Existential Death Hole

Jeron screwed up his eyes, trying to comprehend his friend’s glee, “You’re kidding right?”

“I am…dead serious,” Kyle intoned dryly, before bursting into giggles cut short only by his voice cracking.

“Really? A pun? You want to disrupt the very nature of existence, and you start with a pun?”

“Stop quibbling over minutia. I can kill Death.” His eyes shone with megalomaniacal fervor.

“Death isn’t a person,” Jeron insisted.

“Not in the strict sense,” Kyle conceded, “but if you consider life as a planar field, and each life as a dimple in that field, there must needs be a focal point, a low point towards which life flows at the time of death to depart this mortal existence.”

“Death is an existential black hole?”

“More or less, but there is an epitome of death, see. Destroy the epitome, and life just swirls around in place, bound to return, having no place to which it can flow.”

“You been double-dipping your asthma meds again?”

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