He did a doubletake. Can Death get whiplash? I wondered to myself. I smiled, noting that the silent hooded apparition appeared completely baffled before scanning along my lengthy, curly hair with his wide, empty eye sockets. He grabbed his skull in both bony hands and shook his head in quiet agony.
The prophet’s words had haunted me for as long as I could remember. Should you ever cut your hair, a terrible death will meet you there. It seemed Death had grown tired of waiting.
I stood poised to fight him off if necessary. All I had was a baseball bat, but he hadn’t brought his scythe, so I hoped it would be enough. He inserted his hands into a fold in his long, flowing cloak and pulled out a pair of scissors, looking at me expectantly, making little snipping motions with them.
I shook my head and swung hard at the scissors, knocking them out of his bony hand. His hollow eyes somehow looked shocked and dismayed. He buried his hand back in his robe and pulled out electric hair trimmers. Again, I swung before he had fully looked up at me and the plastic trimmers exploded into a thousand pieces.
Death hung his head low and drooped his shoulders in defeat. He reached back into his robe and pulled out a barber’s straight razor, shrugging. Once again I took a swing. He managed to move the razor out of the way but my bat connected with the bones of his forearm.
To my surprise the bat shattered, splinters flying everywhere. My eyes went wide and death grinned. I turned to run and he gave chase, slowly drifting after me menacingly as I tore through my house toward the back door. I made it outside and leapt over my fence into the neighbor’s yard.
I sprinted onto the street and ran like mad. I didn’t see him last time I looked over my shoulder, but that’s why I’m begging you to just hide me for a little while. Once death gives up I can go back and pack some bags and I’ll be out of town tomorrow, I promise.
Mermaid Pirate Dispatch 
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