Stranded in Death

So that was what death felt like.
Tom's eyes flickered open. His mind seemed to fade out then become clearer as he awoke. It was like waking up after having fainted; disorientation, dizziness and slight nausea. The vision in his right eye seemed to be gone, but his left eye focused as the shadows began to ebb out to the corners of his sight.
“Thomas Gray,” A deep, thick voice floated over him. It didn't enter his ears, it went through and around his whole body.
“Yes...?” Tom croaked as he kneaded his right eye with his knuckles.
“Do you know what has happened?”
Tom looked around as he tried to see who to address. There was nothing around him except a faint grey mist and a dark shadow nearby. He decided to address the shadow.
“I died,” He muttered, “I don't really know how, but it felt weird and then I woke up here and I can't see out of-”
Tom was cut off mid-sentence as the other being spoke. “I see.”
“Well I don't. Who are you anyway?”
Silence. The shadow seemed to grow and its form began to take shape. It looked almost like the shadow of a man, but taller, slimmer and bent at a strange angle; it was as if it had suffered through the years and its body had begun to fail.
Tom made up his mind that he was definitely in the process of a conversation with the shadow. There was no one else around and it was the only feature that stood out in the mist. As he continued to knead his eye, Tom stood and made his way over to it.
“Who are you?” He repeated.
“I, boy, am a being you humans have named 'Death'.” The tone had become strange, almost amused.
“Then...where am I?” Tom asked, shivering as the figure seemed to exhale and a cool breeze flowed over his body.
“Far from your home, boy, far from anywhere you humans would know of.”
“That doesn't really answer my question, Death.”
Death shrugged. “I can only answer so much.”
“You mean you don't know? Even after being around for so long?” Tom smiled as he spoke.
“Do not mock me, human,” The voice boomed, “I am here only to do my duty and harvest your pathetic souls. They do not tell me anything I need not know of.”
“Why shouldn't you know where you are and where you go?” Tom persisted, as his curiosity almost overwhelmed him.
Death let out a sigh. It was the most depressing, and yet sinister sound Tom had ever heard. A darkness seemed to take hold of the mist and gave it a purple hue.
“Troublesome creatures,” It muttered as its form jostled about unhappily, “You humans always ask too many questions.”
Tom eyed Death and shrugged. “We like to understand things, such as who we're talking to and our location.”
“The last one,” Death rambled, and it seemed to have ignored Tom, “It kept asking me, 'Where am I?' and 'Where is my family?'.”
“Yes but-” Tom began, but he was interrupted once more.
“They always ask 'Does God exist?'. I do not understand why. Who should care if there is a god after they have died? They could not inform others of its existence or lack of existence. I can never answer such questions.”
Tom could see that the shape calling itself Death was worked up. It moved around more, its movements almost vicious as it spoke. Suddenly it paused and Tom felt it look at him.
“I will escort you, Thomas Gray,” Its voice had become deep again, “Follow me.”
Tom sighed and rubbed his eye. He was so far from home. He was so far from anywhere, stranded in an unknown location with Death itself.