You'll understand why storms are named after people.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

"Should I ask why you have a knife in your purse?" asks Sophie, pushing her abnormally large glasses higher up her perky nose.

"It's a dagger, actually, and no, you shouldn't." I do not want to get into the details with her on why I am currently armed to the teeth to go to the movies. I adjust my pants, pulling them higher up my waist because the weight of the seven guns that are tucked in different areas are weighing them down. As I do so, my belt gets caught in my bullet proof vest and I have to fiddle with it until it finally comes loose.

It is Tuesday and I still have not heard from Death. I have to be ready in case he decides to come and finish what he started.

Sophie sends me a sideways glance and I ignore it. We continue to make our way down the busy street. People are either going to restaurants for happy hour, going back home after a busy school day or doing their Christmas shopping. The sun is already starting to set and the lamp posts are slowly turning on one by one.

"So, how are your end of term exams coming along?" I ask. Sophie is a student at the University of Ottawa. I forget what it is she studies, something to do with Criminology.

"Oh, you know. They are going..."

She is a woman of many words.

"Come on Soph, you're the smartest person I know. I bet you'll ace them all." I re-adjust my scarf, hoping it will hide the black bruises all around my neck.

The corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly, but then she frowns. She pulls out her planner, a big old brown thing overflowing with random loose papers of all colors, and starts scribbling fiercely on one of the pages.

I grab it from her in one swift movement and hold it above my head. Thankfully, I am much taller than her.

"What is that for? Give it back!" she exclaims, blocking my path with her tiny body.

"We said no planning during our girl's night!" I hold it higher. Whenever Sophie starts writing in her planner, it's impossible to get her to stop.

"Fine! But give it back to me or-"she stops whatever she was about to say and I follow her gaze down to where it is currently fixed.

Oh shit.

"I can explain!" I start quickly and put my arms down to hide the amount of ammo and weapons I am carrying under my coat.

"And we said no work during our girl's night!" She grabs the agenda from my hand angrily and shoves it in her bag before staring daggers at me again.

"I swear I am not going to work! This is for something else." I do not want to stress her out with the details.

"What is for, then?" she pesters.

There is no use in trying to lie, she can always tell when I am bullshitting.

"I may be in trouble, okay? It's nothing you should be worried about, though."

"What kind of trouble..." she trails off and I can tell she is lost deep in thought, trying to figure it out.

"Just a little," I pause, trying to find the right word, "pickle."

"A pickle?! A PICKLE has you carrying your weight in bullets to the movies?" I must admit it does not sound convincing to my ears either.

"Look, if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. Can we please just go?"

"Not until you 'fess up." She crosses her arms and I look down at her resolved face, knowing there is no getting out of this.

"Fine, but you asked for it," I start, "Death stole Janice, then he threatened me and told me to give up my business." I take a breath and continue, "So, I decided to get back at him by blowing him up twice and shooting him a few times in the head and then leaving his body there for the police to find." I take another deep breath, "So, yesterday he showed up at my house, disguised as a pizza delivery guy and attempted to murder me by first strangling me, and then drowning me." I shiver at the memory, "I only got away by lighting his cloak on fire. The pickle, is that I'm pretty sure he's going to come back for me sooner or later, so I want to be prepared for when he does." There, I said it.

She stares at me with her mouth wide open.

"Death? You mean, Death as in the Grim Reaper?" I do not think her eyes could get any bigger without exploding.

"The very one. At least, I think so. He carries a scythe and walks around in a black cloak. Tall guy, shady as fuck, but kind of cute if you disregard the fact that he's a psychopathic maniac—"

"Oh. My. God. Death has actually asked you to give up assassinating people? And you said no, and now you're at war with a goddamn GOD?" Her frantic eyes and white as a ghost face make her look like she is about to hyperventilate.

"Well, when you say it like that you make it sound way worse." I reply, but still know she is right. This is pretty bad.

She pulls out a notebook and a pen and starts scribbling, again, "I need to write this down."

I look up at the sky and sigh loudly. Not this again. I grab both her shoulders.

"Can we please do this another time? We have an interview scheduled, like, the day after tomorrow!" Sophie loves to interview me, a real criminal, for school assignments. Of course, she never uses my name.

In fact, this is precisely how we met when I first moved to Ottawa two years prior. I had been here for about 3 months, when I fell into the comfortable habit of dumping bodies in the Ottawa River. Its size, location, strong current and number of secluded beaches made it the perfect dumping ground. One night, after a very busy evening, I found a sandwich and coffee on a rock at the exact spot where I came to drop off a body on Saturdays.

It soon became apparent that someone had been tracking me when, three days in a row I had found various snacks, drinks and even a scarf and hat on a particularly cold day. One evening, the chicken wrap and orange juice was accompanied by a note that read:

I'm not a threat.

Meet me at the St-Vincent Street Pub at 11:00 tomorrow night.

-A friend.

I had been instantly curious about the cryptic message, but whoever had written it knew too much.

I had showed up at the right place and right time, wanting to see who the mysterious individual was. I never killed outside of a contract, but there were other ways to take care of a problem.

That night, I had had the full intention of doing whatever was necessary to make sure this person would not talk. Well, everything except killing him or her. Turns out it had become the start of a great friendship.

***

The line up at the cinema is unimaginably long, the same way it is every Tuesday when tickets are half price. We planned on arriving an hour early, but our altercation on the way here made us a little late. I check my watch for the third time and start tapping my foot on the ground. Sophie's head is looking downward at the ground like she usually does. It took me a while to get used to how shy she is and after trying for months to get her to get out of her bubble, I had given up, accepting her just the way she is.

