"Its so very rare for someone from your mortal plane to best me."
I had won. I knew he would have to give me a chance to reclaim my life. I chose a game he couldn't possibly win, and although he was crafty, he was beatable.
Death was applauding my victory, and I had earned respite from his attempts to take my soul.
"Yes! Hell yes! I can't believe it worked!"
We stood in the aether, the boundary between our world and those not unlike our own. Glimpses of my home passed before my eyes, along with visions of worlds I couldn't even dream of.
"I beat you, fair and square. Now send me back, Reaper!"
Death paused, his cowled head lowered a bit, before he made a gentle movement to turn away from me.
"Now now, I never promised anything of the sort." He whispered, I choked.
"I said if you were to best me, I would not claim your soul. You won, and thus are free from my grasp. However, I made no declarations to return you to your realm."
As I replayed over and over the events in my mind, I realized he was right.
And as I tried to piece together a possible way to get back to the living world, Death extended one last parting warning
"Oh, and I wish you luck with the others who are interested in your soul. I doubt they'll be as sporting as I am."