Death

‘Sister, your final hour has come,’ said the monk, who entered without knocking, certain that this pious bride of God still had some valuables hidden away in her room. She may well have gone to confession twice a week and spent day and night in prayer, but he was certain she was not sincere or honest enough to share the fortune she had amassed with others. It was true that when she entered the convent she had voluntarily donated a vast fortune, more than anyone else, to the convent, but he knew how the rich always pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes and did nothing without having an ulterior motive. He had absolutely no trouble swindling both the rich, who lived in fear of the afterlife, and the poor, as well as his fellow sisters and brothers. He rubbed his hands together with satisfaction.
His docile henchmen began searching the room as he gave his instructions.

“Sister, the angel is already standing behind you; why do you hesitate to exchange the present for paradise? Do you not wish to save your soul and enter the gates of heaven with your head held high?” slurred the devious man who had given her a sip from the cup of absinthe, “it is not too late to ask for forgiveness.”

"I’ve found something," cried the rat, which had crawled under the chest of clothes at the foot of the bed where the monk was searching intently for the money pouch.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” asked the little ratlike Jack in the chest holding a large sack of golden coins. The monk held out his hand, his eyes glinting and his mind racing, with this he could buy all sorts of tasty treats: beer, sausage, roast suckling pig...

"What about this sealed letter", cried the first. "Guess what, your name is written on it."

The monk looked up in surprise. Could it really be true that the nun had named him as her heir? He had always treated her fairly, even though he did think she was a rather foolish woman. No one in their right mind would share a man with millions of other women and continue to pray fervently for a better life, love and peace on earth, as she always did.

And whilst the angel of visions continued to whisper empty words to the nun, the door slowly opened and a arrowhead appeared through the doorway, followed by the appearance of Death.

Death looked on in astonishment at the scene.
“What on earth is going on here, young lady?” he said to the nun, who was being stripped bare before his very eyes by the munk.

With wide eyes, she looked at him, shrugged her shoulders and muttered: “I’ve saved up hard for the crossing, Mr Death. I’ve literally saved the last morsel of bread from my mouth. If this carries on, you’ll have to come back another time, because this lot steal like ravens and the flapping at the back of my neck by the fake angel is driving me to my wits’ end.”

"Exactly," said Death, who didn’t like having his bread and butter taken away by a greedy monk and his creepy henchmen, "let’s see how we can sort this little mess out." In the blink of an eye, one of his henchmen appeared at the head of the bed and held the angel at gunpoint with a thin, razor-sharp arrow.
“Get lost, or your final hour has struck,” he shouted at the fake angel, who looked anything but loving and protective towards the nun. Just like Death and the nun, he couldn’t stand empty promises and underhand whispering.

"There’s another bag under the bed," said the other helper to Death.

"That’s mine," roared the monk, "keep your hands off it! I’m her heir." He waved the letter his rat had found.

Death didn’t bat an eyelid as he said: ‘Then that means I’m here for you, and not for her.’

‘Please don’t,’ said the nun, ‘life is already long and unbearable enough. I’d rather go to the realm of the dead than ever meet these people again in heaven. I’ve had enough of hell on this earth.’

With a soft thud, the monk and his rats fell to the ground.

“Pack up and get out of here,” said Death to the angel who was standing by, “this is your final warning. If I come across you again, the devil will come for you!”

“Do I have enough to pay the ferryman?”

Death nodded and said: ‘More than enough for this life, and for all your future lives you’ll be granted a free pass once more. I’m sorry that this life was such a heavy burden to bear.’

She smiled as he lifted her up. Her task, just like his, was complete.

_{18-7-2026
This photo was taken by me at the Jheronimus Bosch Art Center in 's Hertogenbosch.}