Guards! Guards! (Discworld 8)

The words. Oh, yes...

He looked down, and spoke them aloud.

Nothing happened.

He blinked.

When he opened his eyes again he was in a dark alley, his stomach was full of fire, and he was very angry.

...

It was about to be the worst night of his life for Zebbo Mooty, Thief Third Class, and it wouldn't have made him any happier to know that it was also going to be the last one. The rain was keeping people indoors, and he was way behind on his quota. He was, therefore, a little less cautious than he might otherwise have been.

In the night time streets of Ankh-Morpork caution is an absolute. There is no such thing as moderately cautious. You are either very cautious, or you are dead. You might be walking around and breathing, but you're dead, just the same.

He heard the muffled sounds coming from the nearby alley, slid his leather-bound cosh from his sleeve, waited until the victim was almost turning the corner, sprang out, said “Oh, shi-” and died.

It was a most unusual death. No-one else had died like that for hundreds of years.

The stone wall behind him glowed cherry red with heat, which gradually faded into darkness.

He was the first to see the Ankh-Morpork dragon. He derived little comfort from knowing this, however, because he was dead.

“-t, ” he said, and his disembodied self looked down at the small heap of charcoal which, he knew with an unfamiliar sort of certainty, was what he had just been disembodied from. It was a strange sensation, seeing your own mortal remains. He didn't find it as horrifying as he would have imagined if you'd asked him, say, ten minutes ago. Finding that you are dead is mitigated by also finding that there really is a you who can find you dead.

The alley opposite was empty again.

“That was really strange, ” said Mooty.

extremely unusual, certainly.

“Did you see that? What was it?” Mooty looked up at the dark figure emerging from the shadows. “Who're you, anyway?” he added suspiciously.

guess, said the voice.

Mooty peered at the hooded figure.

“Cor!” he said. “I thought you dint turn up for the likes o'me. ”

I TURN UP FOR EVERYONE.

“I mean in... person, sort of thing. ”

sometimes. on special occasions.

“Yeah, well, ” said Mooty, “this is one of them, all right! I mean, it looked like a bloody dragon! What's a man to do? You don't expect to find a dragon around the corner!”

and now, if you would care to step this way ... said Death, laying a skeletal hand on Mooty's shoulder.

“Do you know, a fortune teller once told me I'd die in my bed, surrounded by grieving greatgrandchildren, ” said Mooty, following the stately figure. “What do you think of that, eh?”

I THINK SHE WAS WRONG.

“A bloody dragon, ” said Mooty. “Fire breathing, too. Did I suffer much?”

NO. IT WAS PRACTICALLY INSTANTANEOUS.

“That's good. I wouldn't like to think I'd suffered much. ” Mooty looked around him. “What happens now?” he said.