above mine, for reasons I still do not understand. And so, in my anger and my fury I struck down my brother. 
 And so The Lord cursed me to strike down all others also. And bring their souls to him.'' 
 
 The old woman looked at me again, with pity in her eyes. `` I'm so sorry Cain. I thought you were a story. I thought all of it was a story.'' 
 
 `` It was not just what I did. The murder of Abel has haunted me so. And it continues to haunt me now. If I could take it back I would.'' 
 She stood up, for the first time since we started the conversation. `` Then why does God continue to punish you? If you have repented, surely he must forgive you? Is n't that what the Bible preaches?'' 
 
 `` Yes, it is. But that is not our God. He is not a merciful God. He is wrathful. And his Wrath has no limits. I am to spend eternity reaping the souls of those destined for death. Which, right now means you. I have told my story. And though it pains me, I must take you now.'' 
 
 She stepped forward towards me, and I extended a hand. `` Very well,'' she said. `` I hope you find peace in your task Cain. I hope you forgive yourself.'' 
 
 As I took her into my arms, I said `` So do I.''
