Reaper

The boring ones.

Everyone brags about the famous ones. It's just part of the job: Game developers play games, writers read, reapers reminisce. It's not like there's much else we can do, other than socialize, and it's not like this job attracts well-adjusted folks. I mean, none of us technically signed up for this, but it's our choice to stay in the job or not, and the ones that do aren't exactly the most stable, on the whole.

When we have to get together, we all just talk about the one thing we have in common: our depressing-ass jobs. One of my friends got Kurt Cobain, although she still feels like shit about it, poor girl. Everyone says they got Elvis at some point, even the ones who were born long after 1977. It's kind of funny, actually. Hey, you get your jokes where you can.

The guy who got Hitler is still bragging about it, and while time seems to run pretty slowly in our little slice of heaven, it doesn't go that slowly. I guess part of my problem is that I haven't done anything anywhere near high profile; hell, my jobs are below low profile. I get the shit jobs, like kids and hospitals and the ones most of us call 'boring'. I don't know, I kind of like seeing people as people, looking happy and normal and... whatever the hell this is.

It looked like a fight from a distance, but they aren't actually fighting. One of the boys--of course it's teenage boys, of course--is between the two groups, but it looks like he'll be crushed if he keeps trying to stop this fight. Geez, dumbass, save your sanity and leave these idiots to their... idiocy. I'm not sure who's who, since I'm pretty sure no mother would name her kid what these kids are shouting at each other. I'll just have to guess, when the time comes. At least this little soap opera is pretty entertaining. I've got to admit, their insult game is on point.

"Guys, stop it! It doesn't matter whose foot was where, okay?"

It's not going to work, dude.

No response. It's not like they could hear me all that well, even if I wasn't in this tree... Not only am I mumbling into this fancy voice recorder, I'm also on a slightly different plane of existence. I don't technically need to sit in the tree, but it always pays to act as normal as possible for my 'clients'. At least, as normal as a girl can act when she's carrying a scythe and completely monochrome.

Ha, this kid in the middle is trying so hard... It's futile.

It looks like his brother's in one group. I think he got stepped on by someone? It's not like they need a reason to fight. They're teenage sacks of hormones and insecurity, and they decided they wanted to have a fight. If only that guy in the middle would realize that...

Oh shit.

Someone just pulled a knife. Then there were more, of course, because someone decided to give these idiot kids weapons.

Shit! Shit, man--Shit! He wasn't doing anything wrong! He wasn't on anyone's side, and he--They were fighting over absolutely nothing! And now I have to--

Damn, this job sucks.

At least they scattered, or I'd have trouble not scaring them. That's one of the few things I can do to living people. They might not be able to see or hear me, but they can sure as hell feel me.

"Maxie, Maxie, come on... Open your eyes! Shit--yeah, you better run! Dammit, Maxie, come on!"

"I'm looking right at you, Al!"

No. You're not.

"Wha--who are you?"

Please come with me.

"Where?"

Sorry, I guess I owe you an explanation... You're dead. I'm here to take you to what comes next.

"You're kidding me."

Nope.

"I'm... I'm dead?"

It was a lucky stab. Well, not so lucky for you, I guess... But yeah, you're dead. That's why he can't hear us talking.

"No..."

Sorry.

"Sorry? I'm dead and all you have to say is sorry?"

It's not my fault! Do I look like I stabbed you with a switchblade? I'm just here to help! You can come with me and walk under your own power, go in fully aware, or I can use this big, unwieldy scythe and take you. I can tell you, it's not fun.

"Where... where am I going?"

I don't know. Not like I'd tell you if I did. You go where you go; it's destiny or whatever. I've personally never gone through the door, but I can show you the way. And after that, it's up to you. I'm just here to make sure you don't get lost along the way. Or worse.

"Worse?"

You don't want to know. Trust me.

"Well, that's not ominous at all."

What did you expect? I have a fucking soul scythe! For souls! It doesn't cut anything else-- I tried once, I swear that grass laughed. I've seen so many people die, more than I even saw in my whole life before! I've met Him--you know, G-O-D--personally! My job is to take people to their eternal reward, or punishment, or apathy, or whatever and I don't know what it is! I know there's a heaven, I know there's a hell, but I don't know whether I'm sending these people to either one! I was an atheist before, but that got turned on its head when I met the literal devil! Oh, and did I mention that I'm a grim reaper? And you're dead. This conversation is basically the definition of ominous. Are you done asking questions now?

"I... I guess... Can I ever see him again?"

Yeah, just wait eighty years... Sorry. Look, all I can do is let you give him a message, but I'm not sure he'll get it. And it's kind of risky.

"How so?"

Let me put it this way: right now, you are basically pure soul. Think of that like... the best donut ever made. Got that?

"So I'm a soul donut?"

Yeah. And turns out, lots of things want to eat that soul donut. Or just have it, because collecting soul donuts is... Well, everyone needs a hobby. To send a message to your brother, I'll have to punch a hole through reality. We're kind of in limbo right now--although not quite, limbo is a weird place, but that's a long story--and I'll have to get us out of it for long enough to drop a message in his head. Doing that, and going directly into someone's mind, takes a lot of energy and is really noticeable.

"How is that related to a soul donut?"

Do you really want a flashing beacon right next to your soul, when so many people--well, for certain values of people--want it?

"Fair enough. But I still want to do it."

Okay. What do you want to say?

"... Sorry, Al. I love you."

... Wow.

"What?"

Don't be offended, I--never mind.

I'll give it to him.

"M-Maxie? Did you...?"

We need to go. I'm sorry, but we need to go right now.

"What the hell is--"

Grab my hand and don't let go. Do it!

Okay. We made it. It can't come this close.

"Is that...?"

Yup. Death's door. Go on ahead. I can't go through.

"Thanks... I guess. For your help."

Just doing my job.

"Your job sucks ass, lady."

Heh... Tell me something I don't know.