The guy in front us turns around to stare at me and then looks down at my tapping foot with a scowl.

"Do you think we'll make it on time?" asks Sophie, taking her eyes off the floor momentarily.

"Well, there are 3 people left in front of us and five minutes until the movie starts..." I trail off, narrowing my eyes at the guy manning the cash register. He looks oddly familiar, but I cannot think of where I have seen him before.

I stand on my tip toes to try and see better over the tall guy in front of us. I catch his eye for a second and then he looks back to the person currently paying.

"Have you ever seen that guy, the one at the cash?" I ask Sophie.

She looks at him briefly and then shakes her head. The guy looks back at me and I notice how incredibly black his eyes are.

"Hurry up! We're gonna miss the movie!" yells an old woman from the back of the line, interrupting my staring contest with the cash register guy.

When it is finally our turn to pay, we make our way to the counter and order our tickets. We both act normal and from up close, I am unable to figure out if I know him or not. I feel as though I have never seen his face, but the facial expressions are very familiar.

"There you go; two tickets for the Ninja Turtles." he smirks and I start feeling nauseous. I know this guy. I know those eyes. A shiver runs up my spine and for a moment, I freeze.

Sophie clears her throat and I grab the tickets quickly from his hand, pulling her away toward the theatre rooms.

"What was that all about?" she wonders, her arm still grasped firmly in my hand.

"That guy just gives me the creeps, come on," I lie.

We give our tickets to one of the cinema employees and she points us to the last room on the left.

I look behind us to make sure he is not following us and then we make our way to the already darkened room. We barely missed two minutes of the movie.

"I wanted popcorn," whispers Sophie, laying her coat neatly on her seat, "I'll be right back."

"Get me some too, and a coke, and some beef jerky," I hurry to ask, ''please."

She rolls her eyes and hurries to the pop-up snack stand. I watch her order and try to relax in my seat. Surely he will not attempt anything in public.

The movie is about halfway done and I am already out of popcorn. Only un-popped kernels remain in the bottom of the bag. I feel oddly warm, so I take a sip of my drink and notice there is no ice left. Unbelievable, even ice is being made cheaper these days.

I notice Sophie wipe sweat from her brow, and fan herself out with her shirt. I am not crazy. This place is actually getting hotter. People are even leaving the room because of the heat.

''This is ridiculous." I start, "Let's get out of here and grab something to eat. It's way too-'' I am interrupted by a kernel popping in my bag. I freeze, and frown looking down at it.

Pop. Pop.

What is happening here? I tell Sophie to get out. Fast. The seats in the front row begin to ignite.

Then I see it: it literally walks out of the screen. An abomination from god knows where, made of molten rock and flames. Its body looks like a mix between a taurus and a dog. But bigger. Much, much bigger. In fact, most of the movie screen is now a huge hole from where it just came out.

This is surely Death's doing. The coward sends a minion instead of coming at me himself.

It snarls and the sound reverberates around the room, causing everyone to start running out of the blazing room.

"What the actual fuck is this thing?" I yell, but Sophie is already halfway to the exit.

Its angry yellow eyes zero in on me and I stagger in my seat. I am paralyzed for a brief moment as I take in the carnage in front of me. Fire is coming out of its ears and nostrils and it looks mad.

I take a mental note to put another cap in this asshole's cloak the next time I cross his path, and eye the iceless drink in my cup. I grab it and launch the entire thing at the monstrosity in one swift motion.

Figured I needed to cool its temper.

The monster opens its mouth and an enormous ball of fire starts brewing at the back of its throat. I have just enough time to jump out of my chair and duck before the fireball hits me. The now blackened beef jerky falls on the floor next to me and crumbles into a mass of ashes.

Jesus.

I lift my head and notice that the thing has started moving towards to me. I try to think fast.

I grab one of my guns and shoot a few bullets at its face, but all it does is make it angrier. At least, if its louder roars are anything to go by.

I lay down on my belly and start crawling towards the exit at the back, hoping it will not see me. I slip, the sweat coming from my palms making my path slippery.

The taurus/dog/volcanic abomination starts ripping seats out of the ground, probably searching for me. I keep crawling, but faster.

Suddenly, the ground starts to shake from under me and I look up, coming face to face with eyes the size of basket balls. It grabs me and my body is sent flying across the room. I land roughly on my side and hear a loud snap, followed by shooting pain in my arm.

"Shit!" I exclaim, barely able to move my body back into a crawling position. I need to get out of here now.

The monster turns in my direction and lunges itself back at me, leaving behind him a trail of smoldering fire.

My eyes go wide and I brace myself for impact, knowing there is no way in hell that I am surviving this.

Before the monster can collide with my body, I feel a cold jet of stinky water hit my face and I look up to see the ceiling sprinklers shooting water all over the blazing room in an attempt to stop the fire from spreading.

"Em! Wake up!" I hear Sophie's hurried cries and my eyes shoot open, "We have to go!"

I look around me and the room, which I still expected would be on fire, is being inundated by the sprinklers. Sophie is holding me by both arms and shaking me as she is trying to wake me up. I wince. Hot pain shoots through my arm and from the feel of it, my shoulder is dislocated.

I sit up straighter, careful not to move my shoulder too much and look around us to see that everyone is scrambling to get out the theatre, using anything they can get their hands on as an umbrella, coats, purses, popcorn bags.

"What the hell..." I am positively confused now.

"The sprinklers just went off! Let's go!" she pulls me up from my seat and we start running towards the exit hand in hand.

Only when we are outside and out of the chaos am I able to gather my thoughts and piece together what had just happened.

Whatever happened in that room had been an illusion, but the shoulder injury is apparently very real.