Death was facing a dilemma. There were too many people coming into the underworld. "Now what are the humans up to now ?", He said to himself. He liked talking to himself. He rarely interacted with someone worth talking to so he found that talking to himself broke up the monotony that was his work.

Death glided up to Earth and saw what was going on. "Looks like there's been a war. A nuclear one at that. no wonder so many people are dying. " He roamed around the sky, riding his black horse, noticing what was going on.

"Well this is not good. If the last person dies, I die as well. " He noticed that there seemed to be just a small number of people left living on an island out in the middle of nowhere ocean.

"Looks like the war hasn't touched this place yet. "

He descended down on the island. There was not much food on the island the people on the island were all were acting restless. Death decided that he needed to grow some food first.
He put his hand into his pocket and brought out seeds that he carefully planted into the ground. When they were grown, everyone was amazed by the sudden abundance of food that was prevalent that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

He saw to it that no bad weather ever came near the island. If a storm ever tried to come close to the island, he chased the storm away. He would make it so that there was enough rain but not too much so that the rivers would flood and destroy everything.'

The final thing that he did that he considered a bit risky was to prevent accidents from happening. As Death himself, he knew when an accident would cause a death from a mile away and so could easily prevent the accidents from happening in the first place. People that fell down cliffs somehow miraculously survived. People weren't affected by snake bites in the least and people ate fruits without fear of them being poisonous to them as well.

People started noticing this happening to them and so wisely decided that a God was responsible for it. Since the God helped people live, they decided that the God would be called Life - much to Death's chagrin.

"Just you wait" said Death. "You people become more populous again and we'll see if you'll call me life once more."

But that day never came. There was one thing that Death could not do - and that was give the people more babies. Generation after generation less babies seemed to be born. Nothing Death did seemed to be able to stop that.

He tried to stop the decline over a couple thousand years, but nothing he did seemed to work. Finally he was right back to a handful people.

"Oh well. " Death said. "I did whatever I could. In fact, I feel like protecting this island was more fulfilling to me than taking the souls to the underworld. I'll die knowing that I don't have regrets. "

And when the last human died, Death closed his eyes and was no more.