Dark Thoughts: The Legend of William Bludworth

(EDITOR’S NOTE: This is Bovie’s fan-fic backstory for Tony Todd’s character in the Final Destination franchise. Just thought you should know. – DeadMan)

“What a useless trade, of all the things to learn in my life why this?” William hoisted the heavy stretcher into the back of the van. “Why did I ever think it would be a good idea to become an undertaker?” He went around to the front of the van and got in the driver’s seat. “I thought I would be good at it because of my morbid fascination with death, but it’s messy. There’s the blood, shit, and urine at the scene, the embalming, none of it’s pretty. The worst part? It doesn’t even pay well.” He got out of the van and pulled out the stretcher. “At least this one was a short trip.” He made his way to the embalming room. He started the long task of preserving the body so that it would look pretty for the half hour that people actually saw it. “Private jobs are sparse, city ones are good, but you can only get them if you get there fast. I’m nowhere near the top of their list.” He paused for a moment. “If only there was a way of knowing, then I could at least make a living at this shitty job.”

“Perhaps I can help you with that.” William turned around to see a large shadowy figure behind him.

“How the fuck did you get in here? Help me with what? Who the fuck are you?”

“I am your co-worker. Although you may not know it, we work very closely together.” The figure shifted shape but never actually seemed to be solid. “Less like co-workers, more like we have a common theme to our work.”

“So, you are Death then? Fuck, I really need to switch jobs. Now I’m having fucked up dreams.”

“You’re not dreaming. I have an offer, an opportunity for both of us, I think you will find the arrangement quite to your liking.”

“What can you offer me?”

“Exactly what you asked for, you will know exactly when the deaths in the city will occur, at a price.”

“This is the part where you give a bad deal and I say no.”

“I’m really not asking much, just that you provide a small service on occasion.”

“What service would that be?”

“My job is boring. I’ve been doing it for thousands of years now and it is still boring. I have created a little pastime though. Every so often, when a disaster strikes, I give someone who is meant to die in it a vision. This vision saves them and others that are meant to die in that disaster. I then hunt them down in the order they would die in and kill them in ludicrous ways. The game, however, lacks challenge. They never see their death coming and simply shit themselves and face their doom. I want to have them know I am hunting them. Have them running and give them hope of survival. What I want to do is insert you into the equation to tell them the rules of the game. You will wait until I catch the first of them and then as you are cleaning their spattered mess off of the pavement tell their friends the rules. Feel free to throw in some fake ones, so long as they know that they will all die because they survived and have some hope of escaping.”

“So, all I have to do is talk to some people who you are going to kill?”

“Yes.”

“If I do that then I can be first on the scene for every death and get all of the city contracts?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no way this can be traced back to me?”

“It would take a genius madman to figure it out and no one would believe him anyways.”

“Alright, I’ll take your deal.”

“A girl will be falling out a window in about an hour. I think you’ll want to be there. There’s a group of people who need talking to.”