Death (3/365)

 The angel cocked his head. This man should have been dead already, but he was not mistaken with what he just seen. It was not uncommon to see a person refusing to accept death, but never in this mangled state. The human body was a fragile thing, a complex system that depended on a lot of things to work right to be able to sustain life. Human could survive without some organs or even fake replacement, but there were advances to ensure those shortcomings wouldn't hampered their mortality.

 The angel crouched to take a closer look. Dirt smeared across the young man, sticking into his wound wetted by blood. Who knew what sort of infections were festering inside his flesh. A piece of rusted metal was stuck through his abdomen, his right leg was crushed, so was his right arm. His jaw was dislocated and broken, and blood exited through the holes in his face.

 This human simply wasn't letting go of his spirit. He should've been joining the other three souls from long ago, souls of which were growing restless the longer they stayed near the area. The mother even after death could still hear his family grieving over her dead body. The angel didn't have time to wait for this man to die on his own.

 He took out the fourth card, and read the name out loud. "Aranda Santoso," his voice boomed like thunderclap, inaudible to mortals, but deafening only to those he addressed. "You are dead from an accident. You rode on the back of a truck bound to this path in this night, driven by two person overworked and tired, destined to run into a family in a car with broken and weak light. You died when the truck toppled over and threw you out of the back."

 The angel paused, and saw that Aranda Santoso opened his good eye and met his.

 "Do you accept your fate?" he continued, a cold gust of wind followed his words as they left his lips and travelled into the essence of the man's spirit.